A Breath of Me

Written as part of Monday Musings (Prompt: I write because…).


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A Breath of Me

Monday Musings #1

Most of my readers would notice the quote by Isaac Asimov at the top.

“I write for the same reason I breathe; because if I didn’t, I would die.”

There was once a point in my life where I was at a low, and I found no support, no belief in me from the place I needed it the most. It made me contemplate if life is worth it, and an old friend who knew I liked to write poems suggested me to renew my tryst with blogging. Writing quite possibly saved my life then, and I’m quite sure that its therapeutic nature has helped me jump over many an obstacle after that as well.

I write because it lets me free my thoughts. What I put on paper eases the burden, eases the suffocation that I feel because there are thoughts that I can’t quite share. I write because writing either puts those thoughts on paper or pushes them to the bottom of other thoughts where they soon lose their grip over me.

I write because it lets me breathe. I write because I observe, and life inspires. I write because writing gives me hope. And hope gives me belief. I can believe that there are better things to come on the road ahead, and there are people there with me who will give me a boost when I need it. And I can believe that I have it in me to walk on those paths by myself when some people leave my side and walk away without a reason.

I write because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be the same. And this me, this me who I am now, that’s who I want to remain. And I wouldn’t change that any time. I write because I need to, and I write because I want to.

I write to be read. When you read something that I have written, you don’t just get a word. You get a piece of my heart. You get an inkling of the myriad thoughts that run through my mind at any given moment. You can feel the emotion I put into that piece of writing.

I write because there are no expectations here to be anyone else other than me. When I write, I do not need to pretend to be the one I am at my job, or try to write like another author, be a copy. The stories I tell, be it through verse or fiction, no one else can tell it the same. One of my friends said yesterday that words are beautiful, and the way I see them are different from what another sees. And I’m happy about that.

I write to live and live to write. I write because I was, I am and I want to be – a writer.


(© 7th September 2015)

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Poetry & writing are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

30 thoughts on “A Breath of Me

  1. I loved reading this post first thing in the morning, somewhere I found my reasons too. It speaks for all writers..gave me some insight into myself, a chance to introspect!

    • Why don’t you try then, Sanjana. 🙂 Write on why you write.

      Invisible silence could do with a bit of visibility now and then, no? 😀

      Glad you liked reading my post and that you could resonate with it! 🙂

  2. That’s so beautiful! I loved it when you said that we get a piece of your heart when we read what you write. So beautiful and so true. Writing is not mechanical. It’s not just those key board strokes on a blank document, it is opening up what’s inside our heart and mind.

    • Yes. I do think that a piece of my heart comes out when I write, Parul. 🙂 Especially when I muse about life. It’s never mechanical, and I put myself into it. Glad you felt it was beautiful. Thanks. 😀

  3. You get a piece of my heart – so true…I can feel with the writer here 🙂
    And of course, a post with which I can relate so well – I write to let out my thoughts and sometimes be done with it all. Sometimes, writing it aloud to bring back happiness. And sometimes, the joy of sharing with words is so great !
    Whatever the reason, words say it all…

  4. Leo your poetry always leave one with a piece of gold. You leave little daimonds in each piece you write. I’ve always looked up to you. You always give me praise,but buddy you are why I can call myself a true poetess today.

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