Writing is freedom. It provides you with a gateway of expression. That is where the beauty of the writing lies. It is the art of transforming the clutter inside into meaningful lexis. A pen, paper and silence are the treasures to adore. The writing captures the thoughts, emotions, and pain. What we don’t say, we write.

What we write become eternal. Eternity generates immortality. The words become history and literature. Words have power. Writing expresses tranquillity, solace, bliss, misery, pain, happiness and sadness. It torments the writer into words and stitches the broken pieces. Writing is never good or bad.

What we write, is worth reading. The words are true to the heart and the soul. Great writers like Charles Dickens, George Orwell and many other literary giants have become immortal.

As rightly anticipated by Willian H. Gass “The true alchemists do not change lead into gold; they change the world into words,”. The words represent us. They identify us. They capture the moments. They romanticize the torn hearts. Writing beautifies the tragedies. The literary masterpieces relate to us.

George Orwell, a famous English novelist aptly describes the power of writing “If people cannot write well, they cannot think well, and if they cannot think well, others will do their thinking for them.” The message is loud and clear. When others think for you, you are dead. You are lifeless. You exist in non-existence. You don’t tell the story inside you. You bury it and that is what makes you the graveyard of stories. You write your story and you become immortal. You become the history and you mark the world.

George Orwell in one of his pieces titled "Why I Write" picks up the threads of being a writer and scratches the very concept of motivation for writing. He says that “all writers are vain, selfish, and lazy, and at the very bottom of their motives there lies a mystery. Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. Carl Sagan, the great American astronomer and scientist, in his famous book Cosmos (1980) states: “Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people, citizens of distant epochs, who never knew one another.” You pick up the pen and you find the right words. It is the golden rule as simple as that.

Within my pen what words are pent,

What mystery, what merriment!

It hath a door, my pen, somewhere,

And what a throng is waiting there!

Bright thoughts are standing all about,

And quivering to be let out.

O could I find the golden key,

Open the door and set them free!

(The author holds a P.G in Mass Communication and Journalism and writes on diverse issues. He can be reached at ummushaanu@gmail.com