I should really warn you about what I’m about to write, about what you’re about to read. But, here’s a tiny, little secret I’ve never told anyone; I don’t have the slightest idea what that may be either. For, I rarely ever do.
But then again, for me, writing is like breathing. As always, my fingers lie poised, and then they seem to play almost by themselves on the keyboard, to a melody only they can hear. And so, words dance around, entangling mixed emotions, forming little sentences, with memories so raw and feelings that are almost palpable once more. The simplest and dearest of pleasures, I have come to know, is inking in these words, weaving them together, and watching them gently sprawl their way across the page.
Those who write tend to feel with emotions that most certainly would suffocate most. It is precisely this that enables the feelings to flow freely into simple, little words.
Lately, I have had quite a lot on my mind. And, I keep finding myself delving deeper and deeper into the very corners of my shell of introspection. Somedays, one may feel blue for no apparent reason. I reverted to ice-cream & chocolate therapies – Did it do any good? Not quite… unless getting bloated and ending up with about twenty zits on your face is what you were aiming for.
As we pave our way through life, the winding road twists and turns. Some of these twists good, and some not-so-good. Heck, it might even seem as life itself is working hard to thwart one’s pursuit of happiness. For a while, we may lose our footing. Look within yourself, and find it in yourself to keep going on, just glide forward. They say all good things will come to an end. I strongly disagree. Good things will fall apart only so that better things fall together. People may come, and people may go. But, writing, it seems, will forever beckon me. ..
For me, writing is one of life’s simple pleasures – it whisks you away to a world where it’s you, just you, at peace. It’s where my thoughts rein free, my words hang unchained, and my spirits fly right into the clouds. The things that take each one of us to places vary – Lavender sunrises, the smell right after it rains, the breaking of dawn, the birth of a baby, the sounds of a bird chirping, or a game of football, a run early in the morning. Whichever yours may be will always serve as a “sweet escape”.
And for me, that’s my writing.
Write, and you shall grow to love it. And one day, it will become a part of you that no one could ever take away. So to all those who want to write, I say, please do write. For, anyone can write. If it is your purpose & your being, it will forever summon you. And in time, it becomes the very beat of our heart. A beautiful thing, it certainly is.
“Who wants to become a writer? And why? Because it’s the answer to everything. … It’s the streaming reason for living. To note, to pin down, to build up, to create, to be astonished at nothing, to cherish the oddities, to let nothing go down the drain, to make something, to make a great flower out of life, even if it’s a cactus.”