Unexpected Beginnings


It was just in the last post that I was wailing (yes I was) about how my writing never came to be recognised or published, how I never had the element to win any competitions and how my entire life has been nothing but a lost battle.

Surprisingly, this post is going to recount my first winning experience. Yes! Hard to believe? I know, I had the hardest time believing it but that one mail in my inbox made me believe in my potentials in an exponential manner. The last short story I wrote for Author’s Ink Publication in India pertaining to a competition they held, got selected among 15 other handpicked short stories on the genre – Love/ Relationships. And, and, and, finally after twenty-three years of my life, I am going to get published in that box of an alternate reality called a Book.

Ah! Life you know. Setbacks and failures maybe a part of life but the glint of one small achievement has the power to surpass all their gloom. This little ray of hope has definitely brought me closer to my long-term dream of publishing a novel. Though my first draft is ready (in longhand of course) and I’m almost through with the typing and editing, I was reluctant to hit the send button to any publisher, but this short story – The Yellow Envelope (which I had to remove from this blog because of publishing and copyright issues) brought a certain kind of affirmation to my first writing venture. I think sanctification would express my sentiment better because after all writing is as religious a process for any writer who writes with their heart and not the pen.

Through with all inhibitions, I am in the mood to produce truckloads of manuscripts every six months and make a carved out niche for myself in the future. Money is hard to expect from a profession like writing, of course except that you are the next J.K. Rowling. But yes, I do look forward to a sense of satisfaction in my writing, especially the kind of satisfaction that is sure to bring a tear to my eyes every time I sit reading my work. And don’t bother about why I don’t want a smile on my face rather than a tear around the corners of my eyes, Tragedy is any day my favourite colour and Burke my favourite philosopher. So when he said that pain is the only sublime, you must have high order intellectual abilities to understand the transcendental nature of pain and why he said that. I know, I know I’m digressing but then what is the point in writing happy endings when they’re so hard to achieve in real life?

To end with today’s post, I just wanted to share my happiness with the readers and maybe hint at the possibility of a slight ray of hope in times of darkness and conflict. Do I contradict my own thoughts?

Ah! my mind is a mess of thoughts that make no sense.
Sign out.



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