A question, I never asked myself. Maybe the answer to this question lies in a very old memory, hidden deep in my mind. Something, that has to be searched for, something not easily catchable. Something important.
My rendezvous with words began with my love with books. I loved reading. Those imaginations bind in words, unleashed with each words, those sentences that took me to far away lands, into the lives of many great men and women. I saw their lives from very near in my imagination. I liked the very perspective of journeying through the imagination and living with many lives of character that took birth in author’s mind and continue to live in every readers heart. This love, that bind me to the words made me a writer. As with any passion, first you notice it, then starts to enjoy it, then love it and then you wish to create it. The ultimate of every passion is the wish to create it. And I began my humble journey with the magic of words.
Writing is not an easier task. At least to me. I often wonder how those great writers played with the words. How it was possible to bind each and every minute details of their imagination to words and then imprint it on to the pages that unleash to the readers imagination, once those words pass through their mind. A truly, genuine work of God’s unmatched gift.
I do have a imagination. I must say dreams. A vivid character filled dreams. Each dream taking me to different scenes of life, where I am a part. With each dream, a story unreels in my mind. And I am desperate to put them into words. And I do understand that it is not an easy task. The connection of words with the dreams or imagination should be authentic and genuine enough to be recreated by the reader. May be some day, I will be able to create such a bond. After it is The God who writes the script. I am just a character in his Stage.