Anyone Can Write- Dev Aryan & Sai Ram

“I was wondering, how would it be if someone has zero background on writing, yet his words still find feet to tread the painful white pages and make a difference in this harsh, unfair world.”

“Yeah, The World is one dark place for an aspiring writer. One has to prove his credentials before he can strive to achieve. His success itself isn’t seen as a testament to his calibre. The majority subscribe to the “The Big lie” of bearing the fruits of a cosmic gift; writing certainly isn’t one. Since, no one has managed to come up with a formula for success, it’s safe to say that writing works in mysterious ways.”

Bill, an aspiring NFL player had his climb to success rather smooth. He was the perfect case of an over-privileged kid with a sports scholarship and a touch of literary interest. One of his courses had him learn the history of English literature and before he knew, his focus was drifting from football. So, he started bunking college and soon became a forgotten figure in the classroom. And yet, in the world of football, his stardom was on the rise and he already found himself on the radars of NFL scouts. It seemed only a matter of time before he made a breakthrough in his career. And that moment arrived soon enough.

Three weeks into college and his flair paid off in the form of a NFL contract. Philadelphia Eagles, the team that signed Bill, had a long line-up of established players and Bill had to wait it out on the bench. After sitting through all the games, waiting patiently for a chance to step on the field, it was finally time. Right before he grabbed his helmet and went out in the Philadelphia green, the coach called out.

“Yes, coach?”

“Look Bill, I am gonna be straight with you. This might be your only opportunity of the season. No pressure but you have to make some impact in the game.”

A few minutes into the first quarter, Bill was making a good play along with a couple of other players before a dangerous blow on the ribs out of nowhere dropped him onto the ground. He went into a state of half-consciousness as the ambulance sirens blared in the background before he completely blanks out leaving the whole crowd in sudden silence.

There is a sigh of disappointment in Dave’s face, who was down to watch the game with his girlfriend as he worships football as his religion. Dave feels an unprecedented connection with Bill having watched only the opening minutes of his career. He is flooded with sadness at the sight of one of the charismatic players crumble to the ground at the precipice of his career.

A high school dropout, like any other kid with middle class background, Dave had simple ambitions of becoming a writer. He had connected with words the way a guitarist connects with his notes. Ideas came to his mind like bees to a sunflower. He had no requisite qualification to become a writer, yet somehow, the integrity of his character acts as the driving force on his pursuit to success. Having stood by the notion that “Writing cannot be taught” he rather believed that it evolves from visceral conviction. Thus, he refused to attend Art school to get a definite degree in the field of writing. No matter how harsh life had been to him, he possessed this romantic side which his girlfriend Lucy admired in him. Lucy supported him on all his endeavours and wholly accepted him and his sensibilities. She was intimidated by his inflexible set of principles which he always inclined to.

For you who’s wondering what’s going on with Bill, let me put your hearts to rest by clearing the air- he’s fine. Comfortably lying on a bed, slowly regaining his senses, he sees the doctor coming into his room.

“Hey doc, can you tell me what’s wrong? What happened? The last thing I remember is blacking out.”

“Calm down, buddy. You are fine. We have taken care of the problem. Unfortunately, I have to carry some bad news too- you can’t play football ever again. We tried our best but your spine can’t take another blow.”

“But you can’t just give up! There must be a way. Football is my everything. I don’t exist without it. I hope you know that.”

“Yeah, in a way you are right. Consider this as a fresh start in your life. I am sure you will find a reason to live. Now, I have other patients to pay a visit. I hope you understand that. By the way, your agent’s outside preparing a press release. Do you want him to add something?”

“Oh yeah! the fans. They must be anxious to know what’s going on. They will be devastated to realize that I can’t continue. Please ask my agent to keep this bit out of the statement.”

As Bill was concerned about his fans, there was someone outside the hospital who was hoping day and night for Bill to gain consciousness. And when he read the press statement, his elation was beyond bounds. He dodged past hospital security and barged right into Bill’s room.

“You don’t realize how big a fan I am of you!! When I heard the news of you gaining consciousness, I just couldn’t hold myself. I had to see for myself.”

