Of late I have questioned myself why do I write. I have seen a few other bloggers asking similar question. I first started writing when I was in high school, in my ninth and tenth grades. Then for long time, except writing class notes and exams and occasional letters ( yes, we used to write letters by hand) to family members, I did not write anything else. All those applications and resumes for job interviews do not count. I did not even write a single letter to the editor of the local newspapers. Oh, that other kind of letters that some of us used to write in fancy pink papers in their youth, I never had the good fortune to write any of those.
What motivated me to write after a long hiatus, I cannot exactly pin point. Most probably the urge was always there, dormant. Once I started, I am finding it difficult to stop. Technology helped. The ability to access WordPress and Evernote apps on mobile phones definitely helped. It still does not explain why do I write. Certainly it is not for fame, nor for money. I have no illusion that I am going to earn any from my writing. So why do I write?
I think writing gives me a freedom that I have not experienced before. It has given me a freedom to express myself without shouting, without disturbing others. Words and ideas that normally would have been fermenting inside now have a medium to express themselves freely. Online blogger friends that I have made are icing on the cake. If my writing makes even one person smile a day, I feel myself fortunate. What more can I ask.
So for today, on week twenty nine of my fifty two weeks journey with the letter “W”, I dedicate my poem to “Writing”. Dear readers, I hope you would be able to figure out from the poem why I write.