A writer is (just) an arranger of words. She puts words in a form that is capable of transforming others’ lives as well as her own.

Every book that we ever read is just a different combination of twenty-six letters. It is quite overwhelming to think about the origin of a written work and its ultimate metamorphic impact.

It starts from the thoughts of a writer. Thoughts are not at all an extraordinary phenomenon but rather a natural one. Still, a writer has the power to turn this normal idea of thoughts into something as great as a work of literature.

A writer plays with words – searches and studies different words, their meanings and interpretations, thinks and then picks up some of them. The ‘chosen ones’ and ‘privileged’ words are tied in a thread and meticulously weaved into the cloth of paper to ultimately produce a comfortable garment.

Such is the magic of words and of the writers who create awe-inspiring and wonderful works of literature using these words. Irrespective of whether it gets published or not, whether it gets famous or not – written words no matter their form or style – are works of literature and remain etched forever in memories.

It is through a person’s words that she is kept alive even after her death. Written words outlast a person’s lifetime. They outlive civilizations. They initiate a never-ending chain process of change. They embody and represent us – writers. They are our alibis. They are our Legacy.