“Well, you have seen now. I believe you can show yourself the way out.”

“Sure, I didn’t mean to disturb you. It’s just that you have been such a role model to me that it hurts to see you here. But your quick recovery shows the fight you carry within yourself. I just want you to know that we are all vouching for you to get back on the field.”

Bill couldn’t see disappointment on Dave’s face. So, he chose to entrust him with the truth.

“Well, what’s your name?”

“Dave.”

“Now, Dave, I am about to tell you something that few outside happen to know. My injury prevents me from playing football again. I have nowhere to go. I didn’t want the fans to be shocked. All that’s left for me are these papers. I don’t know what to do with them.”

Bill pointed to the papers lying on the adjacent table. Dave picked them up and started reading them.

Once he was done reading them, tiny tear droplets were trickling down his cheeks.

“This is truly heart-touching. I know what happened to you is the saddest thing I have ever read and there cannot be a truer account of it than these papers. You have to get them published.”

“Yeah, I have been pondering over that for the past two days. But I was a footballer a couple of months back and now, I am not. Whatever I choose to be for the remaining part of my life, I have to ensure that it lasts. And my story just doesn’t feel marketable.”

“Look at me!! Do you know the number of fans out there who cheered when you stepped on the field that night, the youngest ever to play for a top NFL team? You need to get this published and see for yourself how big a success it’s going to be! Be it football or writing or whatever, it’s all about passion, that’s what I saw in you back on the field”.

“Hmm, I guess you are right. Anyhow, this is my best bet. I studied English literature and I feel that now is the time when it will come to use. As soon as I start walking again, I will begin looking for a publisher to present my manuscript. You are one wise guy, Dave. Keep in touch.”

“And I shall. Hope to see you on your feet soon!”

At that moment, either of them didn’t know the way their paths would intersect and what a big influence Bill would be in shaping Dave’s career.

After three painful months in the hospital consuming endless amounts of pain killers, Bill was relieved to feel the warm rays of the sun. The usual cup of coffee in his house seemed quite special to him. The painful days of recuperation had him realize his love for writing for it was the only activity that brought him solace. He did falter while walking, yet his optimism didn’t, for he had only discovered a new means towards his strive for greatness.

He was all set to seek a new way of living. The first task in this pursuit included him working on the remaining chapters of his Manuscript. It wasn’t long until he found the right words to complete his first ever book. At the end of the day, Bill found a publisher who saw potential in his writing. Thus, his first book got published to initiate his career as a writer.

The book certainly was a howling success for Bill. As he was thinking about the nuances of an unprecedented meeting back in the hospital, he got a call. It was a guy from The New Yorker who sought him for an interview on the pretext of his new book. For Bill, this signified the transformation that he was going to have. During his football career, he never had an interview and this was something he had always wished for, although not as an author.

While the questions kept coming towards his direction, all that Bill could think about is how his wish of being interviewed was being fulfilled at the cost of his footballing career. And the only common aspect from the two lives other than his family was this guy he met at the hospital who chose to remain his fan despite all the changes. He just wanted to meet that guy again and look for the same pride in his eyes. Soon, that moment arrived.

Bill finally found the crumpled-up card with the bold letters that read, “DAVE WILLIAMS”. Without any further ado he invited Dave to hang out at his place. Certainly, Dave had been busy with his own work, a work which he held close to his heart. It certainly was a pleasure for Dave as it was for Bill to meet up.

Dave was surprised to feel a strange excitement to show a sample of his work to Bill.

“What a pleasure it is to have you, Dave.”

“Pleasure’s all mine. How have you been? How is your health coming along?”

“All’s well. Except for the routine checkup to the hospital. I hate that place, the stench of that place. Boy, how did I even survive three months in there?”

“Ha-ha! Good to hear that Bill. Well, who loves hospitals? Congratulations on your new book and the interview in the New Yorker.”

“Thank you, Dave. I was wondering about our meeting back in the hospital. It helped me in some way or the other complete the novel. I owe you one!!”

“Hehe! I had been working on a novel myself. I got a sample for you. Give it a read and let me know what you think about it.”

