Write.
I write in whatever capacity I can. I was once asked if I write directly on the blog and I said, “No, I write it in a diary first.” “Why”? Because I write……
Write how I was taught to do in school. Pull a page, pick a pen. Clicking tabs on a device never helped me cry my heart out as a pen on a paper did. Every curve, every cross, every dot gives a rush - an excitement of communication like no other means.
I stare at those words, they tell me why, what and how to write the next word, the next line. I take my time to think and write. It might just save few horrendous and absolutely avoidable fights you know! There is no backspace. I scratch, re-write and scratch again. Believe me when i say this - the scratches make it flawless. More genuine. More real.
Something written on a piece of paper is far more colourful than any electronic message. When I physically put pen to my words, I paint my feelings. They burst out with a splash and spatter across the page. They shine with happiness, they blush with love and bleed with pain. Sometimes when all that fails, there are actual coloured pens/pencils which are put to good use!
But here’s why I truly write. It will make what I wish to say, stay for eternity. I remember how I found these old letters written full of admonishment and advices from wiser ones in the family, unposted ones written to lovers, hidden ones - from friends - bursting with gossip & secrets. I found them in the attic - brown and faded. Torn & somewhat tattered. But still there. Still made me wise, made me laugh, made my eyes widen at some forgotten secret and broke my heart a little, yet again. Ouch ! After all these years and for always - those words are still around and shall always be. They have after all been etched for eternity. They need not be deleted because I’ve run out of storage capacity!
These pages will always hold my words dear. So I give it to them. Entrust them with my all.
They never disappoint.
I write in whatever capacity I can. I was once asked if I write directly on the blog and I said, “No, I write it in a diary first.” “Why”? Because I write……
Write how I was taught to do in school. Pull a page, pick a pen. Clicking tabs on a device never helped me cry my heart out as a pen on a paper did. Every curve, every cross, every dot gives a rush - an excitement of communication like no other means.
I stare at those words, they tell me why, what and how to write the next word, the next line. I take my time to think and write. It might just save few horrendous and absolutely avoidable fights you know! There is no backspace. I scratch, re-write and scratch again. Believe me when i say this - the scratches make it flawless. More genuine. More real.
Something written on a piece of paper is far more colourful than any electronic message. When I physically put pen to my words, I paint my feelings. They burst out with a splash and spatter across the page. They shine with happiness, they blush with love and bleed with pain. Sometimes when all that fails, there are actual coloured pens/pencils which are put to good use!
But here’s why I truly write. It will make what I wish to say, stay for eternity. I remember how I found these old letters written full of admonishment and advices from wiser ones in the family, unposted ones written to lovers, hidden ones - from friends - bursting with gossip & secrets. I found them in the attic - brown and faded. Torn & somewhat tattered. But still there. Still made me wise, made me laugh, made my eyes widen at some forgotten secret and broke my heart a little, yet again. Ouch ! After all these years and for always - those words are still around and shall always be. They have after all been etched for eternity. They need not be deleted because I’ve run out of storage capacity!
These pages will always hold my words dear. So I give it to them. Entrust them with my all.
They never disappoint.
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