Prologue - The Epilogue

This is how the book begins

Epilogue:

Why would a book start with an epilogue? That too a book which I wrote. It is only right that this story begins at the end.

The end of the writer and that would be me.

Now let me ask you a question.

What would you do when you realize that once you close your eyes, you will never wake up? How would you feel then? Would you be scared? Would you be hoping to do or say things which you never have intended just before that? Or would you be just be happy to have escaped this uneventful life?

I've just closed my eyes knowing that I won’t be able to open it again and to be honest with you about the way I feel about this is, I feel nothing and it doesn't matter. Because it’s already over and there is no turning back.

I have always imagined as a writer that we would be at a place after our death, a place that exists between our current death and our future birth, between two worlds, the known and the unknown.

I always had unmatched feelings that overwhelmed me whenever I was at the beach, watching the constant ebb tide of the waves.

Maybe it was due to the fragmentation of one of my few happy memories or maybe it is the norm of the universe, whatever maybe the case, I find myself at a beach, here and now.  

I can never be sure however, because it’s just me on the beach here, enjoying it undisturbed.  Here, I can see no moon and no sun, just a light that seem to never go out. Maybe that is where my soul lies, where it will always will.

The sky looks to consist of a mixture of shades with a blend of my favorite colors. But, the water is as dark as it ever could be, still hiding the dark secrets of its deep mystifying self. Just like my heart.

I can hear the wind whisper in my ear, although I just couldn't understand what it is trying to communicate with me.

It is all so pure and cleansing, so much so that I feel at peace, strange that I find peace here, which I didn't during the time when I was alive. I can sense that I do not have the same quest to search for my purpose and that I have finally discovered freedom.

It’s all calm around here. Dead calm would be the right word.

There are actually three types of writers,

1.     

  The ones who write so that their shallow egoistic nature is always filled up with praises. They have this desire to be always talked about, to be remembered every minute they are alive and after their death. They become writers so that they can leave their legacy behind and the people who fall under this category always seem to achieve their eventual aim, excluding their real skill quotient level of how talented they really are. I call them the egoistic bombardiers.

 

2.The second ones I would say the prodigal ones. Those who write just for the pleasure of writing. Nothing motivates them than the beauty of writing, not even money or fame. They are the minority of gifted people who are determined to live out their lives as a writer till the end, even if it means dying as a beggar with hunger as their highest gift. They get immense pleasure from writing more than they do from sex or weed. They mostly end up as ghost writer or get tricked to have their works published in someone else’s name. I call them the born prodigies.

 

3.The third kind is the very few unprivileged ones. These are the forced to be writers. The ones that are made to write by the act of fate, which forces them to the corners of isolation that they pick up a paper and start writing down things that comes out of their heart, as much as similar to having a conversation with an imaginary friend. This is just their start, but once they enter such a place, even though they can’t completely necessarily comprehend what they are doing, they can neither stop it. Some make it big, but sadly the ones that get them recognized for their works, does so, only after their death. I call them the lost souls.

 

Not necessarily what category you fall under, being a writer in the 21^st century is just not the right place you should be.

“A happy vicar I might have been

Two hundred years ago

To preach upon eternal doom

And watch my walnuts grow;

 

But born, alas, in an evil time,

I missed that pleasant haven,

For the hair has grown on my upper lip

And the clergy are all clean-shaven.”

This poem by George Orwell would clearly explain the situation. 

The worst thing that can happen to you is to be a writer and fall under category 3.

I’m sure by this time you would have guessed where I'm coming from.

Yes, the third one.

I’m happy in a way though, I didn't have to push myself hard to write a story. I have just lived one.

 

Author's Note

Thank you for your valuable comments.
Follow me on twitter @JDotTheWriter

Reviews

[Tionge Rosalie Johnson]

"The third kind is the very few unprivileged ones. These are the forced to be writers. The ones that are made to write by the act of fate, which forces them to the corners of isolation that they pick up a paper and start writing down things that comes out of their heart."

You are definitely a writer at heart! I also fall into this category (the third one), because writing is almost like a coping mechanism for me. I was diagnosed with high-functioninig depression and anxiety, so writing really helps me let my feelings onto the page and not keep it silent and hidden inside. Plus, I feel that through my writing I can also help others cope and feel less alone. Thank you so much for talking about this and being vulnerable with us. Some of the best writers are some of the most vulnerable ones, so you are on the right track! Keep it up!

[Jennifer]

Wow, probably one of the most beautiful pieces I have read. I don't know what number I am ;)

[Jerald Infant Jeyarethinam]

Ha Ha ... Thanks Jennifer:)

[Patricia]

It wasn't hard to read because you wrote it so well. keep it up, I like it!

[Jerald Infant Jeyarethinam]

Thank you so much patricia:) I'm not much of a writer to use complicated terms:P

[Penny]

I am scared to say.. But I feel I've read the 'three types of writer' thing somewhere else. The beginning is original and compels you to stick around. Great start... but

[Jerald Infant Jeyarethinam]

Thank you penny... You can give any kind of criticism... Most of my writings are from the people i've met. the experiences i've had with them.. If you can come across my writing as somewhere... You are very welcome to share where you got that from... I believe my writing is original.. Thanking you:)

[Penny]

I seriously don't remember, and I would like to ask you if you have a personal blog.. May be I read it there, there or in a writer's advice sort of blog. Anyway I told you earlier too, that its unique and really great piece :)

[Sindu]

I liked this earlier and now as well! Your writing style is free and devoid of word-mongering. Nice to follow, to try and makes one think.

A fellow lost soul...

[Jerald Infant Jeyarethinam]

Thank you very much sindhu

[prajakta]

likedur writing style.and the types of writers thing was informative.liked it:-)

[Jerald Infant Jeyarethinam]

Thank you prajakta:)

[R Smith]

i'm not the right person to review stories as i don't have a clue how to write one but i like your work and this piece is exceptional, i believe i'm a type 2 writer as close as i can get, good to read your stuff :)

[Jerald Infant Jeyarethinam]

Thank you for your kind words richard:) It's nice to receive a compliment from the prodigal one:)

[R Smith]

Thanks Jerald, Ive really got that prodigal thing going on, going to die as a beggar and guaranteed to be tricked sooner or later, just about sums up my writing life lol :)

[Dayran]

A prologue certainly puts in perspective our many thoughts on the issues ... but the story thereafter ... makes it plain the choices we make.

[Jerald Infant Jeyarethinam]

Mine starts with an epilogue :P thanks dayran:)

[swarupa]

A nice simple way of descriptions. .I like it .. ☺