“My man! I am excited. No kidding! I would love to read more than a sample. I will be the first one to get the signed copy once it hits the shelves of all the bookstores.”

“Certainly Bill. I will sign you a free copy myself!”

It was one happy hangout. The conversation went on to create a stronger bond of friendship in them. After drying up the coffee, they bid each other adieu by a friendly embrace.

Dave found his way back home all smiles at the prospect of the hang out back at Bill’s house. He thought about Lucy, his girlfriend and imagined her reaction when he would get his novel published.

Lucy had been beside him through thick and thin. This book was as much hers’ as Dave’s. And yet, he didn’t feel it right to let her know before finding a publisher. What if none of the publishers accepted and he will just become a giant failure in her eyes? What if she wouldn’t agree to this gamble considering the fact that Dave never received formal education in book writing. And yet, he looked at his book and knew that there was something in it that someone somewhere around the world would like to read.

Finally, he decided to send the book to a few publishers. He had confidence that the first person to read it would want to print it. Bill had come forward with some recommendations but Dave had politely rejected his offer intending to make his own name. He didn’t know back then, the amount of struggle that went into becoming a household name. He wanted this struggle but didn’t know what it would cost him. After all, if his principles amounted to something in this world, then, he eventually would too.

He immediately took a print of his manuscript and headed out to get Bill’s reactions.

“Can I tag along? I have just been a huge fan of Bill and would love to meet him.” Lucy said.

“Alright, but we are strictly going there for my book. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

Swift steps and an awkward smile marked Dave’s movement towards Bill’s house as he pondered over how his mentor would react to his work. For a person without much of an accomplishment in his life, this could very well be considered a new chapter in Dave’s life. Bill’s opinion mattered a lot to him. And so here he was, trying to impress him with what he had written.

Bill’s hospitality had to be commended too, as he took time out of his busy schedule to meet Dave. He put on a smile, made a nice cup of tea and opened the door with both hands as Dave entered Bill’s house. A simple setting on the countryside with few rooms outlining beautiful mountains to find peace at, Bill’s house was a perfect writers’ retreat. No wonder his novel was doing so well for he had found a great place to pen it down. As Dave scanned through the walls, he saw paintings by an unknown artist, windows peeking through at scenic hillside houses.

“Great place, you got here,” said Dave with amazement.

“Yeah, once I lost my football career, I chose to live a life of simplicity. And by pure luck, it fits my lifestyle and takes care of my job. It came at a very high price, though.”

“Sounds peaceful. This is how one should live,” Lucy chipped in.

“Hmm.” Dave suddenly realized. “By the way, this is my girlfriend, Lucy. She’s a huge fan.”

“Of my football or my writings?” Bill asked.

“Your writings, indeed. I feel a strong connection to your thoughts.” Lucy was as enthusiastic as Dave was bored.

“That connection is my job. But have a seat. We are here to discuss Dave’s attempt.”

“Thanks Bill. Mostly due to your motivation, I have been able to complete my manuscript. I’d like for you to give it a read and tell me if it is publishable material.”

Bill read the first and last pages of the manuscript. He seemed astonished and a grin appeared on his long, thin face.

“You are being too generous, Dave. To be frank, it has been a privilege for me to read your work. It’s a true gem and reached the core of my heart. I would love to see it in paperback. Get it published, Dave!!!”

“Thanks, Bill. Your thumbs-up means a lot to me. Now that I have your support, I feel like I can conquer the world.”

“Let me have a copy. I will show it to my publisher. I am sure he would want to be in on it right then.”

Dave knew that he would say so. Even then, he couldn’t find words to speak.

“Bill, I’d like... I know this might sound nonsensical to you but I just came here for your words of confidence and not any professional help. I don’t want to offend you but this journey is mine and I shall tread it alone, except for this beautiful woman here,” he said holding Lucy’s hand and kissed it.

“Dave, I understand. I felt the same way at my time. But you don’t know how much competition is there. I am not deterring your book but without a recommendation, the publishers might not even open your book, let alone read it.”

