Ever since I came back from the curse of the Writers Block (I’d prefer saying, after being ejected from the damned clutches of unproductivity) earlier this year, which was sort of a paradox, I had written 13 articles on a trot.

Im not superstitious, but, the infamous number 13 had halted my progress. Maybe for more than a month. But, in a Writers world, a few days of silence is not sanity.

Partly, I was in India, and traveling for the best part. But traveling brings experience. There are many tales to tell, for example, a bus ride in Mangalore (known for its super fast competing private busses), which I boarded after 22 years (in Mangalore).

The experience was that the busses had slowed down it’s pace, which was not that I was expecting. I was appalled. I had told my wife how the drivers’ swore and competed against one another, driving at supersonic speeds to forage passengers. But that seemed to be a thing of the past. The busses seemed civilized now.

Most of the time I watched TV and went to book stores buying books ( I bought 5 books). Reading them was a pleasure and when there was an urge to write, I look at the blank screen of my Mobile phones scribbling pad. That would disappoint me. No story seemed to stray by my mind.

One fine day, as I was seated in the office room of my Kannur home, I notice a honey bee stuck in a cobweb, wriggling and trying to survive. I was in two minds – leave it and let the nature take its path, or, save it.

I had just completed reading a short story called “Two Talented Bastids” , of Stephen King’s latest novel (Novel Title : You like it Darker).
The story is about two regulars finding their mojo and becoming superstars in their talents after saving an alien (The Alien gifts them the talent by saying “Nothing can give you what isn’t already there”) .

A fancy strayed my mind. Maybe the bee was God sent. I took a pen and gently removed the cobwebs stuck on its body. As it grabbed the pen, I pulled it, thereby, releasing it from the deathly hold.

The thing, perhaps having an inflated ego, and probably thinking I was the spider (I was wearing cargo pants at that time with the laces hanging from each of the six pockets that prompted it to think that I was a spider), made a dash at me. Twice it circled over my head, perhaps, ready to sting. I had the time to open the windows. I didn’t see it go out, but, it just vanished. In thin air to freedom.

Perhaps, it was an alien after all, and I just saved it’s life, because, as you may see, it saved me in return from the Writers Block and I just wrote this.

My wife jests that I need a bee sting to be awake and in consciousness.

What do you guys think?

Cheers!