Let me start today with a little bit of history.
My personal history.
Or to be more precise, my writing history.
I started writing when I was in 6th grade. Or maybe 5th. Not really sure. It has definitely been a while. And the reason why I started was a girl who used to sit next to me and she had written 4 lines one day which rhymed, and to me as a 5th grader, reading those lines was like magic.
Don’t wanna exaggerate here but my whole world kind of changed. Those four lines sounded beautiful, and it occurred to me that if she can write that, why can’t I? So next couple of months, I spent reading several stories and started translating them into poem-like form, so that they rhyme every alternate sentence.
For me, that was quite an accomplishment at that age.
For everyone else that I showed it to, it wasn’t.
Most of them didn’t get it and probably thought I was wasting my time doing things that no one else was doing.
And this has carried on for my whole life and still does with most of the things I do.
But I’m a stubborn kind. So I said, fuck them. I’ll keep on doing what I like to do.
And that’s pretty much how I learned everything.
Growing up in a place where creative endeavors were limited to only painting in classrooms as a part of curriculum wasn’t particularly easy when you have a knack of doing things that are considered “different”. But having family and friends who didn’t discourage that was a big plus.
And years down the lane, a funny thing happened.
It’s okay to be different now.
It’s okay to learn tennis when everyone else is playing cricket.
It’s okay to play guitar when everyone else is spending their time on the streets.
It’s okay to write and express when everyone else is being everyone else.
And it couldn’t have made me any prouder when I found out how my younger sister picked up on these things and started pursuing what she likes to do. Maybe this is a common thing for you to happen around you or in your family, but trust me when I say this, as a brother, there’s no bigger feeling than seeing your younger sister have the guts to follow what she wants.
Here’s one of her poems she sent me few days ago. I read it and it instantly took me back many years ago when I used to write and not show it to anyone because I was so sure they wouldn’t get it. Or maybe I was just scared of what they’ll think of it.
And to anyone reading this who’s afraid of sharing any personal art, whether it’s paintings, writing, music, anything in public for whatever reason, let me tell you something. You’re way better at it than you think you are. And you’re not gonna find that out until you do it. So please, just do it. Thank you.
“More, I discover this outside world,
I feel connected to it,
Preserved each bit,
More, I discover these people,
I open up,
They, Extremely treacle,
I, can’t hold up…”
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