Hello my readers,
I figured that, as this is my first formal blogpost I would just share a story with you all about how I started my journey towards literature and how I started dreaming of being a writer. Let’s take a trip down memory lane, shall we…?
I was only 7 years old when I wrote the first piece of writing that got recognised by my school teacher. Prior to that, I had just noticed that I got good grades in my writing class but I never really thought that it would evolve into something like ending up studying literature. So, I was seven years old and I remember writing an imaginary story about a grandma who had lost her love for life until she heard this one ABBA song that reminded her of her past and how happy she was then. That song changed that grandma’s life and she danced away to the music of happiness, always smiling from that day and on.
This peculiar little story of mine was picked out by my school’s vice principal and I clearly remember her coming into my classroom saying that I had written one of the best stories she had ever read in her life. Now that I think about it, this was the beginning of everything, even though her saying what she said was a silly little remark. After that day, I decided that writing would be my shelter, my hideaway. It would be something I would to to keep my mind off of the bullies in my school and my childish struggles. People would often make fun of me saying in a mean way that I was a “bookworm”; little did I know that a few years later, I would love being a bookworm and lose myself into the magic of books.
Writing this story – and many many many more following that – made me who I am this present day and this particular moment in time. A University Student, studying English Literature.
So many people have told me ever since that what I wanted to study was a waste of time, a waste of mind. I never gave up and I’ll never will because literature for me is a safe haven. I can read something to calm me down or I can write something to express myself the way spoken words can’t. Written words have been my suit and armour since that very day. Sometimes, I think that I owe them my life, because even in some of my darkest times they were there for me. They were there for me to turn my heartache into poetry and not to self-harm. They were there for me to turn my smile into a story that warms your soul. They are here for me right now and they’ll continue to be.
I really have been struggling to find a way to put my self-expression out there and I hope this blog helps me channel my inner writing muse. (maybe Erato or Calliope? Who knows, really…)
I hope you enjoy my writings to come.