By Zara Mansoor.
I never set out to become an Author or imagined myself as a writer, it was all God’s plan, as I opened my package what I unearth was unexpected or beyond all expectations.
I have always been a good reader, have read a lot works of others but never visualized myself as a personality who must be crying out for words someday. Just the work of few Authors appeased me so later I agreed to put down my own words on the piece of paper.
The more I wrote, the more comfortable it felt. I started to find my own corner.
Only a writer can feel the journey more rewarding than the destination. Writing became for me a form to relive a moment, a thought and an idea. And as the author, I got to choose what to put in and what to take out, what to make real and what to make fantasy, who gets to live and who must not. Words became the messenger of my imagination, and they were compelling. They stimulated my senses and empowered my mind which I envisage as the finest part.
I still don’t hold my image as a Writer; I am just a person who writes things down and it is all. For me, writing openly stands as a natural occurrence. Like the river during a rain, I am flooded with creative inspiration. And when the monsoons come, I become swollen to the brim with ideas, thoughts and stories that must be written for the sake of peace of mind. It is simultaneously selfish and selfless.
Once I gone through a statement and the strings of my mind are all still connected to that remark, that a person must be insane to write, and if not, then writing would sooner or later make a person crazy – I now understand. I read to enrich my mind but, ironically, I write to preserve it. I don’t continue to do so because I am addicted to writing; I write because I am addicted to wonder. How I got here, I do not question.
“Zara Mansoor is a student of media studies and based in Islamabad. She is an article writer, blogger and contributes to various magazines. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org“