I am therefore I write!

My writing is like me: simple, straightforward, sensible. No complex sentence structures, no nuances, no textures, no hidden meanings…. I write like I talk. In the days before email (Yes, those ancient days when, horror of horrors, there were no computers or emails!) I used to write long letters to my friends and family. A classmate who has preserved some of my letters to this day, recently told me: “Every time I read your letters, I felt you were right there in front of me, talking to me”.  I admire the way my friend Ranjana writes. And the way my daughter writes. But sadly I cannot write like them. My style is different.

I love writing. And writing is all that I wanted to do for as long as I can remember. I articulated this when I was in the sixth standard when I mentioned “Author” as my ambition in a classmate’s autograph. A word that is almost obsolete today and taken over by the more contemporary “Writer”.  I loved English classes, especially compositions - another obsolete word.  I enjoyed writing those compositions – My Best Friend, The Autobiography of a Rupee, My School… Sometimes, I would pen a poem as part of the composition. I would be called over by my teacher Miss Meera to read these compositions aloud. As I entered my tenth standard, I veered more towards poetry. I wrote poems for my siblings and cousins on their birthdays; I wrote a poem about my dad’s friend, which he proudly shared with all and sundry; I wrote poems on stuff that I saw, felt or even imagined. I was praised. My family thought I was really talented and I started believing them. So I wrote some more. And became more passionate about writing.

To write well, you must read. And I read a lot. I devoured books. It helped that I came from a family of readers and was surrounded by books and magazines. We were encouraged to read. I think there was not a single room in the house that did not have books. And that’s true of my home now too. And so I read and nursed my ambition. Literature is what I wanted to do. So off I went to Madras to do my graduation in English Literature and my post graduation in Journalism and Mass Communications  – the first girl in the family to step out of the hometown for further studies.

Destiny then brought me into advertising and I became a copywriter. I wrote for a living. I learnt to write with discipline. I learnt to write to sell. I learnt to write under pressure. I learnt to write with crazy deadlines.  My clients loved what I wrote. I remember three incidents in particular when my writing was especially noticed and appreciated, by two different Chief Ministers of Karnataka.

The first was a campaign we did focusing on communal harmony post the Babri Masjid demolition. The Government of Karnataka, through the Department of Information & Publicity wanted to do a multi-media campaign. We worked through the night and finally came out with a campaign that I am really proud of… Veerappa Moily was the Chief Minister of Karnataka then. The Client Servicing Executive and I went to his official residence on Kumara Krupa Road to present the campaign. He read through it and expressed his happiness with the work.

Years later, we did a brochure for KPCL for the inauguration of a Power Plant. The Chief Guest was the then Chief Minister of Karnataka S M Krishna. Just to make the brochure interesting, I wrote a poem on the Krishna River. The CM was so impressed with it, that he asked the MD of KPCL who had written the poem. I was given a letter of appreciation and a KPCL Bond!

A couple of years ago I did a brochure for free for a charitable organization that takes care of orphan girls and destitute women. The brochure was ‘launched’ at a function held in honour of the woman who started the Ashram. Another CM was the Chief Guest. He cursorily flipped through the brochure and then started reading it – seriously reading it, word for word. At the end of it he announced a sizeable amount to be disbursed to the Ashram. Did the money actually reach this place? That is another story.

I am a third generation writer. My maternal grandfather wrote. My mother wrote, though sadly she has not preserved any of her writings. Uncles, aunts, cousins… they all write and write well. Some of them are even published. I wrote my very first novel – more as a lark. A Mills & Boons kind of book, just to prove to a friend (who loved M&Bs) how silly these books were and how easy to write. My second novel took several years to write and is now waiting to see the light of day. There are more books waiting to be born, more stories waiting to be told. They come to me in the most unexpected moments. When I am driving. When I am day-dreaming. When I am lying on my bed and just thinking idly…

Writing is not always easy, especially for a perfectionist like me. I want every sentence to be crafted perfectly, every word to be chosen with care. Sometimes it happens naturally. That’s what I call ‘inspired’ writing. It seems to come from some divine source and I know that I cannot duplicate that again.  

Writing – like most other art forms – is a gift from God. It is not something you learn. It is inherent and then you polish it, you hone it, you make it as good as you can. I am truly grateful to Allah for giving me this gift. A gift that has defined me. A gift that has brought me such joy and satisfaction. A gift that has helped me make my passion into my livelihood. A gift that I have passed on to my daughter, a fourth generation writer.