“Bill, I truly understand that you are concerned of my well-being but if it is necessary to struggle for my book to be published, then so be it. I want the publication of my book to also be a story worth sharing and if I shall wait for my moment, then I will.

“I can’t say that I am not disappointed. I thought you considered me a friend. But on the other hand, I respect your choice as I might have done the same.

Suddenly, Lucy pulled Dave’s arm and whispered something in his ears softly. Dave rose from his seat along with Lucy.

“Bill, I thank you for the help you offered but your words are enough. I can’t ask for more. But don’t think for a moment that we are not friends. Our bond goes much beyond friendship.”

Bill stood up too. “If, at all, you need any help whatsoever, don’t hesitate. Let me walk you out.”

The three of them walked quietly pondering over what to do. Words needed to be said- Bill had to insist, Dave had to refuse and Lucy had to have her fan moment with Bill. Sadly though, they all kept their lips zipped till the very last and Bill plainly waved them as Dave and Lucy set on their own path.

It was late night, past dinner, and they were watching a movie together under dim lights. Lucy’s house was dark and cramped but it was her humble abode. And any place with Dave felt like home to her. Lucy had been babbling through the movie about Bill and how she adored Bill’s book and his life. For a moment, Dave considered that Lucy was not happy with him. A dull reflection fell on the face of his failures and unconventional methods that had got him nowhere. His life seemed an elaborate lie. But he knew that his principles were concrete strong and if he had to choose between Lucy and his principles, he would stick to his principles.

Lucy tugged at Dave’s firm arm and continued blabbering about Bill. Dave was quietly listening until a little more and he had enough.

“Lovely day, right? Bill’s such a nice guy. Despite all the success, he is so humble. I could see it in his eyes that he cares for you.”

“Yeah, seems like you care a bit too much about him.”

“What are you talking about? Is something wrong with you? Is it the fact that he offered to recommend your book?”

“Funny how for one moment you think that my book is amazing and then, you feel that it needs a recommendation.”

“If you ask me, it was a bit generous on his part. Though, it is up to you how you want your book published.”

“It seems like you want me to take the easy way out. You don’t think I can make it on my own, right? For all I care, you will ask me to approach him for every small thing. You do remember my principles, don’t you? Or have you lost them in your infatuation for Bill?”

“I just said what I feel’s best for you. If you hold that against me, I am not really sure that you feel me.”

The tension was palpable on their faces. By normal standards, their relationship had been going too smooth and this felt as the moment when they will have their first argument. Dave was infused with anger but clearly, it wasn’t meant for Lucy. Lucy spoke after a few moments breaking the ice.

“What do you want me to say, Dave? Why do you hold it against me when it was really Bill who suggested the idea?”

“No, I am upset about how a day which was supposed to be mine became his somehow. I look back at this day from your eyes and I was nowhere. This was my moment which somehow, Bill snatched from me even if he didn’t want to. It was a mistake to bring you along to the meeting.”

“I am sorry, okay? For diverting all the attention to Bill and stealing your moment for him. Now, can we have some semblance of a romantic night?”

Dave quietly stood up and headed towards the door.

“Where are you going? We are supposed to spend the night together!

Lucy felt a sudden twitch as if something was broken. Dave didn’t feel it whatsoever. All he could think about at that time was his book and he needed to do something about it. Without looking back, he said- “There are lots of things that we are supposed to, but they don’t turn out that way.”

And silence consumed the atmosphere as Dave left their relationship hanging in the air. Lucy, unsure about what was to happen, was unable to react to the situation and sat at the sofa pondering what could have gone wrong.

In the days that followed, Dave focused on finding a potential publisher who would love to give his book a shot. Certainly, this adventure of finding the right publishing house which would be worthy of his work seemed futile. Of the plethora of publishers who read his manuscripts, his unorthodox way of writing made many of them reject it.

Finally, after being in and out of many doors, Dave found someone who was open to perspectives. He loved Dave’s manuscript but he termed it as “not feasible for publishing”. However, he was ready to offer Dave an impressive deal if only he rewrote certain bits of the plot to give it a much acceptable touch which appeals to the mass. Dave’s plot had a much darker ending which was hard to digest for the lot of them. He was a man of principles and wanted his book to be untouched.

