On Writing

My true ally, my perfect confidante!

Radhika Ghosh
Musings and Memories

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Source

No, this isn't a summary of the bestselling book On Writing by Stephen King. It is rather a free-flow writing and the result of a spontaneous creative flow emerging from the depths of my emotional attachment to the art of writing.

Since childhood, I have loved written words whether they are books, magazines, pamphlets or mere handwritten notices on the classroom blackboard in school. Call me old school, but I love how the pen glides on the paper and makes that beautiful sound.

I am a 90’s kid, so we didn't really have stuff like ASMR videos. But for me, the sound of writing on paper was a special and heartwarming one. It calmed me and brought me closer to the habit that I loved to pursue later during my adulting days.

We all know that writing is meditative. Putting your heart out and bleeding on the paper is not everyone’s cup of tea. Writing requires madness — the unbelievable confidence to think your words will be interpreted in the same spirit as you wrote them.

In this era of heightened (and sometimes deliberate) miscommunication, words are often misinterpreted and writers misunderstood. But to hold onto your writing and to continue spreading your message through this simple but meaningful act is praiseworthy. Brave, my fellow writers!

That was a bit of a digression. Back to the point!

My parents were amazing writers, especially during their long-distance courtship days. No wonder, their love story began and thrived on exchanging letters steeped in nascent emotions and written with colourful sketch pens!

Apart from the million other things that I’m thankful to them for, I’m grateful for their impeccable writing skills that they have generously passed on to me and for the kindness, love and warmth they have brought me up with.

Love and writing have a very beautiful connection. Both start from the soul and continue till the writer or the lover breathes last. The first time I wrote a love poem was for my crush in the ninth grade whom I had met in my Math tuition (not a very ideal place for early romance to bloom but then, love denies all rules).

I wrote couplets, what I believed were blank verses, long-drawn sentences full of love and admiration. But my intention was hardly to communicate my feelings. I wrote for myself — to get acquainted with the new feeling of my adolescent days and to relive those moments 10 or 20 years later just to get the taste of the enigmatic experience of falling and failing in love for the first time.

Writing is my restful endeavour. I write to know myself, have clarity of thought, keep up with the changes that happen to me, and shape my personality. I write so that I remember the importance of feeling all emotions completely to be able to articulate them into meaningful and heartfelt words. Words that can move hearts and spark thoughts!

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