Interview with Erum AKA #9 Mirakee featured writer.
(@whitewings) a medical intern in one of the Indian medical schools has a great inclination towards writing, and quite interestingly, she says that reading has never been her cup of tea. Even for her academic purposes. “I prefer learning from non text sources, like attending lectures, discussions, videos and practicality of life”, she said. “Though of course, I do agree that there’s no substitute for a good book”, she added further. Her beautiful write-ups are a mirror to her beautiful soul. Let us know more about her and her love for writing in the interview session we had.
1. Do you think someone could be a writer if they don’t feel emotions strongly?
Nothing is absolute in this world. There’s no law that can bind any art. Art by nature is free. So it’s really hard to say if feeling emotions strongly is the prerequisite for being a writer. But I do believe that it is the essential ingredient for being a "good" writer, a good human being. When you feel emotions strongly, you can empathize with people and understand their story better. You can see things from all different point of views and realize why a person does what he/she does. A person, rather a writer who feels deeply can feel the plight of the characters she is writing about. One of my posts was, "Humans are a chemical soup and emotions are the aroma." So I do believe that if as a writer you can feel what you’re writing, your readers will feel it with similar intensity. Personally I would’ve never been able to write if I couldn’t feel my words. Actually, most of the time I turn to words only when overwhelmed by certain emotions, because I feel, what I’m feeling today. Somebody might have felt yesterday, somebody might feel it tomorrow. So if by reading my words, someone feels a bit less alone, a bit understood. That’d make my existence worthwhile.
2. How has Mirakee helped you? Tell us any of your favourite writer(s) on mirakee.
Mirakee is the first platform where I came forward to share what I had been scribbling since childhood. Actually, when I joined Mirakee, I was going through a tough phase and felt like screaming out loud whatever had been eating me up inside. I started posting just to let myself feel heard. Like what I wrote in one post of mine, " People start healing when they feel heard. They get healed when they feel understood and loved." Mirakee came into my life at such a crucial time that I can’t be more thankful to the developers of this app and almighty for bringing it my way. I had tried several other writing apps but Mirakee caught my fancy because of its simple interface, no chat boxes and the fact that I could remain anonymous. It has been a year now, writing on Mirakee has been my medicine, my meditation, a breath of fresh air to my creative side. I made several amazing friends here and whether it is just a random chat or writing in collaboration with them, the experience has helped me grow so much. My personal favourites as writers, with whose words I can feel a connect, have to be @anandshah@lancymark@_scas_@theboywiththespecs@mayankgupta1692I also love reading @rekesh and @jay__j
3. Do you view writing as a kind of spiritual practice?
That’s exactly what I said in my previous answer. Writing, to me, is a spiritual practice. Every time I write, I’m putting forth a slice of my mind. During the day we all see numerous people, numerous events and writing makes you slow down, pause and replay those. So that you can feel the deeper meaning of that which came your way. When you write, you’re separating each strand of the yarn and viewing it as a single thread. That’s what spirituality is. Slowing down. Going into the depths of your own emotions, getting a better understanding of what is happening and why it is happening. When I write, I face my own emotions, some of them which I didn’t even know existed. And in the process of writing his or her story I gain a better understanding of my own.
4. . Do you believe in writer’s block?
Yes. Writer’s block is a very real thing. I’ve experienced it myself and still struggle with it on occasions. I guess, it’s with any creative activity. They need the deepest and real emotions of your being. They thrive on inspiration. And I know it’s a panicky situation, I panicked too, when I realized words just won’t come right and I felt like I could no longer write. But my amazing friends of Mirakee shared their own experiences of dealing with writers block and helped me believe that it is just a phase and to hold on until it passes. You see, we never really are alone in our ordeals. There’s always someone who has been there, and reaching out, might just turn out to be the right decision.
5. Do you try more to be original or to deliver to Mirakeeans what they want?
Writing is a very personal thing for me. It’s like writing a diary. I write what I feel, what moves my deepest emotions. Even if I try I cannot write what Mirakeeans or anyone wants me to write. Anything that’s up there on my wall, has once shaken the core of my being, either a personal experience or because I saw people experiencing them closely. “All my work is like a piece of my heart. And I’ve let it all out there, just in case any piece fits perfectly and helps someone heal their broken parts.”
Through this word of the day piece (featuring the word 'dormant,' as provided by Mirakee), I've attempted to depict what a soul might experience in those first few moments post-mortem. Thank you for reading. Blessings, Carolyn
WHILE LOVED ONES WEEP by Carolyn Glackin And off I go while loved ones weep What life hath sown Now death shall reap And there ahead, a golden light That draws me near, in dark of night My body, dormant; my spirit, free I'm beckoned by eternity The earthly life, no longer mine I now return to the Divine As memories flood and fill my mind I think of those I leave behind Precious moments and timeless love Shall raise me up, beyond, above The dawn awaits, thus I must go My dear ones, please! I hope you know! That every moment, great and small I now take with me, one and all And in my heart a light shall burn For all I lived, and loved, and learned The glow of it shall not grow dim Not by wick, or trick, or whim And there ahead, through heaven's door I'll wait for you forevermore Goodbye at last. Adieu, adieu! Remember me, as I will you. Copyright Carolyn Glackin 6/14/2019.
" These . These are only words. Where's this 'You and me' here , that you often talk of, where's this 'us' that you talk of so much! Okay, can you just do one thing, Try writing your love poem with bare minimum metaphors , maybe then it'll look like one!"
So, TO YOU ,LOVE!
I dip my index finger in ink not in Nile and it comes out as a bristle-less brush not as a river monster's tail , then I try to write a poem on a person who thinks verses are completely useless and on Me , not on a heart shaped soul cracking from within!
If I'll draw US in paper, My mind will add an extra A in its end , Let alone Summer in New York, The smallest corner of my tree house in strom, Will come in my head, Before your thoughts, For, When I sit to write, You simply doesn't come, On papers , I swear, You come with metaphors on your left And a cigar in your right hand, Keeping it just some silenced words, My person, You're hard to sit amongst any of them, Your name too is a poem to me But it looks, ugly to you, when it's alone and free! I love you but I also love all other things, All other faces and stories ,a new day brings My being is a door opened for all type tenants, So , for you , home it must be not! Hence, in the Ice cream corner, I will leave your hand again and ask That little kid when her mom will come! I'll cut your call in 2 secs, If Calls my pain, And will write for you using metaphors!
People often talk about the things they love, With the ones they love, And so, I guess there is something wrong. A bit of me is some breeze and phrases, Which you clearly distaste, A bit of me is a para on self love Which you loudly yell at, A bit of me loves all of you, But not all the time, That bit which you love to call, 'hatred'
So , TO YOU TOO , HEARTBREAK! Today I will break one heart, And will also save one, I don't know which is going to be which So I write... Maybe hate isn't the antonym of love, But it doesn't stay where love exists,
So I dip my finger in Nile, From which comes out a river monster's tail And I try to write a poem On US And add FL before it and a H in its end! And the heart and the soul falls out different, And we are yet to find the shape of love, Different For each of U-S! So here is my last poem or whatever, To you to read or not, With bare minimum, Lies and fake parts!
I will call this a semi-fiction with a pinch of Shit! )
Its an inexplicable rush, almost comical and insanely cute to watch a pair of strong hands tremble nervously at the first thought of holding those delicate, tiny fingers worrying that it's fragile skin might crease with his clumsy touch that it's wobbling head might roll off his steely embrace that his rough lullabies sound like an old, crumbling plastic bag carefully folded & hushed and all of his masculinity begins to moisten at the first look of it's face