Today, for the first time in history, humankind is undergoing a collective experience. Physically distant-socially connected empathy, compassion, resourcefulness, innovation, alacrity of response and service before self have come to the fore, heralding a new paradigm. We are at a momentous point in the cosmic scale of time; transformation is no longer an option but a global imperative. The need for healing, therefore, can hardly be over-emphasised.

Like any other individual, my life has had its share of ups and downs; I have braved two major transformative experiences, so far the horror of genocide and uprooting, and the nightmare of a painful, near-fatal accident. Healing through writing has helped me in emerging fairly unscathed.

I look at Kashmir, my native region, with nostalgia, fondness, resentment, sense of loss, grief and hope. The religious persecution that saw many members of my community abducted, raped, mutilated and killed by religious fundamentalists, deeply scarred me as a Kashmiri Pandit Hindu child. I was unable to comprehend and process the trauma of being rendered a refugee in my own country, in the year 1990. As a part of a seventeen-member household, crammed into three rooms, braving the vagaries of nature and uncertainty of poor infrastructure, life was a sudden riches to rags nightmare, not just for me, but also for my nearly half a million strong Kashmiri Pandit community the aboriginal natives of the region.

Whether as a ploy to escape the harsh reality, or as an inspiration from my mother, who would write in English, Hindi, Urdu and Kashmiri, I surrendered to my newly awakened interest in poetry. I would write on anything, animate or inanimate, that took my fancy. Writing led me into a state of trance; it was a purely personal pursuit of happiness. Perhaps the only one that we could afford!

My father encouraged me wholeheartedly. He would get my poems published in the local Dailies, walking all the way to the newspaper offices in the scorching heat of Jammu to save money. He also gave me my first lesson in independence and confidence when he advised me to seek assistance from my school so that we could save the money spent in getting my poems typed for publication. The school granted my request. This gesture, perhaps insignificant for them, had a profound impact on me. It guides my interaction with people even to this day strangers or not! A number of my poems were published in the major local dailies during that period. I kept writing for the sheer joy- to express with no need to impress. At that time, I was too young to comprehend how I was channelizing the energy of trauma and grief into the positive energy of creative expression.

In January 2017, a motorcyclist rammed into me. I ended up with a fractured pelvis, deep wound on my skull, severe spasm in my neck, badly hit left limbs, completely bloated body and sundry other injuries that rendered me immobile. Had three wonderful strangers not come to my rescue and got my head a stitch, or seven, in time, I might have been a laminated, garlanded picture on the wall today! It took me quite me a while to get back on my feet both literally and figuratively.

As I lay bewildered, first on the road and later, on the hospital bed with pain-killers pouring in, it occurred to me that my time here was finite. I had to accomplish what I had come here for and share my message with the world. With this realisation, I transformed the image of the stitches on my shaved head into a piece of art to serve as a reminder and focus on my purpose.

I decided to make the most of this new lease of life; be what I have come to this world to be and not leave with any regret about what I could have been! And the result, seven stitches, fourteen x-rays, seven days of hospitalisation and two months of bed rest later, was my debut book, an anthology of Poemsentitled Soul Call Of Love and More! These poems on love are my message to the world of hope, optimism, learning, enrichment and evolution! The positive reviews strengthened my sense of purpose.

Penning poems made me realise the healing power of writing and how it instils a sense of optimism and positive outlook. Enthused by my personal example, I started to identify, encourage, mentor, handhold and guide new authors and columnists, helping them with the publication of their debut work. It has been my absolute privilege to have introduced six new authors and countless columnists, so far.

During these major cathartic, therapeutic experiences of writing to heal, I could feel the Divine, within and without. Emotionally, I was overwhelmed with relief, gratitude and belief. Mentally, I became stronger than ever!

I continue to write to heal and pour my heart out through words. I appreciate that words can be both sweet melody and poisonous barbs. It is for us to choose these wisely as potion and not poison; to heal and not hurt! Writing to heal has helped me become mindful of my verbal and non-verbal expression. I have learnt not to speak butterfly language to caterpillar people. I have learnt to love without my heart being abused, to give without being taken for granted, to trust without being nave and to listen without losing my expression. It has empowered me to carefully choose who gets a seat at the high table of my life. I now insist on changed behaviour instead of mere apologies. It has helped me seek transformation, instead of vengeance, to make the world a better a place for all.

Words are affirmations. We must choose ours carefully to alleviate pain, our own and that of others, and not to lacerate. Writing to heal is a journey of self-exploration and evolution. Not many people undertake it, preferring the safety of the known to the uncertainty and insecurity of the unknown. For everyone inspired to embark upon this journey, I can only wish that the honesty of their intent guides the curiosity of their talent.

To summarise, wordscan be

Soothing and seething,withering and breathing;

aggravating and calming,wounding and embalming;

disparaging and encouraging, distracting and engaging.

So, with care lets choose,the words we use.

May authenticity seal our writing to heal.

P.S. Extracted from my talk on Writing to heal delivered at WEF Bangalore 2020, Global Digital Summit.

DISCLAIMER : Views expressed above are the author's own.

Original post:

Writing to heal - Economic Times