Yes, I accept that I was afraid of being mocked at in my early days for thinking to be a writer. I was even more afraid about bringing out my written material anywhere except my family members. Then, I used to try making judgments about my material – “Oh! It’s stupid”, “This is not the way”, “Better I should try something else”. And this ‘something else’ complemented by other family factors took me far away from the shore where I had to be. So far that I might never be able return.
I kept moving the on the other path. But I could see the shore, always, however much I was trying not to look at it, I remained a failure on every trial there. The shore never got out of my sight – even from the midst of the stormy ocean of life – I could see it everyday. Still, I was trying to calm it down saying, “Wait, it’s not the correct time. Have patience.” “How much patience??” the other part of mind would say. And I was living a ‘miserable life’. It was as if I was trying to settle myself somewhere I had never thought to – at a place not for me. One choice leading to another – and all wrong ones! Weren’t they? Nops! I shouldn’t call them that way. Or maybe……whatever!
Well, then it was a vague road with nobody around. And I was damn confused – a lonely walk or a mobbed one. Mobbed for it had everyone – friends, family and all. I felt being secure walking through it. Start was absolutely great for all, though not for me. Applause, applause and applause – from everyone! I too tried to feel it, and yes, as I can recall, I did feel it, though not from the core of my heart.
However, the feeling couldn’t survive for long and it was a very tough walk, though crowded with people. All the way, many different choices were made but I couldn’t feel good with any. And at last, I decided! I decided that I have to return to my shore. Whatever is said and whoever says it, I have to return. I have to be there where ‘I’ want to be. Not where others want me to be. And never look back towards those shores where I don’t want to go.
“The world is doing its work, what it likes. Will it ever do something that I tell it? No. Then why should I listen to the world.” Hah! They say that I’m afraid. Let them!
It’s ok. I am. I am afraid. I am dead. But I’ll keep walking!