Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Writers' block

There was this dream of becoming a writer that came in uninvited and lingered in the air. It, as I see had stemmed not really from the urge to write. But from the need of a ten year old to outdo a classmate who won considerable admiration from friends and teachers for a wonderful poem that she had written.
It was then that I decided to write a poem. The very first poem was named "Death". Though it had a strong flavor of philosophy every one around feared that I have some innate thoughts of death. As the poem got published in that years school magazine and got the praises of a local genius the fears seemed to take a backseat  and recognition took its place. 

As I grew up and had to  move out of home to new cities on work with none around to talk to, I started writing again to protect myself from the grinding grip of loneliness. I wrote on every small and big thing that made me think; A dream,a friend, a news item and anything.

Now, as I sit here with a mind entangled with too many issues I realize that there is nothing more that I can write at the moment!

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