Editor’s Note

I first heard Arundhathi Subramaniam talk about the role of meditative waiting at a writing workshop in Adishakti. That her words wove their way into my felt understanding of literature won’t surprise anyone who has been to any of her talks.  She tends to give unforgettable talks. But this talk had something more. It was one of those moments I wish I owned a printing press so that I could put the author through the mashers, collect them at the other end, return them to the mashers, and so on for several rounds, until the pure sugarcane essence of all that they knew had been collected. She had outlined an approach to writing, a certain technique, as it were, but a technique that didn’t have the algorithmic tedium of technique. It was practical, the way Zen meditation is practical. And it wasn’t phoney, because she clearly lived what she recommended. It was obvious the things she talked about needed to be in print.
Fortunately, time and circumstances have allowed to make that possible, if only in a modest way. It is with great pleasure that we present Arundhathi’s essay on the art of waiting. We hope it’ll be the start of a long conversation.

—Anil Menon
The Bombay Literary Magazine