Writing 101 Day 1: Today, tell us: why do you write? Set a timer and free-write for 15 or 30 minutes without stopping.
I do not remember the time I first started writing but I remember a time when my brother & I, would write down stories for each other and then read them out loud to one another. That was the first time I shared my writing with someone other than my diary.
And then there was that time when I would miss my mother and pretend to talk to her while I wrote in my diary. I wrote about the things at school, the bullying, the taunts. I narrated my favourite scene from the cartoon show I loved to watch, and how excited I was for the next episode. I wrote about my abusive relatives and I wished I was as brave as the protagonist of that cartoon.
By nature, I was never a mischief-monger. I was quiet as a child and used to keep company with my books and imaginary friends. School had never been a sanctuary for me and there were very few of those I could call ‘friends’. My only friend and comrade was my sibling. And those were the only time I got into mischiefs – things that were natural for children our age.
And through all these times, I wrote – everyday, sometimes multiple times a day. I vented & ranted, mused and introspected. The presence of a pen and paper in my hand was a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. And so I wrote, and carried this habit with me as I grew up.
Today I write to clear my head, especially at times when I’m struggling with depression and panic attacks. Mine aren’t very severe as to make my family worried but they are there, ready to spring on me at times when I least expect them. My family doesn’t know of the hole I live in, the same one that has punctured my soul numerable times. The only witness, the one that knows is my diary.
Watching my hands as they fly over the paper, imprinting them with marks, with the proof of my time on Earth, has an immediate soothing effect on me.
Today I write not only about my life but also the fictious world that lives inside my head. I see my characters, their journey and the path they travel. I write these and some more. I watch in anticipation when my hands hurry over the tattered papers or the keypad of my phone as sudden inspiration hits me. I write to capture my blessings that are so easy to forget amongst all the struggles of human life.
I write so that I know when I’m in the wrong because sometimes admitting your mistake is the most difficult thing and yet, if you lie and pretend to be in the right, you risk imprisoning yourself in a cage of pretence and false pride.
I write to let my conscience smother my sensitive nature, to let go of the hurt that is so easily inflicted by spoken words. I write because it guides me to the right path. Someday I hope to write to inspire others and bring happiness to their world. But today, for now, I write for myself.