Why do we write? Is it for fame or money or just the love of it? If you are a voracious reader, then ten lines down anyone’s work and you can easily guess the aim behind the writing.
But frankly, does the why even matter? If you ask me, I would say no. The reason could be anything but the very fact that all of us have put aside the time, energy and mental strength to write, is in itself commendable. We could be writing poems or stories or just random everyday stuff but we are all united as writers. We could be published or unpublished. We could be good or on the way to it. We could be this or that or anything in between. But here we are, pouring out our hearts to each other, hoping that someone, somewhere might like it. Then we end up surprising ourselves when someone just doesn’t like it but resonates with the whole idea behind the piece. And we pass forward the favour done to us.
Now that is something beautiful. We realize that and we keep coming back for more. No matter why we write, we continue because we enjoy the process of writing. Finally, we all fall for it.
