It is difficult to define what creativity means today, because there is so much of it exploding and overflowing all around us that we are left breathless. A simple visit to the bookstore leaves me feeling overwhelmed, afraid that one lifetime is not enough to finish even the best of the books. Reading the newspapers, just only the local ones without surfing the net, there are ten new ideas jumbled up in a page, wonderful expressions, enviable phrases. A simple book review has so many wise references, a movie critic uses so many sly puns, a poem thinks of images you did not even imagine could be brought to paper. All of this is very, very interesting, and often makes me wonder where all of this creativity is stored in a person. I read carefully when interviewers ask writers about their source of creativity. The writers hem and haw and mostly give vague answers, like how they do not know, or that ideas just come to them, or that once they begin writing it is almost automatic. Then there are some writers who must sit down in a pretty garden before ideas come streaming in, and some are like our Mahakavi, who must smoke a puff or two or down a few glasses. I agree with all the techniques that work for people, but I also believe that creation is often nothing more than working till everything in your brains and body is begging you to stop. There is an often imagined, and more often believed, concept that creativity equals genius, and is only gifted to some people. This I do agree with, but I also think that more than genius, what is essential for creativity is hard work. The actual number of brilliant people is very, very little, and most times I find them too lazy to use their gifts. I remember Samrat Upadhyay’s interview I once read, where he has said that the picture of a writer as a lonely and eccentric figure pouring himself out in a rush does not apply any more. Creativity now needs a lot of work and polish and toil. So basically my idea is that creativity, especially as it stands today, is inculcated as much as it is inborn. I assert this so strongly because I am one of those people who has been taught how to be creative. Once I turned eleven, my father gave me a diary where I was supposed to record my thoughts, my response to books, my dreams. It seemed to be a dreadful task, and I tried to shirk it when I could, even hating to read a book because I would have to write about it afterwards. But then it became a habit, and I began to do it for myself. Because I would be reading things and that would give me ideas, and I would jot them down, and then write something longer. It became a fun thing to do. That is how I plodded on, and that is the way I do things to this day. If I were asked to speak spontaneously right now I couldn’t, I would keep on repeating the same things and stare haplessly at people spouting ten thoughts a minute. But then once I reflect on a topic, and gather all my ideas, the task does not seem so much daunting. Perseverance and determination win the day for me any time. And as for being creative when we are young, well, there is nothing like it. I just finished Ira Trivedi’s novel ‘What Would You Do to Save the World?’, which is a sort of fictionalized account about her experience in the Miss India competition. It is not highly engrossing, but it is a creative attempt by a young person, and stands out for the effort alone. That’s the best part about being young — you are allowed to make mistakes, you have a chance to correct them, to grow. If Trivedi had been older and more experienced, then the comments would have been quite harsh, and a lot more sarcastic. But the prevalent attitude these days is, they are kids, they need to learn and grow up, let them do it well. And I am glad of the fact that I am living in this era, this age of ‘communication and technology’ as we call it. It seems like we have come out of the closeted, tiny world that existed on one newspaper, one magazine, one radio. Now everywhere we look there are avenues to express ourselves, people who listen to us, give feedback, are positive and encouraging. It makes a huge difference, it makes you want to get out and really do things, it makes you reach out to as many people as you can, because you have the power to do it. And the first thing we think of, when we think of connectivity and reaching out today, is usually the internet. And as with all things wonderful, all things man-made, it is a double-edged sword, and a very sharp one at that. It keeps us sane, but it makes us mad, and I am sure almost everyone here has experienced its treacherous nature. It is liberating because it lets us go wild, there is no parent watching your move, no teacher pointing out your mistakes, no bully to laugh at you, at least not to your face. But then it is also like the Satan that tempts us to copy off someone’s ideas as it is so easy, or be lazy and stop any research on your own. It kills our inquisitiveness many times. And most importantly, there is always a sense of belatedness, as Harold Bloom famously says. Everyday we are inundated by so much of creativity, it seems as if everything we have thought of has already been done by someone else. Sometimes I even see things I am thinking at the moment under some other person’s name, it’s like magic. Nothing is new any more, nothing is absolutely creative. We could be hugely depressed by this, or we could take it to mean that we should strive harder, and make our boundaries wider, to encompass everything we can. We can experiment and make mistakes and fall hard, but we can also pick ourselves up the next moment. As someone said, we can never expect to be old and wise if we aren’t young and crazy. ( About the Author: Richa Bhattarai is the Communications Officer at WWF Nepal, Hariyo Ban Program. Her collection of short stories “Fifteen and Thr3e Quarters" was published in 2011. She also writes op-eds and features for national dailies. )