‘So many of this generation’s individuals want to become
writers because there is a pandemic of loneliness’, says the Swiss
philosopher Alain de Botton in one of his essays. For me, too, writing became a
way of companionship ever since I became conscious of the loneliness around me.
I write in parts, maybe, to be read someday by someone, but I write, most
intently, to feel heard and accompanied in act of writing itself. The
introverted me, in this ‘pandemic of loneliness’, has always himself at odds
with and marooned from the general sea of people out there; a blank page, in
contrast, has been kinder, more understanding, and generously available to me.
Yet I didn’t start writing seriously until I had started
reading. Books, and the solitary act of reading, not only exposed my mind to a
diverse universe of thoughts and feelings, but in doing so, separated me even
further from the people around me. While books did keep me company, it also
made me ‘intellectually lonelier’, for now I had found a hobby, reading books,
that is almost extinct in today’s time.
To cope with this ‘intellectual loneliness’ and the burden
of my expanding consciousness, I then tuned to writing for what it is most
useful and significant for: understanding. I write to discover what I know, and
in the act of writing, my aim is to arrive at a deeper understanding of what I
am writing about. Loneliness of the mind can be quite torturous for you’re left
with so many unresolved and distinct thoughts; writing helps bridge these
stranded thoughts and reach for clearer and transcendental understanding of the
whole. And of course, as the philosopher Will Durant said, ‘Understanding
pardons all’; I, too, find the peace, kindness, and courage to forgive once I
understand.
(For Sybrid 'content intern test')