Pocket Drafts

When I was a teenager back then, this pondered my mind. Now, it has become one of the principles that I’ve adopted and been following in my life. Not too much philosophy, chill!

Dating back to 2014—this is a story of teenage Namrata who wears a white blouse and a sky-blue frock uniform, has two tiny, short braids tied with white ribbons, carries a 22-kilo (or probably heavier) school bag, and is a student in 8th grade. You ask which school? You’ll know during the course of the story, but at the moment she says she studies in a school under Kanara Welfare Trust (KWT). Because she loves KWT and has a huge respect towards this education trust. So, given a chance, she never misses saying she’s a baby, kid, a teenager being shaped by KWT.

Namrata was always curious to check the notice board. Frequently. Extra-curricular activities had a magnetic effect on her—except sports, in which she was a zero. She always looked out for opportunities in debate, elocution, prose and essay writing—and there were some more, which I can’t remember now, never mind. And one fine day, she was ecstatic. She didn’t sleep the previous night out of excitement. Because she was getting an opportunity to attend a workshop being held in People’s Multipurpose High School. She studied on the same school campus but in the English medium. What workshop, you ask? Don’t rush. Stories are to be told slowly, building up curiosity.

The hall—‘Raita Bhavana’ in the PM High School—was decked up tidily for the event. Two students from each school across Ankola were invited. Namrata and one other student were chosen from PM English Medium. Adult Namrata doesn’t even remember her fellow participant now, because back then the teenager was far too busy showing off in front of her friends from other schools. Showing off her grades? Nope. She was flexing about snacks! She already knew the menu, she knew the hosts and organisers, she could ask the peon-aaya for an extra medu vada. That was her “insider privilege,” and she was enjoying it.

The whole gathering was waiting for the program to get started. It was a Poetry Writing workshop for young students (in Kannada). Not exactly a workshop—it was more of a talk, some chit-chat with THE OG JAYANT KAYKINI! If you know, you know. (I believe he needs no introduction if you’re reading my blog.) It was being held by Karnataka Saahitya Parishat. The gathering had to wait a good 20 to 30 minutes for the arrival of guests and until then, the young minds were all busy in their own worlds. Namrata was sitting in the front row and was carefully tearing up all the leaves from the long stem of the rose she was holding—the one she would soon offer to welcome Kaikini ji.

Finally, it was the moment. The guests arrived, took their seats, the welcome ritual was done. A few students who had written poems were given a chance to recite them to the gathering. Namrata was one among them too, and she was grateful for that opportunity. Some of her fellow participants had come up with very good poems. That left a big, inspirational impact on her to write more such pieces.

After all this, it was time for the resource person’s talk. Jayant Kaikini stared at the audience and began his speech. Namrata was all ears! She was absorbing each word floating in the air. She also had a notepad and pen ready in her hand to jot down all that she wanted. The teenager hardly knew Jayant ji’s style of speech—it was a homely, warm talk rather than a list of tips and tricks. After all, a writer/poet has no ‘tricks’. But the teenager Namrata didn’t know this—she was new to the world of literature. She and the whole gathering enjoyed his talk. She didn’t even blink. Kaikini ji’s words included his earlier days of writing, his inspiration and the art of finding inspiration for poems from our day-to-day lives. He spoke only for about 15 to 20 minutes and this bit struck Namrata’s mind:

“Re-reading and re-writing your poems is the key. If you want a fine, good poem, carry the draft in your pocket all the time. Keep it in your shirt pocket, or in your handbag, or keep it beside your bed. Read it every now and then when you see it. When you re-read, you find something that’s not right or you’ll come up with something more appropriate and you’ll re-write. This way your work gets fine-tuned.”

After that, the teenager followed this without fail. Not only while writing poems, but also in every facet of her life.

Now—it is 2025—and I am still following this. This has become one of the principles I live by. I re-read my write-ups, stories and poems several times. I re-check my answer sheets in exams. I do taste-checks when I am cooking. I double-check my daily work at the office. This has added a little more confidence, satisfaction and awareness in me. Of course, there are some exceptional cases where reconsidering would ruin the work. Say, I am done with a painting and when I keep looking at it many times—I may end up spoiling it by overlaying extra shades or overdoing the lines.

Let us carry this habit with care. Re-reading, in the right spirit, is not about endless doubt—it is about sharpening, refining, and seeing things clearer than before. It is a way of respecting our own effort, of paying attention to the details that make a difference. Be it a poem, a painting, an exam sheet, or even an ordinary day—when we pause, re-look and reconsider, we often discover something we missed the first time. And in that discovery, there is growth. There is awareness. There is a quiet kind of perfection.