This might seem amateurish, or even a silly post, where I am trying to answer some questions about my ‘writing skills’, which is nothing more than ‘hobby gone public’!
The best about writing
Writing is my intimately personal time with myself – almost meditative in nature. It is a process which magnifies the nuances and helps me understand the subtleties of myself and the world I operate in, with words oozing out many a times involuntarily.
I envisage a picture of myself untangling the convoluted self into layers, which are clearer and deeper with every installment of my personal writing. The immediate gratification it accompanies and the cosiness it renders in retrospection are irreplaceable joys.
What makes me write
Venting out oneself in a sensible means of expression is natural to every person. I do it relatively well when writing than when I try to sing, dance or draw.
Ideas and my obsession about them have made me write and still continues. The notion of volatility associated with the way our mind works, and the prospects of capturing those sparkles in words is what initially made me want to write, and I am still failing at that task.
The fascination associated with the world a writer can create and lead his readers into, with nothing but powerful and impacting words is another inspiration.
Also all the articulation joy that describing and savoring beauty can bestow is an incentive. When there’s poetry, what other reason to write?
In essence – ideas, anguish and beauty remain the most important sources, driving me to write, each impacting and molding me in a profound way.
Feelings about writing
I remember days, rather nights when I wake up in the middle of my slumber and have jotted down my scribblings in my notepad. When I read them in the morning, they seem quite unbelievable, for, the unfettered conveyance they are able to yield. This apart, I have now shaped my writing to be an introspective mirror, which I quite often fall back to to resolve my internal conflicts. It has also grown to become an asset which has been successful in taking me to the places, and closer to the people I have wanted and longed for.
Writing today has become the verbal extension of the biological me. It simultaneously fills me and empties me, renewing me in an incessant cycle.
Writing is the closest to the artistic experience I can deliver, with my painting of words and sculpting of essays.
PS: In response to some sweet queries (which by itself is flattering) about my passion for writing