Storizen Magazine - - Indulge -

Had I not felt vul­ner­a­ble and lonely, I prob­a­bly would have never started writ­ing. While I med­i­tated a lotto calm down my

soul, I met my­self.

I don’t know where to start and what to write. Be­com­ing an au­thor was never planned or pur­sued. It just hap­pened. I have done MCA and also have worked in HCL, Noida. Way back to school and col­lege, I was a com­merce stu­dent and had tried CA twice, but failed.

Af­ter re­al­iz­ing and con­vinc­ing my fam­ily too that CA isn’t my cup of tea, I fi­nally dropped the idea of do­ing it. I could have tried once again had the govern­ment ac­cepted the pro­posal of re­mov­ing math­e­mat­ics from my en­tire life.

I re­mem­ber I wrote my first poem in Xth Std. It was an

English poem on pos­i­tiv­ity ti­tled, A ray of hope. It was ap­pre­ci­ated a lot by friends and fam­ily, it boosted up my moral.

I kept scrib­bling few words in rough copies but never shared much with fam­ily un­til I made a proper diary a few years later. The first page of it had an ex­ten­sion of my name that I did my my­self to feel dif­fer­ent about my­self, to feel good and I still re­mem­ber it!

I started main­tain­ing the diary prop­erly with dates and ti­tles and wrote, rhymed any­thing that touched my heart, be it pain or hap­pi­ness. I had stuck a few pic­tures even in it re­lat­ing to the writeup. Sadly, I don’t have it any­more, Ra­jat flew air­planes out of its pages.

Scrib­bling here and then fair­ing out everything in dairy con­tin­ued to­gether with stud­ies.

But with in­creas­ing pres­sure of stud­ies,

writ­ing took a back step. The table soon got loaded with project files, papers, notes and the bud­ding writer in me failed to ob­serve life and its hap­pen­ings around.

Af­ter com­plet­ing MCA when I was plan­ning to do a job in some MNC, I got mar­ried and I know my ca­pa­bil­i­ties.

Life is never easy. When you are plan­ning your best, it shows you some­thing else.

Be­fore any­one could even ask about man­ag­ing both job and home, I my­self made clear about not look­ing for work any­more. I knew I won’t be able to han­dle the idea of work­ing in an MNC took its last breath in my mind and I was happy.No re­grets.

Af­ter a break up with writ­ing for a few years, we be­came just friends again :P Stay­ing back home all alone, com­pelled me to re­sumed writ­ing. I again started pen­ning down po­ems, both in English and Hindi.

It was that time when Face­book en­tered our lives.

I started post­ing my po­ems and to my sur­prise, they were like by a huge num­ber of peo­ple. I was thrilled. It was like a yummy ic­ing on some taste­less cake. My po­ems were the ic­ing and the taste­less cake, be­ing my life then. Yes, it was dreary. Be­ing in a nu­clear fam­ily and stay­ing alone at home all day. It was tough. But that was also my time, my alone time. I read and wrote a lot

and posted a lot more. Ini­tially, I posted even short sto­ries on the wall when some­one told me about a thing called blog.

I then made blogs for dif­fer­ent kinds of writ­ings.witll talk fur­ther later but first, let m say sorry to the read­ers/mu­tual friends for tor­tur­ing them with re­ally long pots of up to 1000 words on the wall.

Com­ing back to where I left, I have four blogs now on po­etry, short sto­ries, ar­ti­cles, and scripts.none of them are up­dated till date as most of the ma­te­rial is in print. I have 3 books in my name till yet. I hope you know me a bit :P The po­etry I write is purely based on ob­ser­va­tions and to some ex­tent life ex­pe­ri­ences. If you read Rubroo (Hindi po­etry col­lec­tion), you will def­i­nitely re­late to it. It is based on ev­ery­one's life. A very com­mon and re­lat­able base each poem has.

Had I not felt vul­ner­a­ble and lonely, I prob­a­bly would have never started writ­ing.

While I med­i­tated a lot to calm down my soul, I met my­self.

Whereas, the English love sto­ries are pure fiction. Once a friend sug­gested reading the then na­tional best­seller and af­ter reading that I re­al­ized I too can to write such daily life stuff. The love sto­ry­book ( That’s a heart han­dle with care) is the out­come of it =D

Get­ting your work pub­lished is a tough task. You have to send manuscripts to a lot of pub­lish­ers, wait for re­sponses and get re­jected most of the

time. I too have faced all such but now ta­bles have turned.

I don’t have to run af­ter peo­ple, in­stead, they come to me and wait for my re­sponse. That’s how good writ­ing gives you name and fame.

Any jour­ney is in­com­plete with­out a help­ing hand. Many peo­ple helped me too in tak­ing to the place where I stand. Ini­tially, I didn’t even know the dif­fer­ence be­tween an ar­ti­cle and a short story! What did they mean by man­u­script!

What num­ber of word count is good to read, the mean­ing of kin­dle, how are cov­ers de­signed, what do we mean by self and tra­di­tional pub­lish­ing and a lot more? My very first work that got pub­lished was a paid one, for an an­thol­ogy by a known pub­lisher.

You know how des­per­ate we all are to get pub­lished and earn the name. But that was the first and the last time that I paid. It was rs 2000 for a sin­gle poem in a book!

Now you can ask me any­thing about this in­dus­try.

I am not a renowned writer but a small ad­vice to the young­sters and the new ones.

Don’t run af­ter fill­ing pages and get­ting pub­lished. Un­less your writ­ing touch hearts, it is worth­less.

If you write pain, your reader should cry and if you write hu­mor, he must def­i­nitely laugh.

(As told by the au­thor)

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