The day I took to writing, I was grooving in cloud 9. I thought of building a castle in the air. I dreamt of flying high by spreading the mammoth wings tied to the boisterous limbs, braving against the rage of the sun, championing private moments with the moon under her eclectic charms. Again diving back to the deep sea to conquer an oyster and take possession of the pearl for generating a shiny idea for my first story.
I succeeded with the first launch and I was reeling under an illusion I had won the applause of Edmund Hilary who braved his life to create a history by climbing the treacherous peak of the Mt. Everest.
I took some break, went for freaks to collect ideas for my second launch. That time, I swam in a demonic sea where my friend was not the Albatross, but the devils that love the smell of blood and take no time to devour a helpless soul. I felt the adrenaline rush despite of the salty splashes burning my eyes. A wavy, image of Arati Saha, the first Asian woman to swim across the English Channel motivated my fearful mind. I tried and drowned myself while the innocence acted as the devil, but I am still alive.
Yes, I vow to remain alive by staying connected to others. That’s why I write at leisure. Ups and downs are the real faces of the life. Any situation should be embraced with hearty smiles.
Sales on bookshelves may be volatile, but the passion for writing should have immortal dominance for staying informed and offering pleasure.
To conclude this story, let me recite an excerpt from a poem titled ‘What’s Your Purpose?’ contained in the book Poetic Respite.
“Rain or drought,
Sun boils or chilling cold;
Should not deter your mission!
A heart blossomed in empathy;
Should address the sympathy!
This is how we can build a happy world.
The door is open for everyone to act”
