Wednesday, 18 December 2013

Why do I write



The question is to all writers. The answer is for all writers.
Why am I writing blogs?
There are thousands, may be millions of blog writers. They are writing and writing. There is an enormous load of writing in the cyber world. Why should I add a weight to it by my presence? Here are some of my reasons for writing. These and some more may be the reason for every writer.

1.    I write because I have something to tell. Shall I add ‘something new”? Necessarily no. I do not claim that I am telling something new. But I have something to tell you. You might have heard it from someone else before or you may hear it from some others hereafter. That does not matter. I write not because you have never heard what I am going to tell or that none in the world is going to tell it to you. But because I have a thought, an argument or a suggestion to tell you. It is my thought, my feelings, my emotions, my passions, my tragedy and my success. I am no longer able to contain it in my heart. I must speak or I break. I must open up or I suffocate myself. I must shout or I die. It is life or death for me. It is my very existence. It is a remainder to me that I am alive. It is a message to my soul. Writing is speaking to me and inspiring me. So I write. I cannot live without.

2.    I write because I have no other audience. I am suffocating with my thoughts. I feel heavy with my feelings. I must tell others. But to whom? I have no audience. I have none to listen to me. You are busy, running mad after the thing called ‘life’. I like a beggar sit at a street corner pleading for a moment from you to listen to my story. People pass beyond me are sympathetic. Some hesitates and then moves fast. Some others think that I am mad, a nuisance, a fool, a thing to get rid of. I have no audience. I change place, I meet the same people with the same attitude. Is there none to listen to me? I have to ease my heart by letting it flow out. I expect no response, whether positive or negative. I want only an ear for a few moments. None has time. None have the patience. So I write hoping to find someone in the universe who may listen to my heart. I write to an unknown, unseen, uncertain audience. Still I write, I open up, my hear flows. I write to my comfort.

3.    I write because you otherwise do not listen. I understand your plight. You are busy. You are running to reach the goal. You are rushing to reach the other end. You are maddened by this little thing called ‘life’.  In fact you are an automated machine, you cannot be otherwise. This world has constructed you, formed and reformed you by love and force, by its philosophies and conventions into an automated machine. You have no time to think, no time to feel and no time to love. Who can blame you? I understand your tragic state because I too once was like you, running after a thing I have never seen, heard or felt. I ran and ran and finally understood the folly of running. I cannot tell you how it exactly happened. I do not remember when it really happened. But it happened. I understood that it is foolish to run after life; rather it is wise to live the life. There after I started to live. I know that you have not yet reached that point. So go on running until you realize the folly of running; until you realize what those beauties you miss on your way. I write because you have no time and leisure to listen to me. I write for you to read after you have stopped running. I write for you read after you have realized the folly of your mad rush. I write for you to read while you live the life.

4.    I write to console and guide you. You do not need any consolation and guidance now. You do not bother. You do not now value the petty platitude of a stranger. I understand it. I have sympathy yet I cannot do nothing but watch and wait. You have strength, money and power. You think that these are sufficient to conquer any mountain. You believe that your mad chase to conquer life is living. I know, for sure, that life cannot be conquered by anyone in this world. So I stopped the chase. Rather I chose living the life. One day, sooner or later, you too will realize your folly and will stop running. You are destined to fail in the chase. On that day you will feel defeated, frustrated and panic. I am writing all these for you to read on such a day for consolation and guidance. I write because I love you, because I do not want to see you lost in the darkness of nothingness. Life really begins after we have stopped running after it. We actually live after the chase. Then and there, I will console you. My writings will be a guide. Till then everything I have writing remain rubbish for all those who are in the chase after life.

 Professor Jacob Abraham

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