How it started:
I was fond of reading and writing since my school days. I used to write poems and stories with my own little thoughts and imaginations. I remember the day when this habit of mine started. One day my sister handed me a book “Meet Yourself” written by Orison Swett Marden, an inspirational American author. She insisted me to read it and convinced me that I would love it for sure. I was resistant initially and told that I already have so many school books, why one more. Still I kept the book with me and one day I got chance to open it and read. I closed it only after I finished reading it completely.
I really liked it and for many days the thoughts and incidents shared in the book were revolving around my mind and finally I started habit of writing down my random imaginations. I also requested my sister to bring few more books; she got a few more which we thoroughly read in little time. Being a literature student she had a lot of books as part of her syllabus which included Shakespeare, George Bernard Shaw and more. Though I was a reader of beginner category, still I managed to read those books which were above my standards. I just read them out of curiosity figuring out my own perceptions and meanings. Gradually my interest towards reading grew.
My parents, my biggest strengths are simple people with traditional thinking. I enjoyed my reading and writing and I was in my own invented world. However, it didn’t excite my parents as they wanted me to focus more on academics and less on my hobbies. I don't blame their thoughts as parents have their own concerns and care.
At that young age, I continued with my hobbies though my imaginations were not strong and even words were not so powerful. I kept my habit of story writing as a secret and even my close friends didn’t have any clue about it.
A phone call that changed my life:
I got a phone call from my classmate with shocking news. She told our close school friend died in a road accident. At that moment, I could not react with that jolt. I cried and cried, at that age when we were learning meaning of life; I had learnt the truth of death. I was shuddered, no words to express, what and how to react. I couldn’t sleep that night thinking about the incident, next morning I was quiet, no reactions and only mourn.
After a week I gathered some courage and visited his family. Still I had no clue what to say, how to console and behave in front of them. Further to the incident I was a different human. I spoke to limited people and only things which were necessary and tried to focus on studies and upcoming exams.
I saw a different world, at one end I was petrified with this incident, and on the other end everything was normal. His friends, classmates even his girlfriend were normal and no one did discussion about him. It seemed that no one misses him. I wanted to talk about him with people, I wanted to tell everyone about my feelings, he was my partner in Hindi lectures and now I sit alone. I used to bunk my math classes with him. I was crushed within, shattered completely and the loneliness was only left in my life. I picked my pen and started writing again. I wrote a real life story first time ever in my life which I have not shared with anyone till now.
Change in my Style:
I could sense some improvement in my writing skills too. As before I used to imagine and write, but now I wrote with real incidents and personal experiences. I realized that it is easy to imagine a wonder world, write about it, make films and fascinate people. Writing a real story is challenging, to explain and make people understand the pain, express the emotion is a task.
I started to observe people, their life, emotions, behavior and more.
I wrote articles for few magazines, I wrote for few NGO’s, I even created blogs multiple times but deleted because of clashes in my own thoughts.
Life is on:
I finished studies, started working, got married and have a cute baby boy. My writing has continued and the person who supported me till now is the one person with whom I tied knot with. He is the first reader of all my stories and he is the one who gives me unbiased feedback.
Another person who will always be there behind creating my own stores is my sister Sangita. I want to dedicate “My Story” to her. I have already published all my stories as a famous writer in these two hearts.