A Writer Who Died For His Stories





Dear diary,

 

You know exactly who I am, you know all my secrets. You know me like no one else does. You have witnessed my transformation from a loser into a writer. You have seen me sharing my life via my characters. Readers out there read and rejoice thinking of it as yet another fiction, little do they know that it’s my life I had been writing about.

 

Dear diary, there is something I have hidden from you as well. You know how I take up incidents from my own life and give them to my characters, making different stories with happy and sad endings. I never told you this, but I always felt each one my pieces missed something, just like my life. This is something which has been bothering me from the moment I picked up my pen and started to bleed. As you very well know, dear diary, the only reason that how I never accepted anyone’s compliments, was this. How could I accept something if I don’t find myself worth it?

 



After months of pondering on this, I finally realised what my stories missed. They missed my soul, they missed my blood. You see, dear diary, a story without a soul is just a piece of simple text. I know people will disagree, saying, ‘Your stories are perfect, they have everything in it.’ But is it necessary that something complete for others should be complete for you too? Well, I don’t think so. Today as I fill this particular page, a gun lies in front of me ready to give what my stories lacked. A bullet in my head will detach my body from this world, but my soul, my blood, they will get attracted to my stories forever.

 

My death won’t go waste, dear diary. I can’t die, I am already immortal. My soul and my blood which from now on will be a part of my stories will keep me alive.

 

A very goodbye, dear diary. Please don’t let people interpret my death as a suicide, because it isn’t one. Please don’t let people consider me yet another coward, let them read this last page of my life and let them see to what extent can a writer go to make his creativity breath and live.

 

~ Viwanshu Vaibhaw | Edited by Afreen Zeb

 


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