As you grow older life starts to get to you. There is a new challenge waiting for you at every corner. You decide to deal with it one after the other. But they all come up together, screaming for your immediate attention. You feel so torn apart, you do not know what to take on first. One day you were the master of your life, the next day you wake up stuck in a maze of complexities.
You are like a rat who’s leg is tied to an end of a thread. You run in every direction to get rid of the thread, only to create a web and trap yourself in it. Now not only do you have so many problems to deal with, you also have your life to save from life itself. So the question still remains. What should I do and how.
You shared your frustration with your friends. You have talked nineteen-to-the-dozen about your every problem, yet solutions you have none. You turn to someone older and wiser. You assume they ought to have answers, For they claim to have swam the oceans where you are now learning to swim. You rely on the experience of the other to get you out of your problems, only to discover your problem is as unique as you are.
You are now not only fighting your problems and striving for your life, you are also running low on hope.
Suddenly your friends decide to test your loyalty by asking you to take the same leap of faith into their problems as they did for you. You listen and listen and listen until you realize that their problems are slowly turning into your own. And there sits in front of you yet another challenge. Adding few more beads to your chain of obstacles. A favor taken has to be returned, so you make up your mind not to be in any one’s debt. Now you are alone on this endless expedition. The heap of complications growing bigger and wider.
God have his mercy on you if you ever loved and lost. If harsh are the teachings of life, wretched are the ways of love. She comes like the breeze and leaves you with the impact of a storm. You would be left picking put after the remains of your shattered soul.
In devastating days like these, you remember those days your mother spent praying and praising the Lord. You take a call on God, feeling like you have finally found your savior. For all you know, you might actually have. But as the old saying goes – nothing comes without a price. He tests you even further to make sure your faith is no phony.
With the fire of faith burning dim in your heart you drag yourself further. You are now alone, yet not entirely, for you have the ghosts of your past haunting you. You brood over your past, suffocating your present and send your future straight into the verge of extinction.
So there you are standing in front of a huge hill of mess that you specially designed for yourself.
Your frustration levels reaching new heights, with no one to talk to and no one to share, you turn to doing something which you earlier never dared.
You set up a date, decide the venue and finally wed the pen to a paper. This was a marriage that was to happen sooner or later. You find yourself new friends who only listen, not judging you in anyway. They are at your service whenever you call upon them. They become the keepers of your thoughts: good, bad or ugly. This was a match made in heaven – paper and pen – giving birth to a diary that holds every detail, every secret of your life.
On goes this love affair. You write and write till you feel light. You don’t have to be a writer, nor any need for slick word play. Your vocabulary and grammar has no one to judge. You can be your stupid self and make all the mistakes you want, as long as you’re wring everything that’s locked up inside. The problems that were once clogging your mind have now been written and the ownership being passed on.
You talk to your diary, telling her everything big and small. You write all the sad bits to get them out of your mind, and write all the happy moments so you could have them recalled whenever you wanted.
The impact of love and life makes you philosophical. So you write about them both in poems and prose. You write and write till you realize your work is becoming a piece of art. You decide to share your work with a few friends. Their response excites you, a tempting invitation for a venture into the world of words.
This time pen meets paper with reasons anew, you write to impress, not to rid yourself of your distress. You ended up writing many and discarded almost all. Even though you found a million topics, your mind froze at the period of the very beginning.
You do a lot of soul searching and brain storming. You think sad, you think happy, you feel your good with humor but your story starts to get depressing. As love stricken as you are, you think romance it should be. But in the end to find yourself writing something like this!