16Dec 8, 2023
East Holpura Prison
Sanath sat cross-legged for hours together in his barrack, hoping that his mental discomfort would pale in comparison to his physical discomfort. That didn’t work, but he nevertheless used all his energy in focusing on the development of his first draft. He did not know how many drafts he would have to go through over the next few weeks, so that he could come up with a good enough book to save his life. He no longer felt a passion as he wrote. On the contrary, he resonated with Hemingway’s famous quip - “There is nothing to writing. All you have to do is sit at a typewriter and bleed”. And bleed he did, as he tried to put together the few plot arcs he had conceived of, months ago.
At the same time, he still had to attend to the frustrations of prison li