Thus, he lost another deal. A deal where he was so close to getting his dream come true. He felt twisting the plot in accordance to assume a larger audience would render his work fake. He would stoop down to the ways of a second-hander.

Bill was quite curious to find out how Dave was doing and when his book was going to be published. It had been quite a time since their last hang out that didn’t go very well. Thus, finally swallowing his ego, Bill called Dave.

“It’s been a while. How are you doing?”

“I am good. How have you been?”

“Fine. How is your book coming along? Did you find any potential publishers?”

“Well, It’s more of an adventure. A lot of them couldn’t digest my way of writing. And this one guy loved the manuscript but wanted me to rewrite certain bits to reach a wider audience.”

“So, are you going to change it?”

“No! I don’t feel tweaking my plot just to reach a wider audience does justice to my work. I’m not into it. I don’t mind losing publishers but I can’t settle for something that my heart won’t accept.”

“I understand Dave. It’s hard to make a name in the writing industry these days. Well, even if you strictly refuse my help I feel I owe it you in some way or the other. Your words affected me to snap out of the trauma while I was recuperating back in the hospital. Let me help you out. I could show your manuscript to my publisher and put in a word for you. I’m pretty sure he would love to offer you a good deal straight away.”

“I appreciate you offering to help out. It’s hard to find a friend like you, but it’s against my principles. No matter the number of rejections, I will get through it.

Thank you, Bill.”

“If you ever change your mind, I’m here for you. It was nice talking to you after a long while. See you soon in person.”

“Take care!”

As Dave rose from his bed, he faced the mirror and realized how much he had changed in the past few months. A thick beard covered his face, his hair grew totally out of proportions and his eyes were sullen. Each day, he had worn his only suit with a glittering black tie and groomed himself in the best manner possible. He had roamed nearly every part of the city looking for a publisher, written countless letters but in vain. He had started on his adventure with as much hope and optimism than ever, but most of it had withered away as his spirit shredded to pieces and his strength took a serious beating. He knew better than to back away for everyone would call him a coward. Besides, his principles could not be wrong. He couldn’t malign them with his loath and self-doubt. And then, he thought of Bill and how he had to prove himself right. But, yet how to?

A sharp click of locks woke him up from his chain of thought. And before he could do anything but open his eyes, his mother was standing right in front of him, aghast. Totally absorbed in his book, Dave hadn’t seen his mother for months.

Sarah Williams, everybody said, looked young for a woman of 50. But the struggles of a single mother trying to bring up a kid deceived her face. Her emerald green eyes were filled with pain; pain of her husband leaving, pain of her father dying and pain of seeing her son struggle so hard. But her son, who was all she had for family now, was completely oblivious to this fact.

On the other hand, Dave had never felt the need to seek his mother’s support during his emotional turmoil. He was determined to make it on his own and her presence in his apartment only made him weak.

“Mom? What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I come to meet my son? I had to just check on you. It has been months since we last talked. You know how worried I get.”

“I don’t have time for this, mom. I don’t, till you find a book in the store with my name on it.” Not for once did he look at his mother’s eyes, just kept moving around the room looking for his manuscript.

“Whatever you do, you will have my support but you need to stay in touch with your closed ones, at least the ones who care about you.”

“Which closed ones are you talking about? You never cared to know what I do just as long as I do something. Bill, for all he says, has never agreed to my principles. Lucy adores Bill enough to ignore me or my work completely. And hell, what should I expect when my own father left me at a tender age?”

Now, that he realized what he had said, he finally faced his mother who was appalled. For his whole life, he had been without a father and never touched the point with his mother to spare her the pain. But now that he was in sheer bedlam and could do with some advice, for the first time in his life, he felt the void his father had left in his life. And he wasn’t the only one to feel this way.

Sarah couldn’t stand anymore so she slowly sat on the sofa behind. She couldn’t believe what she had heard. Tears soaked her whole face before she could wipe them.

