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From An Aspiring Writer To A Published Author
Dreaming to become a writer and finally becoming a published author are two different things. Anybody can possess the feelings, the imaginations, the desire to pour out the emotions in words. But a very few of them possess the art of expression – the art of giving words to the feelings – the imaginations – the emotions.
Quite a few people ask me more than often that how I developed this obstinacy for writing. Actually, there wasn’t a particular day or a particular moment when I thought to become a writer. It was just like a dream which you nourish and nurture without knowing actually when you became obsessed for it. It cannot be termed exaggeration if I say that writing flows in my blood.
I was in Std.6th, when my first poem got published in our school magazine. It was then, I came to know that those whose write-ups get published are called writers. It is another fact, that my English teacher had helped me to compose that poem. And he was the first person who told me that I had good imagination and also the power to express. His words gave wings to my pen. I started composing short stories and poems and often I dreamt that I had become a writer. Good olden days – the Golden Days passed and in the mean time the realities of life interrogated me a several times. It was the time I can to know that life is never as rosy as it seems. My father faced a business loss and all of us were destined to suffer. My studies had got interrupted and I did not know whether I’ll become Graduate or not. But myself being lucky enough, my parents never let me feel that mine were in the bottom of the priority list. My studies came on track very soon. But some of the disastrous moments had shattered my dreams of becoming a writer. Those hard days gave the experience to recognize people. [People often question me that why I like intense and disturbing stories!] After my Intermediate, I composed a number of stories and half dozen of my diaries got filled with horror, suspense and thriller stories.
All of us are governed by the Supreme Authority who resides up in the Heavens. By the fall of the year 2008, when I was in the second year of my Graduation, I got job in the leading bank of our country – State Bank of India. It was a new life for me. Our SBI has an intranet website which provides us a creative platform called SBI Blog to contribute our creations. No sooner had I acquainted this blog, my creations jumped out of my diaries and got posted there. I started getting comments and feedbacks from all across the country. Several of my senior colleagues appreciated me and advised to take some serious decisions regarding writing. It left a great impact on me and finally I started writing a book. Once I completed it, I sent it to my friend. She replied after three days and her words were, “This is the cruelest story ever I read”. Her statement disturbed me. I eradicated the whole tragic concept and re-wrote it as a comedy introducing a few more characters. I had somewhat got addicted to it. My schedule was 10 to 7 office and then writing from 10.00pm until eyes refuse to stay open. Till then, except a few friends of mine, nobody knew that I was writing a novel. One day, I crushed my thumb against the grills in office and came home with excessive pain and the swollen thumb. When I could not hold the pen, I burst into tears. [I can’t ever forget those moments]. And it was then, when I told my Mamma that I was writing a novel. She was surprised and so were the other members of my family since everybody knew that it is never so easy. I completed the book and named this new story – “For what you are…”. I approached first publisher. They accepted my manuscript but I did not agree to their terms and conditions. I approached second publishers. They also accepted but I was asked to add some lush scenes to the novel which I strictly refused. The cruel realities were once again interrogating me. Meanwhile, I came into contact of a famous writer. I humbly asked for his guidance. And what he replied still echoes in my ears – “Aajkal har koi khud ko writer samajhta hai. Apni aukaat bhi to maalum honi chahiye. Tum writer banne ka khwaab paale hui ho. Tumhe koi ghaas bhi daalega? Sirf likh lene se koi lekhak nahi ban jaata. Paisa aur publicity bhi chahiye.”
His penetrating words made more possessive and obstinate for my aspirations. I submitted my manuscript to Pustakmahal and within three days, I got a heartful reply. My publishers offered their first hand support to my dreams. September 2011, I was holding my dream in my hands and my eyes were flooded with tears. A dream had come true nevertheless, with the continuous help and support of my family, friends and colleagues.
My life has not changed that much. Even today, I wake up everyday to face a new challenge and suffer the day-to-day struggles. I don’t know what has been destined for my restless life, but I have learned from my personal experience that if you cry for help, you’ll find yourself all alone in the world but the moment you start helping yourself you’ll find several helping hands holding you. It really feels great when people who know me personally, admire me with a remark of “Never-say-die attitude”. Amongst all these hazardous calamities of life, writing keeps me vital and the only thing which keeps me going on is the feeling that I write and people read. I am writing my second novel which is an intense thriller and my pen will not stop until the last droplet of blood lingers in my veins….