Existential musings of an anonymous writer
Can I call myself a writer?
Perhaps, it is prudent to first ask — Who is a writer?
I say, a writer is one who writes. Period. If you choose to not insert any ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’ before it, my definition would suffice.
Let’s check Google.
A Short Story
As soon as she entered the office, Serina was asked to lie down.
Is this some trick?
Sighing, she flopped on the recliner bed.
Hate you, Mom.
“Okay, all aboard. Let’s go!” announced Dr. Preethi like a pretend pilot. She was a middle-aged Indian woman with wild black curls, and a soft yet stern look that spelt business.
“So, what changed your mind to come over?”
Sinking into the fluffy bed, Serina searched her memory.
Best be straight.
Licking her lips, Serina grumbled, “My mother.”
Dr. Preethi twirled her finger rings. …
Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t a writer.
Let’s be honest: the success of our lives today is measured by how comfortable it is. A creative pursuit, however, means accepting endless and complex emotional discomfort.
An artist contemplates the minutest detail of life until it churns inside her being like a whirlpool of bile. They go through life questioning, deep down, whether they really understand themselves, and knowing that very few will ever understand them.
Therefore, an artist is forever in need of wise counsel.
Over a hundred years ago, from 1903 to 1908, Austrian poet Rain Maria Rilke wrote ten…
I have been, let’s just say, going through a lot since 2021.
2020 was strangely good. I was able to write a lot and cook a lot because, all this free time. My husband and I spent way too much time cuddling in front of the television while still being able to bring in a decent income.
But towards the end of it though, horrible things happened. It was an old pattern/trigger of ‘familial drama’, something that plagues a lot of us. We know how to manage them. …
The year was 1942. Nazis were occupying Europe. The Dutch government had already surrendered in 1940 and now, the Jews were being openly persecuted.
It was in July 1942 that 13-year-old Anne Frank and her family went into hiding in a Secret Annexe carved into her father’s office building. The reason: Anne’s sister Margot had received a notice to present herself before the SS (Schutzstaffel).
“Anne and her family lived in the Secret Annexe for 2 years before they were arrested and sent to Auschwitz”.
Anne’s life was difficult. There were eight people hiding in the Secret Annexe. People shared…
She often wondered whether time had stopped. Aeons had elapsed since she’d met him, or so it seemed to her. She tried not to think about the future, but that was all she could think of. As if to dampen her spirits further, he seemed rather aloof on phone calls. Could it be that he had found out the truth about his father? Or the circumstances of her departure from his father’s life.
The thought nauseated her. The cookie in her mouth turned to ash. Anu picked her mobile phone and opened the photo gallery. Sarthak was staring at a…
“I associated Kevin with my own limitations — with not only suffering, but defeat.”
If you are a crazy reader (like me), you will know the feeling I’m going to describe. It is the feeling of carrying a book inside your soul for years after you’ve read it. Maybe it is some sort of divine timing — you needed to read this book at the time. Maybe the storyline is on a topic that touches a particular nerve with you. But you know that feeling, right?
This book has been one of those rare stories for me.
Lionel Shriver’s ‘We…
‘The Courage To Be Disliked’ has been doing the rounds like crazy. Everyone in my book club is talking about it. The book has sold over 3.5 million copies in Asia (majorly in Japan and Korea). After its release in the US in 2018, the book is an international phenomenon.
Basically, its a conversation-style book that dissects Alfred Adler’s philosophy for a happy life. Adler was one of the three giants of psychology along with Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung. However, Adler did not agree with Freud’s theories and formed his own school of thought, known as Adlerianism / Individualism.
The curtains fluttered like quivering butterflies as gusts of wind rushed into Aashna’s bedroom. As if it was deliberate, the gust attacked a bundle of Reader’s Digest stacked in a corner, all copies of the same edition. Aashna’s mother beamed out from the lustrous cover of a February 1990 issue.
A reminder of the woman who’d abandoned Aashna on her 18th birthday. The note had read — “I can’t face the world on my own. I need someone. Someday you’ll understand.”
The wind lashed through the pages of Aashna’s latest manuscript. Unbound papers flew across the bedroom. …
I eat diamonds for breakfast. Lawyer. Writer. Popular Loner. Top Writer on Quora ~ 2016, 2018.