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Confession of a writer:


A writer doesn’t have the right not to be passionate about his/her writing. It’s unethical as I believe.

But writing is not my passion and never was it. Most of the time, I stay mute. So, sometimes I need to express myself or my thoughts. Being a single mother and a widow, in an Indian society, I ought to live a very calculative life so that nobody can harm my dignity and self esteem. That is the reason why a cheerful woman like me decided to stay mute most of the time a day, apart from my professional talk. I feel, I have lost my ability to talk gracefully in a free flow manner but at the same time it has been improving my writing skill slowly. I am not sure about the literary value of my words. But my words have touched the hearts of some people. Hence, I need to pen down my thoughts. It’s not a passion, it’s a responsibility.

It’s a different story how I found the writer in me. My son is a good and devoted reader from his childhood. It was such a time when I couldn’t afford to buy story books for him. Somehow I managed to buy his school books. Providing him story book- was a big deal for me. But how can a mother give up? I started to write stories myself for him. It was quite exciting for him too as stories came in white papers with my funny drawings. He was happy and I was relieved. Many children read those stories later on when they came into publish. I needed to write those stories. There was nothing like passion. A mother was trying to do her duty honestly. That’s all.

I have written short stories, articles (in Assamese) for various magazines like –‘Priyosakhi’,’Prantik’, ‘Bishmay’ etc. Assam Children Literary Trust published my writing work for children. I am lucky enough to get the chance to write in newspaper like ‘India Abroad’. A journalist friend asked, ‘’ what dose writing mean to you? Are you passionate about it?” No, writing is just a way of expression for an introvert person like me. Many times it becomes my necessity. If I speak the truth, I am always passionate about animal welfare only. An injured animal can destroy me emotionally. If I cross an injured animal without helping, I just stop to live. Nothing can make me happy in such moments. They are my world. If my world is safe, I am safe and happy. While working for animals, many moments come when I need the help of my pen. My inner self insists me to become the voice of those voiceless friends. So I start to play game with my words. Here also, the need works, not the passion.

Somewhere I read, ‘Pain creates wonderful literature.’ Charles Dickens to Harriet Beecher Stowe – there are thousand examples of that. And how can we forget Baby Haldar from our own country? We all accept our share of sorrow or pain in our lives, more or less. But we all can’t transform those pains to amazing literature. Though I am not a talented person, I always feel an urge to do justice to my pains. This urge provokes me to write few words for all the sufferers of my surroundings. I can’t create wonderful literature – this fact never discourages me. Hence, Journey of a writer continues in spite of the reality that she is not passionate about writing.

My son is a grown up young man and a student of English literature now. Thank to myself that I can afford to buy books for him today. Because it’s not possible for me to write those books that he loves to read now a day. He has shown me my limitation. Still he was the one who caused a change in me. Journey of a mother compelled me to walk through all those unknown paths that I couldn’t even imagine of. I know, there are numerous mothers who go through same situations with different colours. Thousands stories of courageous mothers stay untold, unheard as they don’t take out their pen; I wonder how many inspirational lives are living on this earth without inspiring others! May be nobody has got the chance to notice them. I believe, my story of surviving can be inspiring for someone too. This is the reason why I have come out as a writer. I am a writer- who is not passionate about writing but still I weave words together in search of a meaningful life for myself.

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