I got a notification yesterday that said that I had made my 100th post. How beautiful that my hundredth post here also happens to be one that is close to my heart. I’m in the process of writing a book, and what I posted here were excerpts from the book in the previous two posts.
Those of you who have been with me on this journey know that I started off as a college student, five years back wanting to write about the mundane and unusual of our day to day lives. While I tried to stay true to my vision, I have also realized along the way that the kind of society we have in Pakistan doesn’t allow much room for thought.
Whatever I have written here in the past couple of years has been sporadic to say the least. I have not been consistent rather I have had to carefully curate my words in order to fit other people’s perception of truth. It is only recently when I came to a point where I understood the meaning of writing what feels right to myself. Somebody told me once that if it feels good to you, you should write it.
I write to be read, we all do in the blogosphere, but I also write to be heard, to be understood, to be a voice for people who don’t get to talk about their lives freely. I have been that person myself and I still am to a certain extent. The repercussions of full disclosure in a nation like Pakistan can be brutal.
They wouldn’t know reading if a book hit them in the face but if they found out someone is writing about meaningful things on a blog, they will rise to the occasion and keep tabs and read for the sake of good ol’ mischief. It’s amazing how people tend to think they know someone by knowing so little.
Wait, wasn’t the nation made on the basis of a huge assumption? Or was it a rational decision made by our forefathers based on facts and principle? Well, we don’t really care do we? For us, it’s all just one big presumption.
You think you know someone and yet you know so little when you really think of it in broader terms. My writing is a reflection of who I am and I am not ashamed of it, as are all writers who choose to bare themselves to the world. There is a lot that we choose to keep to ourselves and to share with the world, and while what I write might mirror some of my thoughts and opinions, it doesn’t necessarily mean that a fictional piece of work has to be based on my life’s reality or anyone else’s for that matter.
I only wish that the people who choose to create unnecessary drama in other people’s lives would have the sense to differentiate facts from fiction and keep their toxicity to themselves. You don’t look good by making someone else look bad.
Thank you for being with me on this journey. Peace and love to all. xx