To all writers and writers-to-be, there is something that compels you to start creating your own baggage of words in order as poems or stories or essays or even meager status updates. If you were to invest a minute or two in pondering over the "why" question, the answers would be pretty much disturbing!
I started writing when I was about 14 years old (I am referring to the time when I actually started blogging). Initially, it was the immediate fascination to the technology that lured me into the space of techno-virtuality; and this continued more as a thing to boast about that I was into internet and that I knew about computers and web-designings and all that crap.
As years passed, I fell in love (well, something to my perception that makes me believe that I am normal enough), and there came the puerile poetry of love and romance. Very soon, I started appreciating the aesthetically amusing words, and literature helped me a great deal to savour the mellifluous tasteful melodies of just plain words. I started reading books, and the gallimaufry of words danced before my eyes which further initiated my urge to write on multifarious themes. Let me be very honest, I was truly hopeless at writing (and I still think that I am no better now), but it was just the urge 'to be heard' that made me want to write more.
When I was doing my post-graduate course, this urge 'to be heard' become overwhelmingly intense, and I started writing on real random and abstract concepts. At that time, I think I was writing merely because it was satisfying my ego. An ego that went on growing big in me only to defy me in the end, an ego that told me that I was becoming important but soon brought me down to my knees and shot me through the already shattered self. I guess, this reality check was absolutely necessary. I realized how wrong I was when my writings were measured using tools of criticism.
I failed and fell, but I got up not to just walk but to rise.
I began writing when there was really a muse before me, a deepest desire that flowed in the manner of words - poems, stories, philosophy, essays, etc. - I simply wrote. Academic writing is different, but writing to fuel your own soul is entirely different. This epiphany has done great good to me. It keeps me in check, prevents me from overdoing the labours of writing, and helps me appreciate the subliminal beauty of just words.
I always admire the way you write. Its almost five years, I started reading your posts. I see thought provoking, creative and simple expressions. I enjoy reading your posts and learnt a lot. I do read various blogs comparing is not wise as each one has a way of expression. But your words always make me think frankly speaking I started writing as well. Keep writing as enjoy doing it.
ReplyDeleteI'm truly blessed to have you in my life. Thank you very much!
DeleteSo we come to this again.. a volley of words in self deprecating, thinking, analysing, validating and just as much self criticising as can be mortally possible.. yet that too is done in words.
ReplyDeleteDattatreya was a self content guru, walking along the paths of the world as HE was meant to be, a bunch of dogs always surrounded him and walked ahead. Much as they were loyal and true, they turned back once a while for validation . A validation that was not necessary as the teacher was always there and always would be.
Don't let mere words define who you are panda and also who are these muses, little inspiration passing this side also please 🤓
Inspiration asking for inspiration!!!
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