At the age of six, my favourite English teacher gave me an essay titled ‘My Pet’ to write about. The six year old in me tried her very best to form sentences and impress her. Turns out, my essay had more words and less linking words. It probably didn’t make any sense. But, I was happy.
At the age of nine, my school took us to a movie, ‘The Goblet of Fire.’ That was my first exposure to the world of wizards. I was amazed to say the least, I yearned for more muggles and Hogwarts. I had found my idol, J.K Rowling. This time the J.K Rowling in me inspired me to write short stories.
By the time I was ten, I dreamt of becoming a writer, living in a far off land. Sitting in a couch, sipping my hot chocolate, thinking about the plot for my record breaking novel.
I was eleven by then, I was beginning to form average stories with decent grammar. I knew I was happy.
At the age of twelve, my parents and I shifted to another state. Obviously, I wasn’t the social butterfly of my class. So I began writing in my little journal named Ms.Journal. (Oh, come on, I found the name interesting. We name things in our childhood that we aren’t really proud of now.) I wrote to avoid feeling left out, but found my first friend there.
Time passed by..
I was fifteen, a teenager. I was turning semi-rebellious as per my parents. I began noticing how the society works- Hypocrites. My opinions weren’t heard. And so I wrote. I then began writing about trivial things. I was satisfied and happy.
Fast forward two years. Seventeen years old, 3 months away from the life changing entrance exams. This time I wrote to vent out. To let off the steam from my system.
The dream of being a writer seemed over rated. But writing still made me happy.
I am nineteen now, I’ve had hobbies like singing, drawing and gaming (even sleeping.) But the writing part has stuck with me for a long time. We are pretty tight now. 😉
I may not have a best selling novel, heck, I may not even write a book in this lifetime. But the writer in me shall always remain alive for the thoughts are too over bearing to not let them out.
Why do I write?
I write because..
It makes me feel happy.