Of writers and writing

I do not know what I am writing. But something led me to write something after a long time. This post will probably have no order. Just sentences sprayed across the computer screen randomly.

Some things are very humbling. Especially interviews processes. One day, you think there could be noone more capable or intelligent than you and the next day, you see so many people who believe just the same about themselves, competing with you for the same seat in a good B school. They make you believe the opposite. That you are not as extra ordinary as you think you are. Could anything be more heart breaking than that?

I feel that I spent so much time getting approval from people close to me that I have forgotten about myself. And the irony is that whatever I do, they will never be proud of me. They will smile and say that they are so happy for me but their eyes will tell a different story. They will always say you could have done so much better. In some ways they are right. I never did my best.

Sometimes I feel so bound by things around me. I feep powerless. So hopeless. I often wonder. Is this what I wanted out of life ? And I can never answer yes to that question. Yes, I know I am too young to think about such questions. Only my fears are holding me back. I wrote a poem "Living Dreams" on this sometime back. Has the time come for those dreams to fly ?

A friend of mine says that those people who cannot do anything else worthwhile, they become writers. In a way it is true. But has a different meaning. A writer will always be a writer. No matter how far they may go from their pens (Or laptops, these days!). They will never be able to do anything worthwhile because each would be a half hearted attempt. It's as if the heart knows what it wants but the mind, that is what controls the body after all. But ultimately, the writer will always come back to the pen. It is only when he holds the pen that he feels alive. And extraordinary.