The first blog I wish to write about is writing itself. I still remember the day when I started writing. In the fifth standard, when an 8-year old girl who had just started using an equipment called ‘pen’, was very confused about the surprise for the approaching mother’s day. No ideas at all, no actual thinking at all, what she had was just the enthusiasm to make her mumma feel special. It was a Saturday preceding the mother’s day. There was one children magazine which had a beautiful, little poem on mothers obviously. I still don’t know what hit me and I actually wrote two rhyming stanzas, completely unaware of the beautiful journey that had already commenced with this two cute stanzas. The journey is still on, the beautiful and amazing journey of more than 500 quotes, the journey where I blossomed like a bud. In this expedition of discovering myself, I traversed a lot of new forms and styles of writing, may it be poems, quotes, and even short stories. Right from 17-word haiku to long ghazals, from expressing in mother tongue Gujarati to conversing emotions in the global language English, from reading through the works of various authors to editing and improvising my own words; this beautiful trip of sculpting the inner artist was just so soothing and satisfying.
Here, the basis is that it all started with a muse, an inspiration to give something to my mother and in the process of gifting her something, I actually dug up this mine excavating a skill, a way and an experience that fills me. For me, art is animate as well as abstract. You can mold it, you can shape it and just make it your own yet keeping it exclusive. It’s what completes you yet leaving a void to fill it still better. This skill, this gifted art form of writing helped me grow better as a person. Art is a continuous process for me, it’s not a part or phase of life, it’ the life itself for me as an artist.
Recently, due to hectic schedules of studies, I was unable to write something proper. The last time I wrote was 1st June and afterwards just a haiku a week back. Everyday, I woke up, studied ,slogged and went to sleep. It felt so monotonous and empty. I knew it was the urge to write but I just can’t write anytime was the only thing that I knew. Writing is like a lover to me, I spend time when I want to, it’s never a compulsion and this wasn’t the only reason. As I am in 12th boards, I always had in mind that I can’t let writing affect my career as I always wanted to keep passion and profession different. This thing was just wandering that if I succumb to my urge to write, I am letting it rule my head. But when I can’t resist at last, I finally took a break and did some writing and also drawing which is actually and honestly not my cup of tea. I don’t know how or what’s the result but at that night, I finally had a contented sleep.
Ultimately, it dawned upon me that writing or any art form is a breath. You take it for granted at times but on a reality check, you can’t fantasize your existence without it. If you try to hold it for a long time, you are ought to feel suffocated. So, ending my first blog, I would like to sum up my whole journey of discovery of poetry through some stanzas composed by me.
Signing off ,
Keep smiling, keep feeling..☺️
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Categories: Reading Nook