Maybe I can start writing again if I get a Mac.
Maybe I can start writing again if I get to Bangalore.
Maybe I can start writing again if I visit Ladakh again.
The spark to ignite my creativity glows too feebly still for me to craft anything of substance.
I used to enjoy writing. Enjoy playing with words in my head before they shot out of my fingers to form on the screen. Words streamed out and poured themselves onto mails, letters and blogs. Now they lie ignored on god-knows-what servers, unread and unheeded but in my memories.
Will this attempt to reclaim what was once mine be successful?