I had never thought I would tell this to anyone. The first reason being I am not good at speaking or writing anything. I like to do the technical things rather than fiddling with mere words and spending my evenings at a bar fantasizing about the woman upon whom to base my new novel or my next verse. If you had had met me only once, you'd absolutely know that writing is not my style.

Still I am sitting here, trying to write. I need to get it out of me. If I don't put it somewhere outside of myself, I'll probably begin to see angels and demons and what not - that too without the influence of any hard drink.

There is an element of unnatural or what you 'imaginative' people like to call 'supernatural' in what I am about to say. But don't worry. You'll understand everything clearly. The thing has latched itself to my soul like it will never leave me alone. A part of me shudders at the very thought of that incident and yet, there is another part within me which wants to relive that experience again.

I am the eldest son in a family with three kids. Both my sisters had a very powerful inclination to arts and all those artistic things. You could see that in the way they used to sing their poems to me. To be honest, I found those to be amusing to a certain degree when I was in my teens. But my father always taught us to have solid careers in life. To him art was just useless as the artist himself. He always used to insist that this world belonged to only those who have power. Only rich and powerful have life, and one who doesn't command...