The Frightening Art of Writing


I am usually torn between two different perspectives or more sometimes, for not only life-changing decisions, but for any simple silly point that I intend to make. Often I note that such a dilemma being phrased as a fight between the heart and brain. To be frank, I have a dilemma even on whether calling them heart and brain. They could be just two different thoughts, with two different electrical signals to pass through my neural networks. Anyhow this habit of self-doubt, because of fear of misinterpretation or misrepresentation of identities, or more precisely, fear of having balls, to face the consequences also kept me away from so many things. The Writing is the most important of them.

When I have something to say or write and stopped myself from saying it, even with all the modern linguistic tools available, I wonder many times how cavemen without language and script choose to respond. The writing over the millennia, had crossed varied paths. I doubt any homo sapiens who scribbled something on the rocks had the purpose of changing someone else through her/his abominable works. The language, letters, speech, the writing all evolved in tandem with humans, which in fact helped in the process of evolution.

The history shows us the times when the writing is held sacred, supreme, sometimes biased, godly, and turning out to be even revolutionary, uplifting, a mass-tool, an intimacy and even a dipshit. Now we are again in the era when the writing becomes completely universal, but more frightening for me than ever.

The growth of technology has helped us, inspired us, sometimes, forced us to hold a pen and start writing. It is no more for only the elite, or only those who write with a purpose, or those who write to rock the literary world. It is for everyone. But there are few scary things, which I encounter whenever I start typing, or start writing.

The most important thing that knocks my mind is, “If the most lazy person like you start writing, Then, Who will read? If everyone of us are writers, Who are its readers?” I would just sit back with my thoughts, hoping for some other alternative who could possibly write what I think, and who could also be a better writer and not lazy.

Then I sprung back hard, with an enlightening idea to tackle it, “See, Everyone of us talk. Why don’t everyone write just like that?”

It hit hard. “We talk to someone who listen. Who listen or Who read your writings?”

I stopped it by saying, “There may be someone. Never mind.”

The next one is very special for me. “You know everyone is writing. Everyone can write. Then why do you also waste your energy in writing something. Let’s sleep instead.”

This sounds so awesome to me, especially when my mind tries to think too much about current problem of our nation or the locality, and comes up with some possible solutions, and dreams of my one writing piece changing the whole scenario upside down the next day, and Someone from the other end of my brain just opined, “Hey, Lets’s sleep”.

Do I write to change the world?
Do I write to teach what I know?
Do I write to announce the spectacular thoughts that I get on some problems world wondering about?
Do I write to tell the vivid stories that I have been through all my life?

The questions keep filling me. The scary things getting closer to devour, stopping me from even a meagre thought of writing anything, until when I decide to open my mind, to accept what is true.

Then comes the enlightenment.
I write to feed the self. 🙂

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