This post is about all those people who have inspired me in a variety of ways, over the years, in my pursuit of a literary dream. I’ve found inspiration in unlikely places, among friends and strangers alike. Inspiration had even come knocking at my door when I least expected it to. I’ve had bad spots but it has still been an amazing journey towards discovering myself; and I might not have come this far, if not for the inspiration that came my way in strange packages.
Not too long ago, I read a post by a friend, who’s an eloquent and inspiring blogger, about blogger’s block. I was impressed. So I read some of her other posts and found my inspiration in her. I’m someone who usually repels technology; but after reading her blogs, I actually took the initiative to read up all the material about blogging, that I could find on the internet. And voila, I’m already on my way to becoming a blogger myself.
Then there are other friends, some of them much older, some who are accomplished bloggers and some who form my reader-cum-support base. Talking about support, I can never say enough about the girl who nearly nagged me into becoming a blogger. She said, ” Unless you expand your reader-base, you’ll always be stuck in the same rut for ever. Expand your horizons and you’ll find newer limits to conquer.” That was the best piece of advice that could have come my way. The ones who are much older than I am and yet find joy in learning new things and crossing new limits, are the best mentors I’ll ever have, because they inspire, not with words but with their actions. They have their own problems and weaknesses, but they never let their problems get the better of them. If they can do what they do, so can I. From them I get new lessons everyday on how to fight and win.
Last but not the least, I remember my deceased friend, M R, with great reverence. I knew him but for a short while, but he saved me, just as he saved many others, from depression and associated disorders. He was the sexiest man I’d ever come across; not physically, but in a much better way, in his behaviour, temperament and attitude. He became the brightest light in my darkest hour; sadly though, true as he was to all else, he was true to the metaphor as well – as my night drew to a close, his light slowly went out, until I heard one day that he was gone. He was the best thing that had ever happened to me, the best thing that could ever happen to anybody in my shoes. Had he still been here today, my joy would have been more complete in his happiness. The ones who didn’t know him, really missed knowing a gem of a man.
Had there been no M R, who knows, I might not have been here either.