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Words are all I have…


I didn’t blog yesterday, for the first time ever since I started blogging, which is hardly 12 days. But today this thought kept nagging me throughout the day. And I realized how blogging has already become an addiction. I couldn’t wait to find time and open my laptop to write… write about writing!

Self-expression is one of those small necessities of life, which for humans has assumed a bigger meaning, as it serves the purpose of recreation and pleasure. Everyone has a unique style… some talk or abuse, some cry or sulk, some express via art. Monet painted, Picasso painted and sculpted, Mozart created music, Shakespeare wrote plays and Alfred Hitchcock made movies. I write. That’s all I know in the name of expressing myself; I am not a smooth talker, I can’t cry, I lack the ability to shout or abuse and I am absolutely no good at any form of art. If I didn’t know words, I wonder how I would survive.

Writing is my favourite form of expression. It allows me to structure my thoughts better; sometimes it helps me to vent out.  For this reason, however, it remained much too personal to me to truly fulfill the purpose of communication. For ‘self-expression’ to become ‘communication’ there has to be a receiver. And in my case, there was none. Hence, after a few wise words from close friends, I started a blog. Now it’s addictive; and I have to say, I am thoroughly enjoying it.


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