Dreaming by day, doing by night

Chalk doodles — November 13, 2015

Chalk doodles

Today I found chalks in my drawer. My first instinct was to draw over my black table. Here are the results:

Production Possibility Curve in Economics
A little sketch of someone 🙂

Not bad, huh?

A rant about writing —

A rant about writing

Do you know that feeling after you’ve read a great book? That sense of completedness and infinite possibilities that consumes you and makes you giddy with it?

I think that writers are truly underappreciated. The quote  ‘The pen is mightier than the sword’ has never felt more relevant to me. Lasting physical injury can be caused accidentaly or unintentionally, but emotional pain inflicted by words can never be unintentional. Somewhere, it was intentional at some point of time to that person. It really was.

A writer is one who gives a sense of belonging to the littlest of things, like the brown splatter of dirt on the grey tar road. A writer is one who makes concrete structures out of wispy clouds. A writer is not just a writer, but a multitude of things. A writer is a scientist, experimenting with thoughts, emotions and feelings along with possessing a large amount of knowledge. A writer is an artist, giving beauty to everything and everyone around.

Many say that writers and are lost. But I believe that they are the least lost people in the world. They give meaning to life’s little inconsistencies, they answer unanswered questions in their own way and bring comfort with their explanations. They belong in a world of their own. Others may be lost, but never writers. They mould castles and dreams from the void, they are great finders of truth and live their lives from an outsider’s point of view, just so they can cherish each moment, grasp every opportunity and bend every rule to turn people’s lives monumentally.

Intentionally or unintentionally.

Writers don’t have boundaries. They use words as weapons and sentences as soothing balms.

A book, however incomplete, may be complete within itself.  It is, quite literally, the soul of the writer poured carefully into the pages. A good book can make mice of men or mice into men.

But all this has been said before, hasn’t it? Through the years, I’ve had to choose between a successful career or writing- it could never be both. Why did it have to be that way, I asked. Any answer I got was never enough. Now I know why. Maybe I was supposed to find this out by myself.

Writing can never be compromised. It has to be given one hundred percent devotion, dedication, love and passion.

If till today, I had any resentment towards those who were against my dreams of becoming a writer, I have forgiven them completely. A good writer has experiences like no other has had and that is how they write with great empathy.

Maybe one day, I’ll publish my own book. Maybe I’ll fulfill my dream of seeing my name on print. Maybe  books will become obsolete then. Maybe I won’t ever become a full fledged writer. Maybe I’ll never be good enough to publish my own book. Maybe the passion I have for writing will eventually die out like everything does in some people. 

There are infinite possibilities in the world. We should take things as they come.

I don’t know anything about the future. What I do know is that if I become a writer, I’ll become the best damn writer the world has ever seen.