Why do we write? : Becoming Empty is the end of Creation : Dr. Ravindra Shobhane

For the last forty to forty-five years, I've been writing. This writing has been continuous. It's never happened to me that I've stopped because I couldn't think of anything to write. Something is always on my mind, and I choose the right structure for it. One reason for this might be that I don't rely on autobiographical material. Also, I'm not an author who writes just for the sake of writing, simply going through the motions. I'm an author who prepares for years, studying a topic sufficiently before I write. Throughout this entire writing process, I've never asked myself, "Why do I write?" or "What are the sources of my writing?" This is because when the inner flow of conscious and subconscious thoughts naturally connects with external experiences, these questions rarely arise. But when they do, a creative artist must explore them. This exploration leads to a deeper dive. You start asking questions about the very bottom of this creative process—how it appears, and how you find it. You have to take a deep plunge to get a sense of it. On this occasion, I am also faced with this question: "Why do I do this?" And what would happen if I didn't? The simple answer is that if I didn't do it, nothing would be amiss. No one would be harmed. The world certainly wouldn't be. But the inspiration and the inner urge to do these things are so potent and irresistible that I cannot stay calm without doing them. In short, if I don't write, the restlessness inside shakes me to my core. It shakes me so much that I'm automatically drawn back to it, even with many difficulties. This is not just my experience; it seems to be the experience of all creative writers. That’s because creative writing isn't something you can force. Once you’ve structured an experience and created a first draft, that’s when the hard work begins. You have to consciously and painstakingly bring all the elements to life. The invisible threads must be made visible. This requires a lot of effort. This is what we can call refinement or editing. Where does a creative artist get their inspiration, and how does it all come to them? When people praise a writer's work, they sometimes ask, "How do you think of this? We can't think of anything." That's because they can't think of things in that way. I recall reading an article by Vijay Tendulkar titled "Where Does All This Come From?" and in the book 'Khadak ani Pani', in the essay "Harnecha Deepstambh" on S. N. Pendse's novels, Gangadhar Gadgil uses the term "the writer's paradise" to describe the source of this inspiration. He says that the writer finds this paradise at a specific stage of life. There is no telling when they will find it, but once they do, that experience shapes the writer or artist. Their creations flourish. For most, this paradise is found at a certain stage of childhood. When I think about my own paradise, it wouldn't be wrong to say I found it around the age of ten or twelve. However, finding this paradise doesn't mean it immediately takes shape. Often, we aren't even aware that we have found our paradise. Only when we venture into the realm of creation for some reason do we realize that all the elements we are using are coming from that very place of experience. Even if our bodies have moved far away from that place, it remains fresh in a corner of our minds, just waiting to come out. N. S. Phadke simply calls this the "manifest mind and the unmanifest mind." Most creative writers seem to start with poetry. Often, they even publish a collection of poems first before moving on to other literary forms. Some who don't succeed in the field of creative writing later become discerning critics. I, however, moved directly to prose from the start. I wrote a few poems now and then, but my heart wasn't in it. My poetic journey didn't go beyond eight or ten poems. My journey was with plays, short stories, and novels. Of course, all of it was raw at first, but I started to dare to structure my surroundings from my very first work, 'Pravaha', and in my next novel, 'Raktadhruv', I consciously began to turn to these sources. I started to see them and express them. But merely presenting these sources doesn't complete the work. It is essential to develop a distinct identity from them, and this is what gives rise to the author's outlook on life and the unique characters they create. It becomes necessary to be able to say, "My people are mine, my region is mine, and my thoughts and expressions are mine." When I assert that 'Kondi' is mine, 'Raktadhruv' is mine, and 'Pandhar' is mine, this assertion is backed by my realm of experience. The characters I created, their actions and perversions, the mountains of sorrow in their lives, and beyond that, the good and bad arcs of life that have emerged are only mine. The immaturity of my early writing gradually faded and maturity came through reading. Reading major Marathi authors, as well as Hindi, English, and other Indian literature, expanded the horizons of my consciousness. The same happened to me. When I read Rajinder Singh Bedi's 'Ek Chadar Maili Si', I was literally stunned. I was able to visualize the Muslim families who lived in villages, living a hand-to-mouth existence. Bedi's novel instantly gave me a complete picture of my inner world. The atmosphere was different, the people were different, the region was different, the experience was different, and the content was completely different! Yet, a piece of art can make you look inward and create a completely different world of experience that has no apparent connection. This isn't imitation or influence. Rather, a piece of art, an event, or a person pushes you inward, and you bring out something, small or large, after taking a deep plunge. In short, someone standing on the bank of the water is intentionally pushed in by another. The one who has fallen in sees the bottom, experiences it for a moment, and comes back up. They might be breathless for a while, but that very state of breathlessness can be called the moment of creation. This has happened to me many times. I can say something similar, but a little different, about my work 'Uttarayana'. Some scholars who consider such writing "clerical creation" should look at this kind of writing that attempts to explore new paths. That would help them see beyond their current perspective. I, too, am opposed to using ancient epic poetry merely for amusement or entertainment. Looking at the high regard this kind of writing has in other Indian languages, and seeing authors like Girish Karnad and Dr. S. L. Bhairappa, Marathi writing of this kind seems quite childish. I constantly felt this childishness while watching the 'Mahabharata' series on television. This turned my mind toward my own childhood, the recitations of sacred texts in the village temple, the sermons, Kirtans, the Ramleela I saw, and the volumes of Mahabharata I read at a very young age. I realized what an epic can be and what happens to it over time, and 'Uttarayana' began to take