Let me start this maiden post with a short story. As it often happens (some would say, always) it is love that has taught me to write, to sing, to rhyme and to drink. Hence my acknowledgement to where it is due before I move ahead.
I started writing for my first blog three years ago. That’s when I first fell in love. Love found. Love lost. Love found again. I wrote about stuff like that. I wrote “All About You” then. Love stories in bits and pieces.
As I grew up a little I tried my hand on poetry. The verses didn’t rhyme most of the time. But, it has been like a passion I kept as and when I had the time to lose myself in poetic thoughts. I penned that piece which I called ‘Night of the Flower-girl”.
My liking of music started quite late. Again it was love. I started to appreciate songs and understand the meanings of their lines as they came automatically when I was so much in love. And, the songs came equally handy when I was so lost in love. Songs for all seasons and I picked up the ones best suited for the occasions.
I mixed water with beer the first time I tasted it. It tasted strong enough for a teetotaler like me. Then two years after that infamous rendezvous with diluted beer, love came to my rescue. The stronger the better I could forget the pangs. And, it tasted much better and tastier.
I thought I write better when I drank. The words came by without much of an effort. And, all the things that love taught me seems to have complemented when I sang “Nothing is Lost” on a melancholic starry night which I still remember to have been my sweetest hangover ever.
That is how it all started for me. Today, I am back to where I was and used to be. I ceased to understand love the way I did then. I can feel it in its own right. I no more drink. But I continue to write. I am no more the alcoholic poet who abused words in the manner I did.
I started writing for my first blog three years ago. That’s when I first fell in love. Love found. Love lost. Love found again. I wrote about stuff like that. I wrote “All About You” then. Love stories in bits and pieces.
As I grew up a little I tried my hand on poetry. The verses didn’t rhyme most of the time. But, it has been like a passion I kept as and when I had the time to lose myself in poetic thoughts. I penned that piece which I called ‘Night of the Flower-girl”.
My liking of music started quite late. Again it was love. I started to appreciate songs and understand the meanings of their lines as they came automatically when I was so much in love. And, the songs came equally handy when I was so lost in love. Songs for all seasons and I picked up the ones best suited for the occasions.
I mixed water with beer the first time I tasted it. It tasted strong enough for a teetotaler like me. Then two years after that infamous rendezvous with diluted beer, love came to my rescue. The stronger the better I could forget the pangs. And, it tasted much better and tastier.
I thought I write better when I drank. The words came by without much of an effort. And, all the things that love taught me seems to have complemented when I sang “Nothing is Lost” on a melancholic starry night which I still remember to have been my sweetest hangover ever.
That is how it all started for me. Today, I am back to where I was and used to be. I ceased to understand love the way I did then. I can feel it in its own right. I no more drink. But I continue to write. I am no more the alcoholic poet who abused words in the manner I did.
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