A reader, a writer

What is the difference between a writer and a reader? Apart from the obvious, the mindset of these two kinds of people are at a constant battle of words and emotional turmoil. One is desperate to be known and the other hopes to know new things in a variety of ways. Of course, being a reader and a writer is having the best of both worlds but there are times when it can get out of control. Wanting the lead character to die in a novel you are reading even though he/she is the epitome of amazing just so that it can make you want to curse the novelist is a problem any Nicholas Sparks fan who writes, faces. Admiring the attention to detail more than the plot of a fantastic murder mystery is another such problem. A writer has greater difficulty in writing about sentimental scenarios and tragedy than a reader has in reading them and feeling empathetic because writing comes from within one’s soul and all the frustration and pain in the words that a writer gives birth to, is only a reflection of what they hide deep within themselves. Adding to their woes is the repeated process of editing and re-editing to attain perfection so as to suffocate one’s readers with the same feelings they feel in the best possible way. This puts them in a constant depressed mood as they go through the struggle of reading the things they put on paper again and again and having to re-live their worst nightmares in an effort to please their readers and receive acceptance. It is easy to criticise a writer’s work and sometimes it is a kind of responsibility that the reader has towards literature in general. But remember, there are writers who write just for the heck of it, to get it out of their system! Just like breathing, it is something they cannot live without doing and if a life without books is unimaginable for a voracious reader, a life without writing is not a life worth living for a writer. Even if nobody appreciates their work, writers will survive as long as they can write. That is the difference.

He asked me what I wanted in life

I said-I want to write

What do you want to write about-he asked, with a smile

About how your smile gets to me and how I know you’re mine

How the world has a different colour when you are near

How every thought of mine becomes crystal clear

When you kiss me, what I feel inside

What you do to me with only a touch, I said

And then?-he wanted to hear more

Maybe about the finer things in life

How people change in a matter of days

Different kinds of love that are lost

And maybe a few that are found

That’s all?-he wondered out loud

No, I said

When we go separate ways, I would like to write about that too

Maybe still feel a little close to you

He smiles as he asks-do I want to know who you love more?

Between you and writing?-I ask

He nods and waits for a reply

You already know, I say without blinking an eye

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