Shut up amid the cackle.

Of Writing

Why did the craft of writing originate? Looking back at centuries past, answers are plenty yet elusive. Probably to give a better face to thought.....so many thoughts are best expressed in writing. What inspires anyone to write? What inspires anyone to create an immortality in ink, or for that matter, a print on virtual space? Probably the human quest for immortality...the burning quest to leave something behind, so that people remember us. We are surrounded by proof of this quest all around...in huge edifices of history. Why should books be treated differently?

So coming back to the question....among other thousand dilemmas, one of the prime dilemmas, I am sure, is "To write or not to write"... (sorry, dear Bard, to twist your thought, but I am sure you are not annoyed). Everyone feels an urge, definitely, even if only once in a lifetime, to create a colossus of their thoughts on paper. For some, it might just be a means to keep from forgetting what they want. Be it grocery lists, or to-do lists or lists of guests to be invited to a bash. For some it is a way of getting back in touch with themselves....for instance, I am writing this roundabout essay to actually find out why I want to write.

The inspirations might be anything....something as simple as a sudden lurch in the train which makes you lean out and throws your hair over your face, it might make you want to chronicle that moment forever. A beaming smile someone gave you on your way to work or finding your favourite food in the lunch box. It might be your favourite song or a weird glance from someone at work. It might be your boss who compliments your work or yells at you. It might be the very thought of writing. It might be the need to slow down and talk to someone without being answered or advised. It might be the need to look at your life from an outside perspective. It might be the need to laugh, to cry, alone, without the world looking at you....or conversely, it might be the need to enter the world. It might be the togetherness of the words or the solitude they offer. It might be the texture of a new notebook and the glistening ink of a much loved pen...it might be the musty smell of old memories and the roguish excitement of new thoughts.

Of all these, I write for the simplest reason possible. Just because I want to.

posted by Anupama. @ 12:27 pm