He was never a writer. Nor a shayar. Nor an avid reader. He was more on dope, more on LSD and items she didn't wish to see. He was never a writer. But turned into one. He turned into a writer to draw her attention. He turned joints into words. He turned bongs into emotions. He turned LSD into quotes. He turned himself upside down to make sure he matures as the person she could look up to. But! Was she aware of it? Or was it again the one sided battle? Maybe it was one. But he was dedicated to himself and the changes this time turning down everything that could question the change or his choices. He was never a writer. But he turned into one.