“Mom? Where is my father? Why have you hidden him from me for so long? Where is he?”

“He is dead.”

“Dead? Like ‘from-within’ dead or real dead?”

“Go to Patrick’s cemetery, North Carolina. You will find your father.”

That was all Dave needed. He picked up his coat and rushed towards the door. Just for a moment, he stopped and looked back at his mother. Her eyes had reddened with all the weeping but she still was putting on a hard face.

“Why did you hold this till now? And why now?”

“Your father wasn’t a good person. I didn’t want to lose you to him. It is only now that I realized I couldn’t keep him from you. He was your father.”

Dave was not sure if he had hatred or sympathy for his mother. But that was the last thing to worry about now.

He rang Bill up as soon as he left the apartment.

“How you doing, Dave?”

“My father’s dead. I am going to his grave.” The words came out feebly from his mouth.

“Wait, what? Your father? I don’t understand.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Okay, wait! I will come along with you. Where are you?”

“At the bus stand on the 56th.”

“Give me ten, I will pick you up.”

Bill was there within a matter of minutes in his blood-colored SUV. He had chosen to wear light clothes in this sunny weather. His appearance seemed in complete contrast to Dave’s shabby, not-cared-for look. He lowered the window as he spoke from his seat.

“Get in Dave.”

“Thanks, Bill.”

“I am really sorry to hear about your father, Dave. What can I do to make you feel better?”

“Just take me here.” He pointed to a location on his phone with sheer nonchalance.

And then, silence filled the car as Bill drove while Dave dealt with his emotions.

It took them hours to reach their destination and by that time, the darkness had consumed them.

Dave stepped out of the car and slowly headed towards the board placed in front of a concrete wall, beyond which laid tombstones in a plenty. Due to the cold weather, the letters on the board had become fuzzy but he managed to know that he was where he needed to be.

He pushed the gates open and walked in as Bill maintained a quiet, close follow. So, began a search for the letters ’JON KOWALSKI’. The long quest finally yielded a small tombstone at the corner of the graveyard. Kneeling down, he slowly rubbed his cold fingers on the letters carved in stone as if trying to feel his father. He started weeping. His tears began glittering as the sun slowly peeked from behind. Bill had stepped back a bit to give him some alone time. Dave’s body felt weak and incomplete. It seemed as if he was about to fall apart. And just then, a hand reached out and held his arm.

As Dave slowly recovered himself, he looked again at the tombstone. The dawn set upon the rock to show him what was hidden to him till then. Gradually, the engravings on the tombstone appeared in front of his eyes. In sharp, italic letters, a never-before-heard quote had been carved on the stone that read-

“You will always be measured not by what you did, but by what you left.”

It took time for the words to settle into Dave’s mind. An epiphany struck him and he swiftly moved towards the car. His eyes leaked no more and his sprint oozed off positivity. He sat on his seat and waited for Bill to arrive. Once Bill started the car and moved it along, Dave finally opened his mouth, “I know what I have to do.”

The next day, he set himself on his writing desk and worked tirelessly on his novel. He changed the ending, then, changed it again and again, till he found what he had discovered in the graveyard. Peace.

One week later, he was at a familiar office with his self-belief renewed. A young secretary busy in assembling files led him to the publisher’s room.

“Hey Dave, great to have you back.”

“I hope you had time to read my rewrite.”

“Indeed. Its effect hasn’t worn off yet. I am truly dumbfounded. Congratulations! we are going ahead with it.”

A subtle smile appeared on Dave’s lips which tried to conceal the boundless joys within him. His dream was finally coming true, he was getting his novel published and he didn’t feel any less connected to his principles than before. The whole struggle had turned out to be a beautiful journey where he became something from nothing. He could see his motto “ANYONE CAN WRITE” coming to life.

“What made you change the ending? It’s the best we have had in months.”

The publisher had a genuine sense of curiosity on his face and it now seemed clear that he was actually pleased with the novel.

“Just a change in perception.”

