Why I Write...

Everyone here, we all have our haven, a place that we go to when we want to escape reality. Whatever it is that we are running away from - be it a failed relationship or frustrations at work - at the end of the day, to get away from it all, we seek a refuge. This refuge comes in many forms. Some seek shelter in the shoulders of a friend, some seek to be soothed by music, yet others find solace in books. Whatever form it takes, they provide security from life's inconsistencies. Now I too have such a refuge. And my refuge is my hobby - writing. Writing has always been my consolation when things go wrong. It has sheltered me from disappointment, shielded me against hurt.

And this is how.

See as a kid I was shy. It was not easy for me to walk up to people and make myself be heard so instead I would simply sit in a corner and dive into a word of dreams, of illusions where imagination reigned supreme and rules of reality held no ground. But the truth was I lacked friends and I was lonely. To overcome this loneliness, I had several imaginary friends, from Boomer my fictional brother to blossom our extroverted cousin. But I reached a point in my childhood where the unreality did not suffice anymore. They were limited within the horizon of my mind but I wanted them to stretch further, to encroach on the realms of reality. But how do you make something unreal, seem real. This seemed impossible till I came across books. When I first read books, I realized that books were the bridge between the real and the unreal. And I came to understand the sorcery of words. One’s thoughts became tangible through words. And so I began to write. I wrote elaborate descriptions and stories of my imaginary friends and shared them with my family. And as my family read these stories, even if it was but for a few short moments, my imaginary friends existed in the minds of others as they did in mine. And that is how writing helped me cope with my loneliness.

During my teenage days, I was going through a very chaotic phase in my life. I became unruly and many times I had felt the need to simply escape my skin, to shed my identity and just not be myself anymore. And it was during a random moment of such overwhelming emotion that I found "The Percy Jackson Series". Now for those of you who haven't read the Percy Jackson books, it is similar to the Harry Potter series. The central character is a young boy - Percy Jackson – who is half-human and half-God - like Hercules. He fights against reincarnated Greek monsters like the Minotaur, Medusa, and etc. This book isn't very good. But the moment I started reading the book, reality began to crumble and in its place, ancient Greece stood resurrected. I became Percy Jackson, his world became mine, his problems became my problems, and his happiness became my happiness. And in the process of being one with the character, I found my escape. I began to forget myself. And for those few glorious moments ‘Vijee’ ceased to exist. Reading a book is a lot like Halloween. You dress up as someone else and pretend you are them. And it was during these times of self effacement, that I re-discovered words. I learnt that each word was like a spell, it could transport me to a different world, or simply inspire within me the sentiments of the characters it was portraying. I understood that my life was also a story, and so I began to write it down. And when I started writing, I wrote of my frustrations, my resentments. And unconsciously I was purging (cleansing) myself of all the bitterness built up inside of me. And so whether it was an escape or a confrontation, words lend me the means to deal with my emotions.

Later as I became an adult, life began to turn a dull turn. As a restless person by nature, having a 9-5 job, in an IT industry didn't really suit me. As a kid I always fantasized that life would be a grand adventure. But I was sorely disappointed. So I did the only thing that came to mind. I read books on adventure and I began to live vicariously through my books. But what of the adventures I wanted to experience but hadn’t been written yet? Well, I decided I would write them myself. I dabbled in sorcery once again. Like a spider, I spun a web of words and found myself caught in my own creations. Every missed opportunity, every bitter disappointment and every dull moment was embellished and turned into a story. And a hobby turned into a passion. And my life ceased to be boring.

And now that I look back, I realize that words have always been my haven, my refuge at every phase and every turn of life. Be it loneliness, be it depression, be it boredom, I have tackled each problem by turning to reading and then eventually writing. And hence writing, I feel has become an integral part of me. In fact, I believe it has become the definition of who I am.

We all have our refuge, a place you can turn to, if only for a few short moments, to laugh and relax and slip away from the frustrations at work. So people, you may not always have solutions to your problems, you may not always look forward to tomorrow, but whatever your troubles be, feel safe in knowing that you always have your refuge to escape to.