A few days back, I was asked the most familiar question by an unfamiliar person. A question that is asked by many fellow human beings when you have a conversation is, “What do you do?”. This time it was a nurse. I said, “Writer”. She blinked and looked straight at me and asked, “What? Aren’t you working?”. I wasn’t shocked by her response, Instead, I smiled and described that I am a Novelist. She followed with consecutive questions, her facial reaction conveyed her mind’s voice, “Why the hell a person should sit and write something?”. She couldn’t consider writing as a job. I was able to get her. Her world was different from mine. For her saving and treating people meant a lot. And with immense respect, I had a good conversation with her and said bye. My writer’s space in my brain stored her because it knew the loud character with a demonic walk, the unique nurse will inspire me to create a wonderful character in my future novel. As I moved, I answered her unasked questions within myself. “Why is she writing? What will she get out of it?” Writing gives me the freedom to create places, and characters and make those characters explore them. A writer can liberate a character from the deepest darkest trauma by introducing them to a new path, a new perspective. And there are so many, It’s an art that can travel anywhere and bring something to life through words and provoke readers’ emotions. Its a magic, which can touch a person’s thought process and give a hint for a new perspective. Through writing one can create and destroy. Create goodness and destroy bad. Writing is a magical world where writers enjoy every step, only a writer can feel it, no matter what a good or bad writer is. Its a magic.
Serial Fictions 