Every reader must have a writer within, some blazing, some dead and some struggling inbetween. And this is the story of a reader, who then fired up the writer within.

Writing did'nt came as a cure to my pain, but later it became one.

I still can't remember the exact time, but somehow, it became the blood in my veins and nerves in my brain.

If you are waiting for a poignant story behind, kindly ignore. Its the sweetest love story, I have ever had.

Love happened, when I chose pen along with stethoscope, papers along with prescriptions.

Love is a pain, love is a cure, Sometimes, annoying, yet you can't live without. My shades of pen fed me that intense feel.

I struggled,
Sometimes for words,
Sometimes for time,
Sometimes for reasons,
Yet, writing became the freedom to my struggles.

Its not for the feedbacks, Its not for inspiring, its not for appreciations and popularity, Its for my living, its for my peace.

What if a person breathes in letters and expires words?
What if a person gulped in the memories and blurted out poems?

Its love, Its life and its everything. I know, our story never has an end... This forever means a forever.