They say it’s a gift from God. To be able to adequately commit oneself to writing about anything under the sun that remotely makes sense. I agree, it’s a precious blessing but a ‘gift from God’ isn’t the monopoly of a mythic few. Thank God then for this proliferation of voices, concerns and opinions in the blogosphere and print, writing has come out of the selective accordance it has enjoyed. To write is to create, to crave for an outlet and this Lucknow Boy’s social antenna tells me I am definitely not in a tiny minority. Which brings me to my point: I write not because I can as I am of the belief we all can if we put our patience and minds to it , only separated as we are by our modes of expression and levels of conveyance, but because I have nurtured it since the time I came of age. That must be when I was 12 , the period of a breakthrough where I learnt the value of storing my expressions in a conducive repository would lead to a spurt in coming years. From making sentences and writing essays in the classroom( often the best temples of learning and future templates for our blossoming) to composing essays of ceaseless imagination for holiday projects, I took every word to heart and tilted the balance in favour of a natural readiness and flashes of creative outpouring that only practice enables us. I was most fortunate to be greatly appreciated by my teachers and parents who could notice a spark in me and stumbled as I have in confidence on many personal fronts through my teenage amounting to awkwardness and general diffidence, the one area that pendulum hasn’t swung to and fro towards is my writing. It has been my stubborn and dilligent motivator leading me to accomplish a style of expressing myself I could call my own. Whatever interested me, I wrote and a natural corollary to finding that footing over the years, as an adult, is to be rightly attributed to a diverse deep dive into reading. Journals, magazines, newspapers, novels, poetry, now the varied sea of thought on the world wide web, even the matter imprinted on provisions.

The only unorthodox action that goes with my boisterous reading and writing portfolio so far is that I have never maintained a journal. That may become a possibility soon. But I can say for myself I have inoculated myself from some easy distractions of my age which others find easy to succumb to, with the help of my pen and fingers typing away to glory and back. It has been a gift but one I have grown accustomed to respect and include versatility with. There hasn’t been a greater pleasure or challenge than learning how to walk each day with the rhythms of my mind finding purposeful alignment in words created by me. This has made me stand ramrod straight even as a proper gait may elude me many times. In saying all this I know I speak for a lot or most of my fellow writers out there. I hear you. Another thing about writing : you never have to fall back for support on another as self sufficiency is the greatest asset you can add to a personality. It is reliant only on a fount of wonder, observation and willingness endemic to us.

** This is me, your humble friend

So I am a writer and let’s all of us say that with pride and without a hint of depreciation. It’s a boon and the only thing to last us through incoming spells of plunging sanity and personal trials through fire. A turn of a phrase is always a morale booster. A food for thought. A breakthrough. We may have our barricades ( writer’s block) to sprint through but ultimately there is hardly a virtue so edifying. So liberating ( and trolls, please do not make the mistake of including yourselves in this branch). Writing is the domain of a life force we identify with.

2015 was another point of transition as my published works on Wattpad made me realize my gift of poetry, allowed me the leeway to interact with such giants as Margaret Atwood and Paulo Coelho, discover imaginative brethren of like mindedness and the free will to publish an essay collection on cinema, music and popular culture titled A LETTERED SOUL that had been a reawakening of sorts. From the fragrant pages of my registers ( really my treasure troves), I transformed my ideal of writing into a proactive, participatory community lap that has gained me favour with the brightest minds. Now I turn on a new leaf and the image of parchments on which earliest writings were committed comes to me.

** Notice the customary spectacles

As I pursue my writings here on cinema, I reiterate some of the writings on films and people of repute in them who truly enhanced my worldviews in that given year 2015. A leap of maturity that came with a prestigious Films and Literature Masters paper in college and I exhumed all the great works that I had read extensively about but never had the opportunity to watch and learn from. Being a Luddite, I didn’t realize many of these cinematic marvels were on YouTube and I only discovered the ubiquity and brilliance of Netflix and Amazon less than a year ago. So I have watched these, devoured every minute detail and embraced the realism of this greatest art form. From the reserves of my registers inked in ball point pen, I choose to bring my appraisals / writings about cinema, national and international , to you further.

But remember all this is the preserve of a ready mind and a lettered soul that yearns to write and create ripples. So here it is.

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