Words

It's been almost a month since I wrote something. Why? I don't know
It's not as if my life turned upside down and crumbled apart or my hopes and aspirations died in an avalanche of misfortune and solitude.

Have you ever felt like your existence doesn't matter?

Everything could be going well, you're supposed to be satisfied and happy because hey there are  people who live in conditions worse off and you've got no reason to cry about a minor inconvenience which didn't create a gaping hole in your life.

A wave of sadness washes over you and hits you like a ton of bricks. Most people become writers when they happen to go through this. Sadness and heartbreak are the ingredients of writers.

I write because I don't believe in writing to feel light after ranting to a screen. I write because the truth sets me free.

I write when I'm perfectly fine and can contemplate thoughts ranging from my first love to death. Writing according to me gives you the freedom to know the truth, to speak your own truth and to discover yourself.

As I sit down on the floor, writing whatever comes to my mind I'm happy even if it's for a moment. What I need you to know is that it's not important or necessary that you write just because your heart broke for the umpteenth time but rather write because it is an ecstasy and an adventure full of ups and downs.

I was a six year old when I read my first book. The words weren't something which I could understand completely but the meaning was crystal clear and completely etched in my kiddo brain. I write because I want to feel rather than find meaning in places where it doesn't exist.

I write because I'm a storyteller, with my words becoming my guide and my pages becoming my canvas on which there is an  indescribable art, seen by many but understood by a few.