beach-book-coffee-mug

I wrote this piece for an aspiring writer’s competition. We were asked to write how we would start writing our own book. This has been a dream for a long time now and I did not ponder much about how shall I start, what storyline should I adapt, where do take my content and other prominent concerns. I just started off and went with the flow. I don’t even know where I’ll take the story from here. It is completely RAW narrative from the hidden recesses of my heart, and quite a lot of this, is true. Its partly what I’ve been through and partly what I want to experience. I have taken one of the poems (which has already been posted on my blog) before writing the below narrative, as part of my entry for the competition. It is indeed huge for me, and hoping for the best as far as selections are concerned.

I genuinely hope and anticipate, that any and everybody who reads this…finds my tender beginning, interesting and intriguing.

”As I was made to speak on that podium for one last time, the stage which I’d homed for rendering my words and thoughts, and the stage which had acceded my voice. As I stood there one last time for reciting my poem and delivering my speech, I could sense the podium, reverberating with all my past speeches, remarks, opinions and poems I’d voiced on that platform.
The fond memories made, will always be etched in my heart, never to be forgotten. They will keep the soul cherished, with bright and solemn decisions, with blissful and enchanting experiences, with resplendent achievements, keeping my feet on the ground and providing the wings of my dreams, the necessary flight.
I have never understood the paradigm of people, not being able to describe their own selves. It is instead, in my opinion, one of the noblest and most divine experience to comprehend. It gives a chance to venture on a journey of self discovery, with more clarity and preciseness. To be able to know your own self and meet our inner soul, to talk and converse with our own selves, to treat and date our own selves, provides an equable and coherent association with the unfeigned person within us. I have taken pride of who I am and who I want to be.

”Her eyes carried an ocean of dreams and her lashes spoke seamless poetry. The solemn trail of her gaze affixed a tranquil and unwritten language. She was brimming with thoughts she wanted to speak, but her subconscious overpowered her words to seize. Her figure was draped in modesty as she embraced a veil of simplicity. Her enchanting smile could unite men of war. Instead, in her serene beauty and poise, she wrote words that could shift mountains, spoke thoughts and voiced expressions with such subtlety that could stir and resound in the deep valleys.
‘A living poem’, had always been the words that people used, to describe her.”
Standing on the podium, the poem that she’d recited transported her to an unfathomable land of nostalgia. Memories waved up in front of her eyes, from the realms of the past and brought in an enigmatic and inexplicable disposition.

”I am standing at the threshold, waiting to make the entire world mine.”
These were her final words as she spoke again, displaying great aplomb and courage. Amongst a thunderous wave of applause, she smiled down and departed off the podium.”

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