Why do I want to continue writing??!!

Well, very small mundane facts define me. I continue writing with the intention of adding a bit bigger facts to define me. I write not with the intention to outwit others’ claim to similar bit more bigger facts. Self justification is one of the easiest things coming to our nature. We justify even the worst of our deeds. I write to justify the inherent tendency in me to survive as a professional writer. Not that I cannot do something else to earn my bread and butter. I definitely can! And I am doing in fact! But you know there is a piously whispering cooing of the real self that eggs me on to still keep on trying to give my writing a platform.

Coming from that part of the north Indian countryside, where literature will be the last thing on anybody’s mind, where agriculture is culture itself, I am the black sheep that is trying to get out of the herd to make this most unlikely career for anybody coming from Jat land or synonymously buffalo land. Well on the down slope of youth, more than once I have abandoned the dream of full time writing. Many a time I have realized my limitations as a writer. Still many more times I have felt myself a victim of the forces beyond my control. Today when I get up again to try again to get a slippery foothold I can very well hear the anticipating whispering of the inherent voice again.

I fought for the most prestigious civil services positions in India. Fought decently well as well, given my own limitations and more importantly the literary limitations of the socio-cultural unit I come from. The more I worked harder, the more distant became the goals. I saw the worst of politico-bureaucratic-judicial game. When I finally fell my inner voice told me, it is more on account of the system’s failure than my own. So I have my sips of justice in the form of the inner thumbs-up by my soul.

Every time I fell, deeper were the analytical impressions on the neurons of my brain; graver were the bruises on heart. If nothing more, it gave me the mood and inclination to write. Still I am fighting for my take away. My reward! I do not want it at the cost of somebody more deserving. I am not into comparison. We can compare just simple tangibles. How can we compare life’s thousand catapults that all of us get uniquely, single handedly!

I am not taking writing in life as a competition, but as a fate’s lottery pot, wherein somebody will walk out with a smile. Having full faith in the fates’ evaluation, if I build a platform to support my writing, I would also prefer to walk away with a broad smile!

Wishing myself and others best of luck!