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Copyright Š 2013 by Karthik Pasupathy Some rights reserved. The publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods. But credits should be given to the original author. Karthik Pasupathy Ambattur Chennai, INDIA 600053 www.karthikpasupathy.com Further Information: For suggestions and comments, contact the publisher at the address above. Readers who would like to give in their comments and suggestions can send an E-mail to the following Email address: kart168@gmail.com Written and typeset in INDIA


My Conversation with Mike cursor


My Conversation with Mike Cursor The worst thing that could happen to any modern writer is “the blinking cursor”. I have experienced it many times. It happens when you sit in front of the computer to write something. You are all set to start off your classic and suddenly everything in your mind gets clouded. Your fingers will be on the keyboard and you will not know what to write. You will see a blank page on the screen with a black cursor blinking in the corner of the page. At that moment, you will feel like the cursor is trying to talk to you. Trying to tell you that you are a schmuck and you are fit for nothing but to sit idle and die in a couple of decades. It will create the worst fear in you and make yourself doubt whether you’re even capable of becoming a writer. I have been put in that state a lot of times. Especially during late nights when I front of my laptop to pour out what’s in my mind. Usually I sit with a heavy heart and start thinking on which of the thousand problems I should write first. I decide on one fucking thing that was irritating me for a long time and when I am about to type, I will see the cursor blink. The cursor will ask me “Is it worth it?” Are you going to share this with the rest of the world and show them how pathetic you are?” Even though I hate the blinking cursor, it often puts me in a place where I can think in a correct way. It corrects me from writing bull shit. Even if I write some useless crap for ten or fifteen lines, it will blink at the end of those ten lines asking “Is that it asshole?” I will read what I wrote once again and delete everything and will again start over I don’t know how many of you face this problem or looked at the cursor in this perspective. But I see it as a reflection of my inner self. A tiny little line which corrects me, makes me think and teaches me to do things right. I remember that I spent hours of my late night hours looking at the black cursor. Sometimes the blinking cursor used to kindle old memories. It will make the heart so heavy, that I can feel tears brimming at the edge of my eyes ready to break open like a dam. Even now, I wrote two paragraphs to this page and my cursor told me to scrap it off. That is how it works. Deep inside I feel that I have a bonding with the tiny little bar. It had made me to scrap off a few lines sometimes a few pages. I always have a gut feeling that when the cursor says that it isn’t worth it, then it isn’t. I will immediately go ahead and delete the document. You may think I am stupid. But I am not. May a time, the gut feeling you get seeing things or objects are just the reflection of your inner self. You conscience won’t be standing on the table as Mr. Miniature and going to talk to you, like they show in the movies. This is not a movie. This is life and things are often indirect and you need to pay a little more attention to know what’s ahead. Even now, I haven’t thought of writing about the blinking cursor. I just felt bad after a bad incident and I want to write something to take off the heat. I sat in front of my laptop and opened a word document. The cursor was blinking there. We started talking in subsonic frequencies.


“Hey there!” said the cursor “Will you please stop blinking? This is not the right time” “If you are trying to be a writer, then every time should be a right time” “Bullshit!” “Yes, that’s what I am going to say when you finish writing what’s been bugging you” “You are a mean bastard!” “Cool down man. I know that you are planning to vent off about something that’s happened to you today. I know it’s bad. But is it worth writing? I mean everybody in this world that’s been bugging them. Every aspiring writer always doesn’t bitch about what’s happened to their life. That’s not what writing is all about. Writing is a gift and it is a timeless artifact that could inspire a person somewhere in the future. So when you are putting something on the paper you should do it with a conscience. You have the power and like they say with great power com…..” “…comes great responsibility…Yes. I saw Spiderman” “Yes and it isn’t just a comic man….It’s a great classic. The quote perfectly fits to any artist. Even writing is an art. So it fits you too. You have the potential to make an influence on the reader and that is why you should think many times before writing something” I took my eyes off the cursor for a while. I realized that I was thinking about writing, in a wrong way. It isn’t about whining how bad our life is. A word or sentence could spoil the entire book or could be a bad influence on people who are reading it. And I don’t want to commit that crime. I looked back at the cursor. It stood there waiting for me to talk. For a moment, I could feel the silence in me. The cursor stood in front of me like a sage who is trying to convey life’s philosophy with a brief silence. Again I started speaking to the cursor. “I just realized what I was about to do….Thank you so much for making me realize” “My pleasure. I’m going to be with you as long as you write. You can write in a different computer or different software. But I am the one who’s going to punch in the letters on your screen….we are a team Karthik and we should be in sync with each other to keep this going” “Yes. We’re a team and we will be a strong one” “Awesome!”


“Since you’re going to be my best buddy from now on, I am going to give a name for you” “I already have a name man.Cursor” “I feel odd when I call you that. But I don’t want to hurt your feelings. Let cursor be your last name. Let me think of a good first name for you” “Hmmm. All right” I was thinking in silence for a long time and the cursor was getting furious. “Get a name soon man! The silence is killing me” “This is how I feel when you stand there and blink at me. I am giving the taste of your own medicine” “Oh crap!” “Common man! Let me get a good name for you” “Ok let me help you in finding a first name for me. Name me after your favorite author” “My favorite author is Michael Crichton. His novels inspired me to become a writer. I didn’t study Shakespeare or Charles dickens when I was young. What I read was thrillers and Sci-fi novels and he’s the best in these genres. I love his works!” “Fantastic” “Michael will be your first name. You will be called as Michael cursor” “Nice. But I would like to propose a small change here” “Sure go ahead” “Michael cursor is quite long and old fashioned. How about Mike cursor?” “Your name, your choice Mike. Mike cursor it is”. Mike was happy with his new name. And I felt better when I called him Mike. After naming him I got an idea to write about. It brought a broad smile in my face. “What’s the reason for that broad smile on your face?” “Since you enlightened me on what I should do, I decided I should start writing about you” “Oh! You don’t have to Karthik”


“I think I should. It is the right thing to do. The cursor is a companion to any writer who uses a computer. You guys are great” “Yes. But we are often unnoticed” “Yes and I am going to change that. Every writer should know about you guys until the end of the computer era. This is just a start” “Wow! I feel great Karthik. Finally we got someone to write about us” “My pleasure, Mike. But I still wonder how you tricked me into writing about you” I said with a chuckle. Now the cursor was furiously blinking at me. “Common man! I am just kidding” “All right. All right. You’re known for cracking jokes at wrong times” “How do you know?” “My informants are everywhere man! Facebook chat, gtalk, etc. Where ever you type, you ought to use one of us. So we know all about you. I even know your net banking password” “Ok! Let’s stop it right there. It was a joke” “Ha! Ha! I am kidding too…ok let’s get to work” said the cursor. I typed all this and finally came to a halt. I read what I wrote from the first line and I felt satisfied. I gave a period at the end of the last line and I saw Mike standing next to it. I looked at him for an opinion and he blinked happily.


My conversation with mike cursor