Khaya Ronkainen

Where I left Off!

Posted on 03/13/2020 by Khaya Ronkainen

Don’t talk unless you can improve the silence. – Jorge Luis Borges

I’ve been silent about random things. Well, my word for 2020 has led to a number of split exercises. Unfortunately these “splits” are not as graceful as that of a gymnast. I’ll be honest, I resisted the word “expand” at first. Because I suspected it might stretch me in uncomfortable ways. Anyway, here’s what I’ve been up to:

1. Refocusing my content

I didn’t decide to refocus my content in order to rank up high in search engines, though that should be the aim, too. But it was to remind myself why I started this blog; to share my poetry initially. This remains my focus, even though I’m not “just [getting] the poems out there” at this point. Then there’s creative nonfiction, which I enjoy writing too.

2. The cleaning job

Towards end of last year, I started a series of Random Things. Even though I enjoyed, it felt haphazard and unfocused. I mean I didn’t even have proper post titles. I had to rethink it a bit and aim for some kind of coherence. So, this is my picking up from where I left off, and focusing on one or related subject(s) per post.

3. Consistency

Consistency remains a stretch. I enjoy interacting with you here, and also visiting and reading my favourite blogs. All this takes time. Therefore random things will be posted randomly and as time permits. But flash memoir will stay in place, i.e. every first Sunday of every month. Mini reviews of books I’ve read or listened to will be posted only where books are sold, even though I’ll continue to share what I’m reading here.

4. Exploring other forms of storytelling

There are other forms of storytelling I want to explore or develop further. Anyhow, I’ll keep you posted as these (not-so) new explorations take shape.

5. Beyond this blog

One of the ways I’m trying to stretch myself is to tell stories beyond this blog, and to different audiences. This is already in progress…

So, my “unproductive” creative period turned out to be productive, after all. Because a writer is always at work, even when she dusts the bookshelves.

Now I’d love to hear from you. How is your writing or creativity going, more especially in this time of Coronavirus that’s affecting everyone and everything? We are working and studying remotely this side; video/conference calls and online chats are the order of the day.

But more importantly, I hope you and your loved ones are staying healthy. Have a restful weekend!

Prose

The Entry Point

Posted on 03/01/2020 by Khaya Ronkainen

Growing up, I was never sporty. But I enjoyed hanging out in sporty circles, where my sporty sister’s suitors sometimes mistook for her. I was mostly a book nerd, and sometimes a floater in between high school social groups.

I eventually developed a decent amount interest in sport, and I still play tennis, badminton and Frisbee golf, among others. But it’s only when I hike long distances that I’m really in my element.

In summer 2015, I incurred a knee injury; a torn meniscus. You can attribute this to my enthusiasm in touch rugby, at a mature age. Up until then, I’ve never broken a bone or torn a muscle before, only minor sprains.

The injury took months to heal, age was a factor. In addition, the orthopaedist had advised against surgery. The strenuous work I was doing at the time made things worse. I was constantly on strong painkillers. In the end, I left the job.

I relied on crutches to walk, and it was simply painful to be this limited. But it was silence that was most acute. I felt so alone, even though my husband did everything in his power to support me and allay my fears. In the middle of the night, I would wake shaking and drenched in sweat. I had unreasonable nightmares.

The thought of never be able to hike and backpack in the wilderness again, made me afraid. This might sound trivial or dramatic. But I thought what would become of me, if I wasn’t able to write again. Because walking or hiking is my writing’s point of entry.

Prose

A Short-lived Poetic Romance

Posted on 02/02/2020 by Khaya Ronkainen

One day on my way to the library, I met a boy. The handsome but rather short boy stepped in front of me and smiled. Without any formalities but eye contact, he broke into a performance, and much to the amusement of students who were sitting in the foyer. He was reciting Keats’ Endymion, for me.

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

As a 17-year-old fresher, I stood transfixed with embarrassment and praying for some kind of miracle to save me. After what felt like eternity, he finished reciting, smiled and left. The highly-entertained crowd was still clapping as I, too, continued on my way.

“How did he know Keats was one of my favourites?” Embarrassment turned into excitement, I was flattered by the attention. When I got to the library, I abandoned all intention to study for an exam that was coming up the next day, and instead headed for the poetry section. As I cuddled up with Endymion, I realised he had recited the whole first stanza; 24 lines! I was impressed. And so, ensured the crush on a nameless boy.

note: I’m in a serious poetry writing funk, right now. I’m writing everything else, but poetry. This makes me feel as unsteady as the ocean. So, I share this piece (an excerpt of a longer essay I wrote to answer why I write poetry) as way to remind myself that (for me) poetry is a spontaneous overflow…I can’t force it.