If it was a dream, I wish to sleep
forever and live it again and again. If it was real, I wish it to happen to me
all over again.
I can still remember the time
when I actually compiled my very first novel after working on it day and night
for about 8 days in a row. As I go back and dig my drafts of my mail-box, I can
see one of the very earliest drafts saved on the name of “novel-rough draft”
dated 23rd march, 2011. One year from then, I fought with myself,
changed my mood almost daily... forget daily, every moment arguing with myself
to either continue or not to continue with the novel. But, ultimately, in the
end, even after one complete year, after endless fights with my inner soul, I
had something ready with me which could be read by somebody and called like a
very short novel- just some 37 thousand words long.
Not knowing what to do further, I
thought to give it a try by sending it to publishers across the country. Slowly,
I started receiving their replies... at times no replies. I was worried for some
time, wondering if my skills were good enough to be published and presented in
the market?!!
I used to give up... every third
day, I would sit silently analyzing myself, analyzing what I want out of what I
am doing. I would wonder if putting in efforts in what I write is worth enough.
I wondered if ever I’ll go further in this field or not. I wondered if ever I’ll
be able to make it big or not.
Months passed by... I started losing
hope yet again. I would not touch my pen and diary or even my laptop and open
the word document to write down anything for weeks. But then, there was
something with me and my writing that I couldn’t resist. Somehow, after a few
days, writing used to drag me to itself. It is captivating in that sense, sort
of hypnotises me and I used to sit down again and think as a writer and write
down something or the other. This continued for a while, until one day I
thought to decide what I want out of all this?
I asked myself, if ever I’ll be
able to live without writing? And the prompt answer that my inner-self shot on
me was a “NO! NEVER!” For I know that I express well when I write. Thinking I’ll
be able to give a halt to such desires, I enrolled myself to a
distance-learning creative writing course. The day my course material arrived
home, I was crazy... I was almost dancing like crazy. I started reading all the
stuff they provided but soon I realized this is not the end to my desire as
well. I want something more and yet again, I began writing. There was a day
during that time that I realized, I confirmed to myself that whatever life may
bring before me, I’ll never quit writing... I’ll write for all my life.
This time, with strong
determination, I again started reaching to various publishers. I made calls to
them and asked about their procedures, wondering if somehow I can get a start.
I started struggling for my dreams yet again. Dreams of not fame, but dreams of
being with writing always! I used to lose hope, facing the rejections from the
publishing houses I used to ponder if I really have a fault... but all this
while, in these last two years, writing has made me learn something very
important.
Patience is one of them. Having lost
hope and then motivating myself all over again to rise like a shining star,
writing has always been by my side, supporting me and has helped me understand
that someday or the other, all your efforts pay.
It was just a week ago when I received
a mail from a publishing house out of miracle and the publisher asked me to
improve on my word count. I sat with my novel yet again, day and night, while
sleeping and eating time, for I wanted to reach my goal and this somehow seemed
to be the knock of opportunity I’ve been waiting for.
And it was just yesterday, when I
finally compiled my full document I’ve been working upon all over again. This
time it was near to 55 thousand words, a complete novelette and the first
expression, the first gesture that my mind and heart both, gave out of sheer
excitement and a stupendous satisfaction were tears in my eyes. These were not
tears of pain, but tears of joy. I didn’t had anybody around me to whom I could
have sung, it was just me and my writing that lay before my eyes and my eyes
out of happiness and appreciation expressed what my heart and mind had to say.
I was happy. I was... I am happy and I am satisfied.
Tears of joy, I never knew they
were so amazing to be felt. This is indeed the first time when I had such a
feeling. I guess I am still falling short of words to describe my actual
situation. I am just happy that during the course of my life I’ve discovered
something that solely belongs to me, that’ll always remain with me and something
which will love me back exactly the same way as much as I’ll love it.
