Answers to my life questions!

The manifestation of certain words enlightens my way to create emotions on the curtains of the notebook. Ever since the beloved society entangled me in their rat race of humanoid sustenance, words like rebel and isolation crusaded my mind to the depth of writing. As my father whispered through the voices of society, it's a cake we can't even smell however having it is another world for us. Grasped all the stances of middle-class sayings and poured all my heart and mind into the paper until the brain stopped beating and heart resigned its control over thoughts. I hesitate to call myself a "writer", it seems baggage to carry throughout because I didn't even prepare my mind to get hold of that word. I love what I do which is pouring, creating, confessing, accepting and sometimes draining too which in my case needs ink and paper. Coming from a small town, it took me a long time in processing such exuberant medium and a lot of struggles to reach a mental state of acceptance my worth finally. The middle class isn't the correct way to define our state of upbringing. In our childhood, while tucking us in our bed at night, our parents don’t say anything motivational to change the world but instead whispers "Jai Mata Di" in our ears, which means belief and faith in god.

We learnt how to keep faith since the beginning of our conscience. On the other side, seeking situations as for implementation of such qualities was a treasure for us. I found it in the form of patience when going through the journey of discovering myself, I was introduced to faith when I was 23. Station of life under our parent ceiling ended, I was unleashed to society of different opinions which harboured my sense of attenuation to the ports of plagiarism in my choice of interests. Struggles were insinuating my thoughts of belief which made me more puzzled, the predominant mind of society was excruciating my only way to make my conscience clear. I was lost, the only quality I had started draining with time. This was not childhood where dirt could be cleaned by mother's scarf, not even that scratch on an elbow that my mother could just blow with her breath and pain would be gone. This was isolation inside which craved a cure in every second of inflation and deflation of lungs. I waited patiently and that too long enough implying different forms of "how to be content", I tried performing on stage. Like a wormhole consuming everything coming on its way, my emotions inside, cultivated actions, drama, an enigma of existence. It consumed all of it with a blink of an eye. Eventually, I found some courage to say something to myself within me, I can do this! I crippled thought of every words and emotion I ever experienced in life, it blew me off. Such colossal of enlightenment exist which I was unaware of. I pulled out every nerve of me saying "what will people say", I chose myself. Corrosive minds of people still came to me to renovate my thoughts like to satisfy their mentality too. But I stood there with one belief of achieving it till my last sigh of giving up. When things were starting to make its essence, I witnessed a loss in the family. Made me helpless again because emptiness is what I was getting hold of but not even close for overcoming that memory of such existence that strengthened my values. I was terrified, disturbed with the hollowness of never-ending thoughts. I acted but couldn't seek that inner peace which moulded my struggles with a backup of the corporate sector and finally I succumbed to give it all to write. The portrayal of my thought for the first time was unexpectedly on office laptop. It was the day next to when I acquainted the loss. Still remember thoughts were as sharp as slitting knives cutting the thinnest skin, that cut. I drained every tiny bit of it. Not knowing the medium at that state, it erringly got on mutual share and led many eyes to witness it in the office. I received my first applause for draining my pain. Had received many pats on my shoulders but it doesn't feel like that which I used to visualise. The peculiarity in such process was not that I learnt from a course or any institution. Life made me choose for it. I chose my story to pitch in for your question rather than answering with a request of my abilities to evaluate.

          "Words are like wood, we can make furniture, houses, fire and all we need.

                   “But its true value is only measured in each breath it had made possible."