Writing my heart and soul out

After many years, I've finally started a blog. My 1^st post got 38 views, although there weren't any comments. L But on the bright side, it feels good to write something and share it. I'm going to have to publicize about it in facebook to attract more readers. And I have to update more posts. Being new to this blog thing, I have no idea how to proceed with the settings. So I'm just content with posting new blogs.

Its always been my dream to write. Ever since I laid my hands on a book as a kid, I wanted to write. Over the years, the subject matter of my story changed. Being heavily influenced by Enid Blyton, I was all set to write a mystery tale. Even the names of the characters sounded similar to those in Blyton's Famous Five and Secret Seven. But I lost interest in it. I wrote some three to four chapters but my story led to nowhere. But this thing to publish my own book has always been in my head. Then came a book called Harry Potter. The book entertains an equal number of critics along with fans, and I was one of the diehard fans. Those books were a gateway to a different world; this explosion of magic, fantasy, brooms, Quidditch and what not just left me so filled and with a desire for more. A need to retire this world and get lost into the fantastic world with Harry, Ron and Hermione was all that I wanted. If I am to say that I secretly nurtured a belief that such a world actually existed, then I would not be lying. So this book inspired me again to write something similar to it. But fantasy was clearly not my cup of tea. I don't have that storehouse of imagination in me to weave entire story out of unworldly circumstances. And by that time, I was grown up enough to realize the fact that every author has his/her own style, and merely copying the way they write was not enough. So I began writing, trying to search my own style. Meanwhile, the standard of my books also changed with my age. I began reading other books, or rather grown up books! My writing style also changed. I was not merely copying the way my favorite authors wrote, but was also learning to develop my style. I was also getting interested in poetry. Like any other silly person, I had a huge disregard for the poetic greats like Wordsworth and Shakespeare! According to me, they wrote in a language that was way too simple and had no "inner" meaning in their poetry. Poetry to me was something that was shrouded in mystery. The more complex the lines, the better the poem for me! With these stupid notions filled in my head, I found myself writing a poem one day. I think it was called Ode To Love. It was a first and an amateur attempt to write something of my own. It was about the twisted way the mind works when it is in love. My sister was my first critic. Her comment "At least this makes more sense than 'this is a pen/it is blue in color'" (which was by the way, a poem I wrote when I was a kid) was very encouraging to me. After that I have not looked back. I finally found my own style, it was poetry. Its short, its beautiful, and best of all, it encompasses a wide range of meanings within a few small lines. I don't say that my poems are great, but whatever I write, no matter how rubbish they are, they satisfy me. A sense of completeness fills me up whenever I finish writing a poem. Often I've been told that my poems are repetitive, they sound similar and they cant be understood, but honestly, I don't mind. My mind has its twisted ways to compromise. My poems sounding similar meant that I have found my own style, and they being incomprehensible meant that my poems were shrouded in mystery! If I wrote about my heart's deepest anguish, then I was confident of the fact that my words veiled them well so that they were beyond the common reader's understanding. But obviously, that's not how it works. My search for my own style, my own identity has not stopped yet. I still write poems, obviously more frequently than articles like this, and my latest objective is to change the monotony in my poems, to be more versatile. I just don't want to be constricted within the boundaries of my emotions poured out in my poems. Being an English major student, I came to terms with another poetic great called T.S. Eliot who said, "Poetry is not just the subjective flow of emotions on paper." With this new objective of being "objective" in my poetry, I continue my search of finding my own style, my own identity through my writings.