WHY AM I WRITING?

As a child, I was not interested in studies, but not going to school wasn’t an option. One day, my English teacher, Mr. Bhatia told us to write an essay – “If I were a bird”. I don’t remember what I wrote; only recall the joy of writing. When he read my essay, he praised my creativity despite its grammatical errors. That moment planted a seed of confidence in me – I realised that writing allowed me to express myself in ways I could not as an introvert child. I often observed everyone around me – family, classmates, and teachers, without being similar with the word observe.

As a child, I could not understand the world. I felt different from others in a non-conceptual way. I tried hard to fit in but it never worked. Observing became my default mode because I had no other choice. School books felt alien to me. Interpreting the verses of Kabir and other Indian poets was the only thing I attempted in my Hindi exam without preparation. Somehow, I always managed to pass. 

Later, life brought me to a turning point when the right questions began to surface, and I became receptive to answers. By then, I had tried every other possibility to resolve external conflicts, only to realise that the solution lay within- I needed to work on myself. 

One day I visited a friend and met her father, a humble and wise man who spent his days reading in a quiet corner of their home. Curious, I asked him, “You have read so many books – can you recommend just one that holds the essence of all?” He thought for a while and went inside; he came back with a small book in his hand. I received it with love without any further questions and read it.

The book was about Shri. Ramakrishna Paramhansa.  In it, he shared his conflict as a devotee of Mother Kali, despite his tremendous efforts he could not take his mind beyond. His words resonated deeply with me. His words were filled with love and compassion to help others. He advice was simple yet profound : dedicate a corner of your home and fixed time each day to meditation, and make it part of your routine.

Sometimes, pain and fear push us to a breaking point, and in that moment, we find the strength to start fresh. That book inspired me to practice mediation and transformed my life. The writer’s conflict has remained with me ever since. Every word touched my mind and heart.

Later, I was asked to write an article on water, and I wrote about my experience at Rishikesh with the Ganga, appropriately titled “The Sweetest Water I Drank”. The article’s warmth and simplicity surprised everyone, including me. 

Yet, some critical voices told me that my English needed improvement. Determined, I bought five bulky grammar books, but the sight of them made me dizzy. I thought this attitude would not help. I looked for a local library to work in a suitable environment. It was summer, and sitting inside a library was unbearably hot. The library was full of young students aged 19 to 24. I was sitting amongst them, a 40-year-old trying hard to concentrate on learning the rules of English grammar.

My health did not support me, yet I persevered. On a particularly hot and humid day, I happened to sleep or fainted on the library table. I had never experienced this before. I lost count of time. I got up and came back home, decided not to torture myself anymore, instead to take care of my health and deepen my meditation practice. 

One day, my meditation guru asked me, “Would you like to work on Kabir verses with me?” I was thrilled by his invitation and began working on it day and night. It wasn’t about finishing quickly; I was simply unstoppable. I found my creativity blossoming in inner stillness. The words flowed through me effortlessly, and I relished the process without ever feeling tired.

Eventually, I began writing about my own experience. Writing made me happy. I revised each article countless times, refining them as my consciousness grew. Ideas often came to me in silence, and I would let them simmer at the back of my mind during long and slow walks.  When I returned, an observation from my past would surface up as supporting story structure for my idea. 

I started typing, the words would shape themselves as if by magic, surprising me everytime. Inspired, I started a blog, which eventually turned into the book “ON THE WAY by Vanisha Uppal.”

Readers appreciate my writing for its simplicity and freshness. I’m not a formally trained writer and hold no degree, but I write with all my love. For me, writing is like another form of meditation. 

Though all the articles of my book seem independent, they are interconnected, forming a journey. There are many subtle insights that can only be seen when reader reads it very slowly.

Honestly, I was never worried about my English. My main concern was conveying my true feelings. Gradually, I improved. We’ve all read many books in our lives, and most only hold our interest while we’re reading them. Eventually, we forget their content because the words of others cannot truly change us. True transformation comes from our own experience and efforts. Yet, I continue to write.

A book became a turning point in my life. It wasn’t about intellectual satisfaction but about inspiring others and offering a new direction. I hope my writing achieves the same for its readers.