shape in my mind. The epic-like story, modern themes, the psychological re-framing of people and events, and contemporary political contexts all came into it naturally. Even today, entertainment-based novels on the Mahabharata are written, read, and break sales records, but I was never tempted by that. This is because of the influence of my reading and the literary purpose instilled in me. Just as a writer is shaped by their experiences, they are also shaped by what they read. I experienced this while writing 'Uttarayana'. A good piece of art that stirs your inner depth (in the context of the emotional world of its characters), which temporarily leans on ancient poetry, always overcomes the obstacles of time and dissolves into the contemporary. It becomes contemporary. I won't say much about short stories here because the scope of experience is different for both, and since I find the novel to be more challenging, I'm trying to explore my sources here. However, if I get a chance to discuss some stories, I will. I'm inclined towards a long, detailed view of life. Such a detailed view allows me to examine the creativity within me, and my identity in the literary world is that of a "novelist." This is probably why we look at the fields we are familiar with in our everyday lives, and their ups and downs, with a sense of detachment. Here, I find Gadgil's concept of paradise somewhat incomplete. A writer of a certain kind of work depends on their past. For example, Nemade was unable to connect with the present in 'Hindu...', and keeps returning to the past. But a writer who is in tune with the present repeatedly looks at the reality around them. They examine the layers of that reality and think about where they can connect their roots to it. Many such examples can be given from Marathi literature itself. I am constantly aware that this is exactly what is happening to me. In 'Pandhar', I see the drought of 1972-73. I have seen people wandering for water. They cross the boundaries of time and come here. This is where the concept of paradise can be applied. The tragedy of villages due to modern farming, the current political reality that captivates the village, the issues of farmer suicides, and the reality of villages that are abandoned and deserted because of modern reforms are all part of my surroundings. I re-examine these surroundings in a new way again and again, and when I consciously examine and understand my surroundings in this manner, the variety of subjects is not limited. I wrote a trilogy of political and social novels ('Padgham', 'Ashwamedh', and 'Holi'). I feel it's important to talk about them. In them, I have depicted the period from 1975 to 2000. I had consciously thought about choosing this period. For one, I had consciously seen and experienced this period. At that time, the scope of my consciousness may not have been broad, and I may not have had a sufficient understanding of how to interpret the events of the external world, but some of these things had begun to take root in my mind. I had started to think that by looking at what was happening around me, I could gather some creative experiences and embed some elements in my mind forever, because even then, I had a faint idea of the creativity within me. These events were happening. Later, I created characters behind these events. I was able to connect those events to their private lives. A new shape emerged from this blend of fictional people and real events. Depicting such a long period required a certain level of awareness. I couldn't misrepresent reality, but I created fictional characters by holding onto the hand of real events from the past. The writing of 'Padgham' was a bit hesitant. In 'Ashwamedh', I became more free, and in 'Holi', I stood with confidence. As a writer, I was fully aware of the challenges of choosing such a large canvas. Of course, I had already experienced this with 'Uttarayana'. The canvas of 'Uttarayana' was even broader than this trilogy. Here, I only had to cover a period of twenty-five years. In 'Uttarayana', I had to depict five generations. I only had the framework of the Mahabharata. When I thought about the vastness of human nature, all of it came from within me. In this kind of writing, people around me also subtly hint at things. In the trilogy, the period I wrote about was seen by most people of my generation, and I did not want my writing to be historical or chronicle-like. In such a situation, the artist within me, a detached observer, becomes active. They are constantly active in the process of writing. My primary focus is to avoid repetition of characters. I have often seen such repetition in the writing of some authors. At such times, what the authors wanted to say from within is over. They then only create clutter or start writing things in a historical or biographical manner. This has happened to many great authors. To easily give names, I can mention the respectable names of Gangadhar Gadgil and S. N. Pendse. Gadgil eventually turned to writing biographical novels, and Pendse began to repeat all his novels in 'Tumbadche Khot', from 'Elgar' to 'Kalandar' and 'Rathchakra'. This is a defeat for the creative artist. It is immediately noticed by readers, more so than by the authors. I am always assessing whether my sources of creativity are fresh so that these things do not happen in my writing. Some things and realms of consciousness change with each generation. For example, there is a certain difference between the experiences and social environment when we started writing and the experiences and environment that modern authors have. Some social, religious, and cultural assumptions change. This is limited to the external environment of the artwork, but ultimately, the components and the key to its success as a work of art remain the same. Finally, the question remains: "What are my inspirations in this writing journey?" "Why do I write?" One important reason is that I am constantly restless. Of course, this restlessness is internal. As an artist, I am always restless due to some event, experience, or social impact. Then, it becomes essential to transform this restlessness, this contained storm, into a work of art through words and creation. When this happens, as a writer and an artist, I feel a certain emptiness. We experience a kind of freedom. That's when we feel a sense of lightness. This post-writing state is very different. After writing 'Gotavala', when Madhav Achwal asked Anand Yadav in a similar state, "How do you feel after this writing?", Yadav replied, "I feel like dying." With slight differences, this experience will resonate with the inspiration of all creative artists. This feeling of being empty, of being free, is the ultimate meaning of the creative process, and understanding this meaning is a sign of a creative writer. Dr. Ravindra Shobhane Mobile: 9822230743 This article is the translated version of the original article आम्ही का लिहितो? : रिक्त होणे हाच निर्मितीचा शेवट written by Dr. Ravindra Shobhane published in the Sahitya Chaprak Diwali Ank 2025