I have always pondered over the question - why did I start writing, and always the first answer that came to mind is to be heard and to be read. I write for myself and my readers and not for the critique, for I am not at all sure of myself and my writing ability. The readers may take me or leave me, and if they take me, read and interact, I feel content, I feel happy and I feel worthy. I believe most writers feel an urge to express themselves to the world, to find sympathizer and audience in like minded people. Many, not all though, writers are introspective, loners and shy to speak of their emotions. Long suffering hearts pour out in many cases in small black words, letters and sentences and the load lessens somewhat.
I remember in my early days I took up the pen but put it down, when my near and dear ones, smiled indulgently or patronizingly, and even with a ridicule intended but suppressed by their better sense. But again I took up the pen and thought I should try to be less expressive, more polished and improve upon my tool, the knowledge of the lingo. I hope to have achieved some what to that direction and I thank all my readers for that, for giving me strength, for listening, for not slighting my lack of linguistic excellence. Except , of course, the man who loved and married me.
THANK YOU ALL FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART
I remember in my early days I took up the pen but put it down, when my near and dear ones, smiled indulgently or patronizingly, and even with a ridicule intended but suppressed by their better sense. But again I took up the pen and thought I should try to be less expressive, more polished and improve upon my tool, the knowledge of the lingo. I hope to have achieved some what to that direction and I thank all my readers for that, for giving me strength, for listening, for not slighting my lack of linguistic excellence. Except , of course, the man who loved and married me.
THANK YOU ALL FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART
No comments:
Post a Comment