Writer’s diary

A writer’s diary,

Is a wand of cynical magic,

A plethora of inquisitive ideologies,

A colossal of art,

A canyon of irresistible plots.

 

One cannot simply crack open

The core of a writer’s diary,

For it vastly comes in an encrypted verses,

That a profound mind

Only can make any sense.

 

A writer’s diary

Is far more complex

And benevolent on it’s own.

 

With no lack of quintessential wonders,

Abominable astonishments,

Quack-whack of mysteries and

Irresolvable puzzles,

It serves us a fine-dine of mixed arts.

 

A writer’s diary contains

Undeveloped story lines,

Ignored poems,

Forbidden thoughts,

Unacceptable confessions,

Withering secrets.

 

 

They are not just day to day fancies,

But a heart’s beat by beat recordings.

They are not time to time blabbers,

But a confrontation of real-self.

They aren’t the monologues of a single character,

But are meant to be related by all who reads.

Those sobs, wits, mourns, brain storms, heart wrecks

Together forms a globe house of emotions.

 

You can’t sit and go through a writer’s diary

In a single go,

And also you can’t do it in a linear fashion.

Before opening it,

Brace yourselves,

To take over an epic adventure.

 

What you get from a writer’s diary.

Won’t be read through a writer’s book

What you perceive of that writer

Through his/her published works,

Will become a mere delusion

After reading their diary.

 

If you want to know a writer,

By his soul and spirit,

To view their insights in a naked form,

Which was covered by fake necessities,

To consume the greatest ethereal mind,

Then go read a writer’s diary.

-Maha

How to make a writer write?

It is as simple as cutting a piece of cake

And as hard as making a mountain crack.

–

You don’t need to tell us ‘Write this’ or ‘Try Writing that’,

Because it will never get into our stonecold head.

–

You just make a conversation about life,

We produce an art from it.

–

You kick us out of your life despite our trust on you,

We may produce an epic from it.

–

You walk past looking deep into our eyes with love,

We can contemplate it into an art of romance.

–

You cross overus with a glintful smile,

We instill a beauty from it.

–

You ignore us and don’t consider us as even a filthy human being

We make you dwell into an invincible mystery thriller.

–

You dare not mess up with us.

We are equipped with the world’s most powerful weapon called ‘Words’

We shred your hearts into pieces,

And leave you with nothing behind,

Except a shallow nightmare.

–

You kindle our dark past,

We scramble up the pages hard.

–

You remind us our delightful smiles,

We recreate your own past.

–

You plot the dots,

We connect them for you.

–

To know about us is a difficult task both for you and for ourselves,

To think about us will makes you confused,

To talk about us may become the hardest thing to do.

But if we come to know you do all these,

We certainly help you do them in a better way

By letting you read everything we plucked out of our minds.

–

If you feel like you need to read more of our works

Even after reading us and

Being able to stand in front without dangling legs,

Then try some of the above things again.

We promise you to enlighten your hearts more than ever.

–

If nothing goes well, just stay unnoticed

As we notice the unnoticed

And crackle the world with your life stories.

–

You can only live around a writer

And be a reason for him/her to write

But you can never make a writer write.

Can never.

-Maha.

Why I write?

         Such question is familiar with most of the writers who aspires to become one. We humans only tend to look deep into the things only when we need that thing desperately in our lives. Such curiosity being expressed by we writers are urging us to think ‘Why we write?’  Numerous writers had answered this question either because they wanted to find out the answer or because other writers had tried to find an answer for it. I don’t know which category I belongs to. Let this post be an attempt to find out answers for both the questions. 

        So ‘Why I write?’ whether because it is giving me happiness? No, many things are giving me happiness, but I can say writing gives me immense happiness when compared to others. That’s cannot be only reason why I write. Then why do I need to stumble upon this thing? Does it give me satisfaction? That’s not the answer. If I start writing to satisfy myself, I may get convinced that what level I am currently possesing is enough for me. A person who have passion towards life aren’t supposed to satify themselves at any stage on their way to achieve dreams.  That doesn’t comply my obsession towards writing. So what does this writing thing have to do with me? Am I expecting to earn name and fame? It’s one of the biggest questions which I can answer in single word-‘NO’. I like name and fame, I mean who doesn’t like getting praised for soemthing which they are good at? But I don’t find Writing as a passage for obtaining that. Fame isn’t the ultimate destination for one’s dreams. I like to get praised for my writing ,but I am not writing only because I like appraisal- there is a difference. Why the hell am I sticking to writing then? May be beacause I am jobless and have lots of time to sit and strain my ears and fingers so that I can pass my time? Or may be I don’t have any other useful commitments like others have which leads me to write so that I can pretend to have some serious commitment? Hell no. If I want to boast myself as being a serious, ambitious person I don’t necessarily need to write anything let alone blabber to everyone that I am obsessed with writing. I neither write for I have lots of leisure time, because I know ‘leisure-time’ had lost it’s meaing a long ago in my life. That isn’t the reason. 

        Many claims that they like to write because they needed to drop down their pain and feel relieved. Yes I accept, it makes us feel like it is relieving our pains in one or other way. But believe me, it only fairly increase our small wounds as bigger ones which again urges us to write more and more and more hoping that one day we will become free like others forgetting our past. Moreover it make that thing stay in our hearts forever by writing it. Writing can only help us get used to the pains in lives. 

        So what pulls me to type hard so as to publish this post within tonight? What makes me stay still with patience until I get a topic to pen down? What urges me to scribble something when I see a paper and pen together?  Why am I feeling this overwhelming desire to pour down my views once I see something that many have not even noticed? Why do I feel proud for capturing that moment? What is the reason for my unbearable craziness towards writing?  What makes me think of 1000 things,write 100 things, do 10 things, say 1 thing and be like nothing? Why am I so so engrossed in this little world of unseen wonders for which I am the only king? 

        I am experiencing the small glimpse of the actual answer for all the above questions. Whatever I guessed are all part of the answer. But the actual reason is that, it keeps me alive mentally. It makes feel like I am one such organism this world that had got its gift of writing down what is happening around. It gives me courage to tell others what is inside my heart which most of the people doesn’t possess. It refines and defines my identity in this world. It helps me reveal the unknown truths about myself. I write becaue I am nothing but a species that wants to write.

I write becaue I am a writer.