The most private fears of a writer

It is just that life takes you; takes on you at times that you feel washed down, flushed out and left drowned in the dumps. When you’re the seeker, a go-getter in life, all it needs is the right kind of righteous re-assurance to reclaim life. And the most beautiful thing about it is its availability, right next to you. Only if you’re willing enough to open up and let things get into you.

Shobhaa De says, in her book Speed Post, “God must be a mother.” And I believe that every writer is a mother, yup in a way, every writer has to be feminine enough in thought and feeling to actually explore certain aspects of life. Just a very few take the risk. And when you take that, you would know what I mean. It is not that you have to be a mother or go through motherhood biologically; Motherhood is something that is more to emotions, psyche and persona of someone than the mere biological phenomenon. What makes this 22 year old speak those words? Well there is many times in life that a few people have made me feel both motherly and manly, when I had been there for them, when they have most needed someone at their side. The writer in me greatly believes in the choice. I believe I have a choice and so I have. And choice is something that is more eternal and ethereal which makes this writer write what he is ought to write.

This is something that I had been known for all through my life, what can life be without this C factor? There is a connection between the C factor and the universal conspiracy. Well, this is more of an arrived at connection, it need not be true. I held this belief for a greater part of my life and grew up believing my belief that nobody is a single entity in this universe. No single soul is alone, but every soul is an orphan. What I am today, am because of those thousand plus people I had seen, met, interacted with, grew up with, began to love, smiled with, and laughed with, cried at/for/with.

There is this C in me which makes me wonder what the other person would be doing at this time of the day. As mentioned earlier, I am a single soul with the reflections that are of a thousand others. In a way, I am made of the thousand them. This is the thing that helps me with going and growing; to live, to love and to write. Never had my single day passed out without thinking did she eat any thing? Oh!!! She is growing old and I need to spend more time with her? No idea where he is, Is he back? I didn’t still hear from him, Is he safe? Would he be still working? Will he also like coffee like me or is she totally a tea person? Did chechi had a good day or the kids trouble her again? Did ma’m start writing again? Is he still thin/Has he grown a bit plump? Did he booze? Will we have that promised trip? Will he come down to meet me? Will I write again? Does she actually shampoo up her hair or just get it washed in the nearby saloon hair? Will uncle ever start his day without his early morning session of paper-reading?

Well I can be as nosy as I can be with my Curiosity factor. But take the word, nothing in life is as wonderful as to open up and reach out to people, letting in people, getting to know them and to grow up with them. Yeah I’m this hope-less romantic in life, when it comes to people, place, books, music and movies, there is something certainly magical about them. The myriad moods of life, gets magnified magnanimously by this magical thread, love; which weaves people together to create the warmth that only the cloak called friends and family can give. Growing up can be fun, when it happens with the most positive people. And as a writer’s wish, this is the most humble of an attempt to actually record his chronicles of the most beautiful people he met in his life.

In a way, writing is a longing too. A longing for love, the love, which world failed to shower on its fellow beings to ease their growing up pains. I write willing to love for I knew that I was born to write, when I started writing letters, and also then was also the other realization that I am born to love. Can anything be more romantic and loving than hand-written letters? It is quite difficult to understand the wonderfulness and warmth, a letter can convey unless one had been either a writer or a receiver? I believe that I had written many letters and in the recent times, I had been writing less and less of letters. As mentioned earlier in one of the posts, “I evolved from the boy of letters to the man of letters.” Letters form the most integral part of a writer’s life. One thing that I most wanted myself to be made sure that I do, before I take leave is write one last letter to the people I met in my life. And I have taken genuine efforts to actually write, that I almost write everything about the persons that comes to my mind, I do keep an archive of what people have spoken to me, words, shared thoughts, notes, greetings, mails and texts. And so, next time, don’t be surprised if you find anything that can be so uniquely you.

For I believe, nothing is original, everything is a kaleidoscope of reflections and inspirations. The writer in me usually looks out for characters, stories and mannerisms in everyone. I know it can be so annoying the way I ask questions sometimes, but this is all a greater part of growing up as a writer with people. It is not just my story, and it will be never my story. It is a series of intersecting events in different lives that is told in my perspective, tone and voice. I modulate the aspects of writing, which mostly appeals to the reader and I never ever dare to manipulate, for I’m not here to create sensationalism, pass on judgments or make a list of To Dos and Don’ts or to issue commandments on the art of living. As a writer, I just investigate the in-sights.

As JB ma’m puts it, “Words are powerful monsters. They either make or mar. They can heal as well as hurt.” It depends on the writer, how he employs the apt use of choice of words. As a writer I made this promise that I will give up writing when my words have consciously hurt a soul. I write to heal. I write to reach out, open up, and let people open up. Well I was also this person, who so badly wanted to see his words in print. And now I realized, “But the noblest duty of words than going to print is, did it touch a person? Did it inspire/influence a soul? Did it make a difference in a life? Did it make someone relate with the author in thought and did it help a reader identify the friend in the author?” If the writing has done any one of the above, it need not be bothered about the form of its existence. For it has reached its reader.

A writer has to be a reader by him/her self. And so is this writer. Reading makes a human. I would not go to the extent of telling that, people who don’t read, don’t know life. But certainly they would be the ones who read people, if not books. I had been the most addicts of people, followed by books; there is this greater force that is involved in bringing some books to certain people and also in turn, bringing some people in someone’s life. The best books are the ones that tell the known and the obvious that has been conveniently ignored and forgotten for the lesser good. Like people, books are the next magical things in life and only a few can appreciate both for the right reasons. And as a writer I’m conscious of my call of the wild that, I am not born for one corner of the earth. A writer has to be universal; a writer never takes up one single identity, which would narrow down his perspectives on life. Identity is imposed, and a writer has to obviously boycott anything that is imposed. I don’t take labels when I write, so I don’t give them in return. An insult pocketed, produces another. I don’t pocket them.