The moment he had waited all his life had arrived. The venue seemed most appropriate for the occasion. Set amidst an orchestra of books, it was a library. Somehow, unusually for the first time through the entire course of his lifetime, everything seemed so perfect, right from the sweet aroma of books to the joyous looks of all the bookaholics who inhabited the place, eagerly waiting for Dave to invite them into the story of his newly published novel. When it was time, Dave made his way into the center of the semicircular crowd to take his seat.

There was palpable tension on his face as sweat trickled down his cheeks; his eyes fixed on the large crowd that had gathered to listen to his first reading. He had never had so many faces stare at him with curiosity. He was grateful for the few familiar ones who were there with him. He took a moment to feel the true taste of glory as his gaze travelled through the proud expression on his mother’s face to the smile of joy that gleamed through Lucy, who he was glad to see after quite a time. In that one moment, he reminisced all the footsteps that had led him to publish his first book while he sat down to read one of the most appealing excerpts from his book to the audience.

Sophia had been caught in a constant rebellion between what she had been doing and what she actually wanted to do. She was unable to fathom a purpose of her endless tomorrows spent in a boring day of classwork and her strange attraction towards standing by the roadside orchestra while making her way fantasizing of becoming the modern “Willy Felix” (the violinist from her favorite book “The Rhythm of Life”) to the diner where she worked part time.

“Hey! Piotr. How have you been?”

“Oh! Sophia. I have been fine. It’s been a lifetime. You were sixteen when we last met.”

“I still have “Just Saying Hi” the book that you gifted me, when we last met. I cried at the end of the book. Big time!”

“Well, I knew! You would love the book. Listen, Sophia I heard about your aunt. I am sorry. She was a woman of short temper but a huge heart.”

“I miss her. It’s quite hard to comprehend the fact that she is gone now. I feel a lot lonely nowadays.”

“Only time will tell. It’s the best medicine, they say. Hey, let’s meet up tomorrow, while I’m still in town.”

“Sure Piotr. I would love to. See you!”

“Take care!”

She had spent endless time reading and Piotr would recommend her great books.

After a couple of days of her monotonous schedule, Sophia decided to meet up with Piotr in a café in Fifth avenue. Piotr, showed up on time. It was one lively conversation reminiscing all the way back to how it used to be when Sophia was little. Sophia learned a lot about her aunt that she didn’t know.

“I have something, I wanted to show you.”

He produced a brown package before her. Sophia opened it with a glimmering smile and smelt the aroma of the yellowed pages of the book. It was her aunt’s favorite book.

She returned home, made herself tea and politely examined the pages of the book. A piece of paper fell from it. Quickly, Sophia picked it up with a strange excitement to go through the contents of the paper. It was a poem by her aunt. It was the first ever writing she had read of her aunt. There were tears in her eyes by the time she reached the end of the poem.

The following morning, Sophia felt a queer motivation, a feel of optimism. Unlike any other morning, the wind was a little warmer and the day, brighter. She was paying attention to the things around her. She returned home after the day of terrific work and smiled looking at the violin that she had ordered.”

And thus, the audience settled after a warm round of applause with a mix of astonishment and a want to know what happened next in the book. Everything turned black for Dave when his face rose from the book - all but Bill’s. Their eyes met, lips widened and Bill nodded ever so graciously. That was his cue and words started flowing again from Dave’s mouth, this time in gratitude.

“Thank you, it’s my genuine pleasure to have such an animated crowd to read to. Todays’ evening would be one of the sweetest memories in my life. It’s hard to believe that an introverted high school drop-out would end up publishing his own book. The one thing I believe is, each one of us being human, find a rapid need to express ourselves. Somewhere deep down we all want our stories to be heard, we want to describe our first times and our last times, our joys and our sorrows, we all want to spill our soul. No matter how naïve, senseless, or cheesy your writing may seem at first, what counts is you expressing yourself. If a high school drop-out could figure out a way to express himself and make his story make sense, You can too! ANYONE CAN WRITE. Writing isn’t a trait. Writing cannot be taught. It is sought through unyielding pursuit and that’s the joy of it. Don’t wait for the Muse to show up, pick up the pen and be the Muse yourself.

Let the paper bear the weight of your feelings and the world, weight of your story!