Why I write

To be the thing they call “timeless”
Like the night sky full of stars or a kid’s laugh
It will always move you, no matter your age
or the era the world exists in.

To be the thing they call “soothing”
Like a bowl of khichdi or a nap on my mother’s lap
It will always relieve pain some, no matter the hurt
Or the wars the world dwells in.

To be the thing they call “pointless”
Like a walk down memory lane or the pursuit of art
It will always be worthless but for your soulmate
Or the world that values pain

To be the thing they call “beauty”
Like an overcast sky or a gorgeous man
It will always vanish but in the eyes of the beholder
Or the world that the writer creates.

To be the thing they call “history”
Like a sculpture or Rembrandt’s paintings,
It will always be relevant as an evidence of humanity
Or a world that changes with every blink.

And I write to remember every moment that made me sigh.

(Inspired by an artcile Why I write - by Reginald Shepherd: http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/why-i-write)