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“Those of you who are ignoring my writing are doing it at your own risk. I am writing passionately for the last ten years of my life. And I am here to make it big." ― Avijeet Das Writing has always been a passion for me. I think words are like our friends. They talk to us. They understand us. They make us feel better. When we feel alone, words make us feel we are not alone. And I have spent many a time in the company of words, thoughts, feelings, and emotions. I write words on paper. And then the words dance and create their own magic. Some words write themselves. Words have come to me when I needed them most. I started writing in college but it was fitfully. My writing was not regular. Once in a while, I would write. But I think it was in the year 2012 or 2013, when I started writing passionately. And I have been writing since that day, when I felt writing was my passion.”

“Someone recently asked me to write about men's problems in life. She said "I can see pain in a man's eyes! Why don't you write about it!" Her words made me think deeply on this topic. And I do agree with her that as a society we do not give the kind of attention to this topic that it deserves. We neglect this topic quite often. In the fight for equality and supporting the women in our life, we - the men in society - tend to neglect ourselves and don't give ourselves the due that we deserve. As a writer, I too have been partially blind to this topic. And I have not written on this topic that is of much importance. Because men and women are the two wheels of a vehicle which propels life forward. What would life be without men or women?”

“She: Do you always enjoy your struggle? Me: Yes I do! There is no other meaningful way of living my life. My struggle to give voice to my thoughts is exhilarating. My struggle to channelize my thoughts to an audience is amazingly fulfilling. To write my feelings in words is greatly liberating. It is like my mind has all these thoughts and ideas that need to be shared with the esteemed audience! She: What is your purpose of being a writer? Me: A writer's life is a lonely life. The loneliness gives me time to be with myself. I am most happy when I am with myself. This loneliness is like my true existence. I don't need to search for a meaning in life. I have my struggle. I have a purpose. My reason for existence is my struggle to be a writer.”

“Life gives us struggles first and reward later. And as a writer my life's purpose is to write and tell stories. Some people encourage me by motivating, inspiring, and liking my work. They feel my stories make a connection to them. And some people ignore me. The people who ignore me are helping me too. They are helping me in my struggle. I will go on writing, because writing is my purpose, dream, and goal in life.”

“I have had similar experiences as Jack Kerouac had while living alone. You do love your solitude and get time for yourself. You have all the time in the world for writing down your thoughts and experiences. You feel inspired to write them all down about your feelings, emotions, and happenings. But at times the loneliness does get to you! And sometimes you just keep staring at the sky to find the meaning of life.”

“Poets and Writers don't lead happy lives. They search for meaning. They are drawn towards wisdom. They search, seek, and enlighten themselves with the mysteries of the world. Unknowingly their lives get engrossed in discovering newer thoughts and philosophies. They suffer a lot from feeling everything deeply. Most often they get wounded by the world. But it is their destiny to suffer and to let in the light.”

“I would finish my evening online class at 9:30 pm and then after making and eating a quick dinner would then keep writing my novel till 3 am in the morning. I would sleep till 4:30 am and then get ready for going to our Institute to take my 6:30 am class. Reminiscing about the time when I was writing my novel , "Why the Silhouette?”

“words are alive they talk to us words too smile and dance they too have life words cry when they go deep they have feelings and desires too words are tender and sensitive too words understand when others may not words are loyal they will stay with us words don't leave unlike us words are kind and oving and caring too they make us happy when we may be sad words are philosophical they make us go deep to understand life and things that happen words are our identify words are for eternity words make us who we think we are and who we become...”

“When life seems like an uphill task do not ever give up on yourself or on life! Travel to a new place, learn a new language, embrace a new culture, play a musical instrument, read a good book, watch the sunrise, experience the sunset, go for a swim in the river, hug a tree, sit near the lake, or climb a mountain! You will fall in love with life all over again!”

“She texted me 'I love you.' I texted back 'I love you too.' She then texted me 'I love you more.' And I smiled reading her message and texted in reply 'No, I love you more.' Then she texted me 'I love you infinity power infinity power infinity into infinity.' I had no words to reply and smiled looking at her text!”

“The Strugglers" He was born on a Friday. And it was raining that day. He still does not know whether the Gods were happy or sad at his arriving on earth. He saw the world. He saw sadness. He saw misery. He saw the struggle of his dad and mom. They both struggled to give a good life to their children. He started becoming serious in life. He started winning awards in academics and in quiz competitions to begin with. Then he tried essay competitions and debates. His sole aim was to win awards to make his parents feel proud of him. He wanted to become an IAS officer to make his family (uncles, aunts, cousins) feel proud of him. He came to Delhi to prepare for the Civil Services. He thought he will do a job and not be dependent on his parents, and still clear the Civil Services. It did not happen. He lost out on becoming a Civil Servant of the people. He tried a few odds jobs. He eventually became a Teacher, Poet, and Writer. His inspirations to writing - his Mom who manages to write Poetry even now along with her struggles of life, Sylvia Plath, Maya Angelou, Franz Kafka, Roald Dahl, Jack Kerouac, Charles Bukowski, Ernest Hemingway, and all the other poets, artists, writers, and strugglers in Life.”

“You resting your head tenderly on my shoulders while we sit below the old Oak tree. And we smile at each other and gaze lovingly at the fascinating sunset over the hills. This moment makes me feel completely alive as if we have reached not just cloud nine or ten but also cloud infinity!”