A writer has a life, another normal life than the writerly one. One life in the world, which the writer, greatly believes and the world that he or she, painstakingly constructed. I chose to live in both my worlds. I see the difference. Here life has become something that has to be tackled than something that needed to be lived. Life at times, needs to be taken by the horns, at times; it warrants a quite flow with the rhythm. The reassurance that writing provides to life is a soothing feel, which wipes out the certainty of life and makes a voyage to the core of uncertainties. Uncertainty provides a reason to look forward in this life and a constant remainder that I have a life to live and a few people to meet and grow up with them in love. The other, writerly life warrants a constant contemplation of thoughts and words, which fuels the need for total acceptance of people and not the mere act of ritual toleration. It denies anything that is in-human, it fights for the inclusive space; it helps me to run a crusade against anything that is not love. I consciously know my need to live and understand the nuances of functioning of both the worlds. It gives me greater perspectives and a broader outlook which ensures the graceful life of my passion and the desire to be an active onlooker, which is the womb that gave the painful birth to this writer.

addthis_pub = ‘barathwillbe’;



  1. workhard

    Hi, this is a very nice post. I specially like the part where you mentioned if your writing has inspired or influenced someone in a positive way. That is very important.< HREF="" REL="nofollow"> Haiku Poems <>


  2. Fantasies of a Lifetime

    hi 🙂 . . . Lovely post , loved the way you brought out all those fleeting thoughts of emotions in all of us , I am always left speechless when I think of invention of “words” , what would we do without them . . .and I always felt every person is a writer, some pen it down , some dont 🙂


  3. Bedazzled

    hey thats a really thoughtful post many of us have the time to think about what the other person is upto ? you r a sweet lil boy .. don’t change , ever!! .. once u start writing , there is no turning back .. you start seeing characters and stories in people around you..and the thing about being a mother to u r writing .. it true .. you tend to treat what u write as if it were a baby !! liked u r post !!


  4. Devika

    A very cognizant write-up, Bharath…Writers — the real professional writers — are really candles lit on both sides…In the sense they have their private life and its demands, and public role they assume as a writer, intent on enlightening the readers…Not-so coginizant ones — readers and writers — mix up the two…and get wrong readings, which only confuses them…that too unnecessarily…it’s natural for not-so-avid readers to mess up with writers’ private life…those exposed to the world authors should never be so..yet, they are people who do…A writer stands and ought to stand the core values that he/she holds matter what the world expects of him…It all gets upset when he/she starts writing what the world expects from him/her…may be for popularity, at times for money…one can’t blame them, thoughYou brought up certain very pertinent points wrt a writer’s life..good work, Bharath 🙂wishes, devika


  5. Jeevan

    Barath u wrote everything wonderful bro. I learn a lot about writing and life from this post… and it reminded me some moments I come across varies thoughts and people I met in life. If anyone write is a writer, may be I am a writer too. 😉“I am a single soul with the reflections that are of a thousand others” so true. What we read and learn in life is something belongs to our fellow being and thoughts are never happen itself, it’s created by some influence and inspiration. I realized in life that reading bring a writer, which was so true in my life. I wonder really is all fictions happens or created unrealistic, to writers to write in a series!


  6. The Seeker

    @Jeevan,Everyone is a writer… and glad that you could relate well with the post…@devika,Hello ma’m.. Most welcome here!!! Thanks for the comments, that was something that had been a haunting in me for a while to put it in thought…And also had been reading your poems regularly.. I like the subtlety in them… And glad that there is someone who feels exactly the way I’m. I can see how I will be in some time from now…@MirrorcrackedThanks Nikhy boyy@Nishanth..yeah bro!!! There’s more to writing than merely being influential/inspiring.. A lighter vein writing does a lot than the inspiring ones, a laugh has to be whacky and subtle unlike the other writings. and in that You rule the kingdom bro!!!Ultimately every writing has a purpose…


  7. The Seeker

    @ Writers block,yeah Pallavi akka, thanks for those wonderful words…@Work-hardHello! most welcome here! thanks for your wonderful words of encouragement@BedazzledThanks Bhargavi akka, that was so sweet of you… yeah I had been eternally that way, don think I can change in the near life time to come…@ Fantasies of life timeYeah vishnu, even i give thought abt words and so many things. I agree with you, everyone is a writer


  8. Nutty Martian

    hey awesome post bro. I loved it when u said writers are like a mother… and also “A writer has a life, another normal life than the writerly one.”very true…Mars beckons ya;)


  9. mohit

    wow. well written.I’m truly glad to see you not just write, but feel what you write.In a way, I’m also satiated, at knowing that others too write simply for the love of it. I guess we’re birds of a feather that way 🙂There’s a lot of things that I relate to in the post, if only with a few personalised modifications. Although the C factor isn’t really my reason, but I do believe that people who can look in deep enough to know what they want to write about are bound to be effeminate..NO, not in character or appearance, but in the nature of their caring.To see your words in print is actually a form of greed, that I think all writers have. Blogging probably became popular cuz of the same reason…for people like me n you, who cudn’t exactly get a book published by penguin 😛I admit, that for a while, initially, I too was amazed at seeing my witing and my name in print…but that was the time when I used to call friends and tell them to read my post…hahaha, thankfully, I don’t do that now, cuz I realised how writing makes me happy by itself, not some uninterested people appreciating my work superficially. Plus, there’s these love-writing-love-reading people here online who read my posts at times, n who’s blogs I read… an online friend circle, as they say!cheers.


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