Maudlin ink.

Writers are repeatedly misunderstood. Rather, too often. We are accused of blasphemy, untruth and saying what we don’t mean. But in precision, the essence of our writings lies within our own feelings. Often perplexed, but unable to write things which our heart rejects. What I personally believe is that there are two types of writers, one, those who write and can fantastically justify what they draft and the other, who write because they cannot speak of what they feel and believe. I am the later one. I do adore the former, but I am not one of them. Should I be guilty or regretful about it? Ethically I am not the one to blame. I didn’t choose to be the way I am. Just that my pen got what maybe my vocal folds lack. Writers like us, are generally incapable of proving things, as we pour our hearts out instead of brainstorming too much to prove that we are right. Our intentions are best. Promise. Sometimes we try to persuade the person at the other end to understand us through what we write and end up by messing it more. We are too afraid that our words when spoken will not be as catalogued as we can do it on paper. So, we write instead of whispering. Not always the one with heavy words, but with abundance of feelings. Writing of feelings is much more dangerous than writing of words for when words are misunderstood it can be rectified but when feelings are misunderstood it takes the toll. A heavy one. The reader is supposed to understand much more than the words. Each word of what we write has something to do with what we feel. You can get hold of a book we read with a pencil along with and you can notice that we underlined the very words we can relate to or the words we had related to in past or wish to be a part of in the future. Words mean a lot to us, not only at our end but coming from the other end as well. It’s not always negative but when it goes wrong, we are at our lowest. While a few words are ample to elevate us to cloud nine, another sparse can end up burying our spirits to depths unmeasured. That’s how our mechanism works. That’s complicated and that’s why we are the most difficult of persons to be with. But once you accept our complications and try to extricate our authentic self, you have someone for life to walk beside you. Our commitments are most sincere. There are certain people without whom we can’t do. We need them beside us. When they hurt, it’s the worst. When they love, there can’t be anything better. Not in all the constellations.

Do any of the ones in your intimate circle of people matches the portrayal? Kindly be a little kinder to this species. When they are frozen to speak, put a bit of effort to comprehend why and let them know you do understand. No matter what.

Thanks.