The day I read my own words

The day I read my own words
There was a time, not
so long ago, when I decided to write. I had a few ideas, few thoughts which
were my concepts and philosophies, which I just wanted to pen down. I
scribbled, I wrote and then finally I published but I still wondered would
anyone read it.

I inscribed as it was
my passion, I had presumed and anticipated that if not anyone else, I would
read it myself. I would read and be happy that I wrote.

I wrote and I loved
that I had networks who appreciated what I composed. I was happy that I didn’t
have to read my own words. I gathered that if I penned honestly, there would be
others who would read it.

This enthused and
stimulated me to new heights; I kept writing and piling up words and my
repertoire built up over the period. I started off writing my personal views
being serious content but gradually progressed to opinions and comments, then
to reviews and surveys too.

While I wrote, I became
a more voracious bookworm than before. I read and re-read but I never imagined
that I would read my own veracious words. But one fine morning, I woke up to
read my own words. Hey there, it was not like I felt like reading what I had
written but it was like I was forced to read.

As I picked it up for
reading, I thought I would be reading a different perspective of a subject that
I had written a few days back. As I read the first para, I thought, dude! that
sounds so familiar. 

Then I dismissed the
thought and read further. Hey man, this is eerie. The second para sounds even
more similar, and the third one and the fourth one too. Then reality dawned on
me, it’s copied. Para to para! Verbatim it was, letter-perfect and word-perfect.
Now that sounds
interesting. There I was a year back, wondering whether anyone would even read
what I wrote. And a year later, if not anyone else, at least I was reading what
I wrote.

I feel inspired that I
could inspire. I could stimulate someone to just lift and paste. More than
anything else, it at least meant that what I am writing made sense.

Whenever I have sat
down to write, these words by Aidan Chambers falls so much in place for me. “I
huff and puff and struggle with each sentence, paragraph and page – sometimes
with every word as well”.

I remember the story of
a boy who copied an essay on dog from his elder brother’s book. The teacher
caught him and this boy replied, I never copied, the essays are bound to be the
same, we both have written about the same dog.

On a serious note, I
have one piece of advice to these easy writers. Write if you can, and if you
can’t just don’t write. In this digital world, every word written is recorded
and archived. The dog may be the same, but you should at least be aware that it
would bark or wag its tail differently every time.

So in case you think
copying is easy stuff, it may make your writing easy but your life complex. The
author of the original would surely read his own words and you would have to
eat your own words.

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