"Dedicate to all authors whose genre is different from love"
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Words were his slaves, slaves they are who would enslave who reads them. So he prospered by writing, he was not just a man but a magician who would make the readers sink into the ocean of paradise and change their lives through his stories, not in a bad but in a good way. That was once, but not now. He did dance, sing and merry over his victories and glories until his ocean was conquered by a mere sea- "the Dead Sea". The Dead Sea made the readers to float from sinking into his ocean, thereby ruining him.
“Dead sea? What is it?”, you may childishly ask that man, but I would suggest not to, but I know well that you would ask me what for heaven’s sake would happen if I ask him, this is my reply to your answer: HE WILL SCORN AT YOU! BRING THE HELL OVER HERE FOR YOUR HEAVEN’S SAKE QUESTION! So don't take such risks because I am the oracle who knows his story so I shall tell his past.
Dead Sea is the goddamned love stories which deprived him off his prosperity and destroyed him into nothing better than a beggar. He is a Man Booker Prize award winner for one of his works, but all the fame faded away when the world got busy with its work and did not have time to read stories which were complicated, so the world chose to read stories with genres like love, romantic comedy etcetera. The world was lust seeking than moral seeking, it wanted at least one part where humans made “love” in the stories but not a story which would change their lives in a good way because it was hard to understand and was time consuming. Innumerable authors were affected whose genre of writing was different from that of love or romantic comedy. So many authors went bankrupt some even went to suicide. Even our author described here is one among the affected.
This man is totally destroyed now, both by wealth as well as by mind. He could never accept that he has become ashes and his writing was of no power any more. For a person like him who thought writing was his life, it was too much to accept all this. He was not single but with a wife and, a son who got dropped out of the school, this thought that he could not educate his son killed him a million times before his death.
This world is full of opportunities but one has to discover to use them, this man is totally devastated and with a little energy left to discover the opportunities but his hopelessness was becoming the reason for his peril. With no other options left for him, he choses to suicide to end this pain and lose his hold over this wicked world.
With all kinds of emotions overflowing in his body he reaches for his wardrobe in which he had kept a rope which he had borrowed from his friend. He was with full off confusions and miseries, but all of them would vaporize the second his life is taken away by that rope. He looks around to see a good spot to hang this rope, finding that there is no other place other than the ceiling fan turning on the top, he heads to the switchboard to turn it off and begin his preparations for his death as silently as possible.
At that instant a torn paper comes flying to him from his writing table and sticks to his hand. He without his knowledge holds the paper to see what is written on it. His expressions gradually change as he reads through the paper and finally breaks into tears and throws the rope away.
This was what was written on that torn piece of paper, it was from one of his old works:
..... "Suicide is done by people not to die but to end their sufferings. They do so because they don’t find any other alternative, but if you ask me Ram I would say that’s just foolishness. We are given to live and wait for our death but not hurry towards it. Something which you don't see or know is not that it does not exist… it is just that it does not appear! All these bastards before they suicide if they take one last minute to think and find a solution to their problems they would have been the happiest people, because they have got a second chance to live"……