I am not sleepy.
Neither are many of you.
So I write.
What do I write about?
About writing itself.
Whats there to write about writing?
Do read on.
From grocery lists to black market dealing records,
From exams to frauds,
From the passionate at heart,
To the not so talented but trying to start,
From you to me,
And me to you,
And from all of us – writing goes down, (quite ironically, I must say) as the unwritten code of communication.
Its quite unfair that this extensively used practice, one that’s universal, global, not barred by region or language or gender or caste, doesnt have an ode written to its credit.
Did I just say written?)
Writing is an everyday thing, yes, but good writing, writing that you can proudly show around, read out loud, and get praised for is actually quite rare today.
But why though?
Have we all reached a point where we have nothing to say?
To write about?
Have we run dry of thoughts?
Or have we run dry of the means to express our thoughts?
That, is a question to ponder on.
It is easy to speak, for speaking comes from inside, it is materialistic.
You can see it in my eyes and hear it in my voice, the manner and the strength of my message.
But to be able to put through the same magnificience, the same power, the same grandeur in words, plain words made up of plain letters that anybody can put together – now that, is something that doesn’t cease to amaze me, day after day.
To be able to make people feel something because of mere words is amazing, and we would like to see if we could do that.
We love the world reading takes us into, and we do believe that when we close a book, we’re not the same person we were when we started it.
So we came up with the idea of this blog, to appreciate and acknowledge beautiful writing, and to attempt to develop on what a piece of writing says.
So here we have our blog.
To letters, words, and the magic they weave.
(*It was 1.11am when I wrote it, and I didn’t really want to cut that out. So, yeah!)