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"Again you are scribbling..Can't you put your nose off your books and papers for sometime?" my mother snaps at me as I scribble a poem.
"Oh ma! Atleast listen to what I wrote"
"Hmm...tell"
"Ahmm ahmm" I pretend to clear my throat and My mum laughs back.
"Will you open your mouth or should I go back to kitchen?"
"Oh!No-no please!" I say quickly and grab her by elbow. Who doesn't want audience? ;)
Listen,"
Life's unpredictable,
Can't say when it would take a turn.
We can't really say,
When life might be deprived of all fun.
It's true,
What elders say,
You should know to walk alone;
No matter
Come what may.
She smiles and looks at me for some time curiously. "You write well and what you've written is indeed true."
"Hmm.."I smile back and think about the depth of what I've written.
"Hey, I'm back" yells my cousin from the stairs who's been staying with us for two days and had gone to meet other relatives who live nearby.
"Hey, How was the day? How's Pummy Masi? You two chat while I finish preparing dinner.",says my mother to my cousin and quickly returns to the kitchen.
Later after Dinner, My cousin, Ikshita lays in bed while I punch the paper in which I scribbled my poem and put it in a file. As she spots it, she asks about it and I have another audience. She says she likes it and i am truly elated. I tell her that I didn't realize the depth while writing it but when Mom heard it, she found it thoughtful.
She asks, " Why do you write, Muskan?"
Till sometimes back, I'd have gladly said that because Writing to me is something that I like. But I have a different answer to it which I have realized after continuous writing.
"To understand. To discover myself"
She looks not exactly puzzled but in a thoughtful tone, she asks,"How?"
And I tell her...
"You know what Ikshu when I write, one of three things happen."
"hmm",she nods and I continue.
"Sometimes what I write is exactly me and I know it perfectly about myself.
Sometimes what I write is me, but I am not aware of it. As in I am not aware of myself.
And Sometimes, what I write is just not me at all. By no means. Its just a projection of what I have heard, read or perhaps seen in movies. That's just not me.
I really have discovered and understood a great deal of myself through writing."
She listens patiently and I feel so light as this is something I had been longing to share with someone. "You don't write?" I ask.
"I do. But only business mails you see", she chuckles and we both laugh though deep down we both know that she does and is not comfortable sharing it. and I do not lag as it might be something personal.
We all write for different reasons, like....to share or to be aware. But at last, I guess all of us benefit from it in some way or the other. What do you say?? Why do you write??
(c)2013 Priyaa Arora
It is a fiction. I never had such conversation with mother or any cousin. But the poem is indeed mine and Muskan does say a lot for me. :) So I am labeling it both fiction and personal ;)
And ya, Do tell me what do you think?
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