The mornings in Rome are just divine. It is said that Rome is the eternal city, and a sunny morning like that is just another evidence. It has withstood over 2700 years and like an old, wise grandparent. Despite of its wrinkly frontispiece, Rome still blooms with pride. But with every passing day, new buildings and skyscrapers that withheld themselves, maybe out of intimidation of the history and culture of Rome, is making their way through. Like sun-rays creep through holes on the wooden wall and brightens any dark room, these multiplexes lift the heritage of Rome and with care and love, sand was slowly incorporating modernity.
Shivani was elated when she got to know that she had to shift to Rome for her new job in fashion designing. Though she had never been away from her parents, but this was an offer that she just could not turn down. She admired everything about Italy, and more precisely, Rome. Renaissance, Michelangelo and Italian cuisine. What’s there to not love? And being an author of three romantic novels, Rome was highlighted on her wish-list.
But things look prettier in the head, than they are in reality. A vacation in Rome was she always dreamt of. But to work, to dwell in the daily life of a foreign country that is thousands of miles away from her home, was not as serene as she thought it would be. And to add to her misery, her publisher was pushing her constantly to write another chick-lit, for her fan-base was dying to read from her again. It has been two years since she had penned down a book. And if she doesn’t write now, she may lose her fan following. She’ll be just another author who was lost in the crowd. But her dreams were to stand aside from the crowd. Not just aside, but above. She wants to touch the sky. Feel the furious breeze and to see water droplets evaporating and then making love on the cloud. She wanted to see the whole world drenching in rain from up above her cloud. And she was succeeding. She had already written a trilogy before finishing graduate school, and was nominated for various awards. She loved writing so much that writing loved her back.
Everything was going as planned, until she moved to Rome. Now she was regretting her decision to some extent. Her routine was exploited during the process, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t take out time to write. Stories were crawling inside her mind like worms, but she couldn’t get them out on a piece of paper. Not because she lacked the expertise, but because time was becoming her worst enemy.
To be continued...
Shivani was elated when she got to know that she had to shift to Rome for her new job in fashion designing. Though she had never been away from her parents, but this was an offer that she just could not turn down. She admired everything about Italy, and more precisely, Rome. Renaissance, Michelangelo and Italian cuisine. What’s there to not love? And being an author of three romantic novels, Rome was highlighted on her wish-list.
But things look prettier in the head, than they are in reality. A vacation in Rome was she always dreamt of. But to work, to dwell in the daily life of a foreign country that is thousands of miles away from her home, was not as serene as she thought it would be. And to add to her misery, her publisher was pushing her constantly to write another chick-lit, for her fan-base was dying to read from her again. It has been two years since she had penned down a book. And if she doesn’t write now, she may lose her fan following. She’ll be just another author who was lost in the crowd. But her dreams were to stand aside from the crowd. Not just aside, but above. She wants to touch the sky. Feel the furious breeze and to see water droplets evaporating and then making love on the cloud. She wanted to see the whole world drenching in rain from up above her cloud. And she was succeeding. She had already written a trilogy before finishing graduate school, and was nominated for various awards. She loved writing so much that writing loved her back.
Everything was going as planned, until she moved to Rome. Now she was regretting her decision to some extent. Her routine was exploited during the process, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t take out time to write. Stories were crawling inside her mind like worms, but she couldn’t get them out on a piece of paper. Not because she lacked the expertise, but because time was becoming her worst enemy.
To be continued...
Source: here.
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