Back with another one-shot.

"Words in double quotes" - Talking

'Words in single quotes' - Thoughts

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
A writer isn't a writer because she/he is perfect and excellent at everything. She/he doesn't write because she/he has a mastery over it. Instead, a writer is a writer because she/he writes no matter what! Even when there is no hope, even when there is no sign of any promise, even when situations seem dire...they keep writing. They do it because it defines them. It's what they are. They're writers!
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

3. Writer in Me

"I'm sorry, but I can't accept it."

"But...but why?"

"There are mistakes in it."

"Well, I'll correct it. Will you accept it then?"

The man shook his head. "I'm really sorry miss. But I can't."

"But I've spent so much effort in writing this book. Please at least guide me. You have guided, supported, encouraged and positively commented on many other works. Why not give me the same support? Maybe with your help, I can improve a lot." Pragya pleaded.

The man gave her back the folder which contained her story. "I'm sorry. But I'm busy. I only support those stories that I find suitable."

Pragya glared at him. "So you mean to say that you will reject any story that opposes your view? We have freedom of speech in our country. We all have the right to voice out our thoughts and opinions."

'How dare she talk to me like that?!' he man glared back. "Fine then. Go use it any publish this yourself."

"I would have if I could. But it is you whose appreciation and commentary is necessary for me. Without your written recommendation, this won't be accepted in the publishing house."

The man smirked. "Then I can't help you there."

Pragya looked at him shocked. "How could you say that? I worked so hard to make this story. And you? You can't give a single recommendation?! I've given my best, tried my hardest! At least if you give me your views on the story, I can know what I need to change in order to improve. But you are being outright ignorant!"

"Stop wasting my time and leave!"

"Why are you being so unfair to me? When you can be supportive for others, why not me?" Pragya questioned. She put forward her folder. "Just look at it once and tell me what's wrong. I'll try to improve."

The man threw her folder away, making some pages fall astray on the floor. "This story of yours is nothing but bull crap! It's nothing but a good for nothing fic that won't ever find recognition. It's garbage! So leave!"

Pragya looked at him with tears in her eyes. Being a adult, she shouldn't cry. But what he said, hurt. She had put her heart and soul in it. Yet, this is how he treats her work? She knew she wasn't perfect. She was still learning. But this didn't mean that her work deserved to be treated like trash.

She looked down at the pages on the floor. 'It might be just ink on paper for him. But for me...for me it's a part of me. A part of me that wants to breathe a life of its own. A part of me that wants to present the world in its own way.'

Pragya bent down and picked up the pages one by one. She took one last glance at the office and left the place in utter disappointment.

If she would have looked back, she would have seen that she had missed one page as it lay there.

The man watched her go with a satisfied smirk. "That will make sure she never comes here ever again."

His colleague looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "You seem extremely happy Raghu. I guess that's because you got to lash out and prove your superiority today, eh?"

Raghu chuckled. "Yea. She was too innocent anyway. Its always easy to put the sweet and innocent ones in their place! I could have encouraged her, but you saw how she dared to stand up to me ."

"So you insulted and humiliated her because you couldn't hold an intelligent and valid argument against her? Because you knew she was right and you were wrong?"

Raghu glared at her. "Shut up Bulbul. It's none of your business. Besides, you didn't see her work. It was so raw in its context. The ones I accept are usually quite acceptable."

"So what? That doesn't mean that you should disrespect someone's efforts. You and I can't possibly know how much effort they must have put in it." Bulbul reasoned. "And you talk about perfect? No writer is perfect. Every writer is in a way a learner. The difference is that some are way ahead and some are behind. But all are eventually the same...all are learners in their own way."

Raghu adverted his eyes, not having anything to counter that argument. "W-well she was in self-doubt herself! How will she become a writer if she self-doubts so much? It's good that I cut off her wings in writing before she even began. She would have doomed herself."

"Self-doubt is the necessary evil Raghu. You're only a editor. You won't understand what it takes to be a writer." from the corner of her eyes, Bulbul saw a paper on the floor. She got up from her seat. "When a writer has self-doubt, he or she writes well. The moment there is no self-doubt, they should realize that it's time for them to put the pen down."

Bulbul picked up the paper and read it over. 'Hmm...whoever she was, I'm sure she had written a letter or two here before getting permission to meet Raghu. I think I'll be able to find out her details from there.'

#Arora house, next day#

Pragya clicked away on her phone as she lay on her bed in a sullen mood. She felt someone come sit beside her. "Maa?"

"Pragya, what's wrong? You can tell me. Did...did something happen at work?"

Pragya sighed in misery. She wished she could tell her mother the truth. But they won't understand.

Pragya has a well paid job and an amazing family. They all support her in every decision.

But she hasn't told them about her dream of becoming a writer. Because she knows they won't support her in that decision.

Why one might ask.

The reason was that like any other practical person, they thought that being a writer won't help earn much. They believed that people are born writers and it is only those that are able to achieve great heights. They believe it is something for the people of luxury, not for ordinary, middle-class people like them.

'Writing can't earn a living.' they would say.

'You got a job. Concentrate on that.' they would say.

And she didn't want to get disappointed from their discouraging thoughts. She wanted to write, to get recognized for her views. People might call her a fool for being so passionate about being a writer, a profession that doesn't earn much.

But she was ready to be a fool. If being a writer means being a fool, a fool who only masters nothing but only their own soul, only their heart's happiness, then so be it! She doesn't mind being a fool.

"Hello aunty. Hello Pragya!" came a voice from the door. It was Tanu, their neighbour. Tanu loved writing as well. She writes columns in Daily Sentinal. She was the only one who knew that Pragya was planning to write a book.

"Ah, Tanu dear. Nice that you are here. I don't know what has happened to Pragya. But she's been so sad since yesterday."

"Is that so? That's okay. Leave it up to me to cheer her up. Can you make us some pakoras aunty? I just love them so much!"

Sarla smiled at her chirpiness. "Okay. I'll make them right away."

Once Sarla left, Tanu came and flopped on top of Pragya.

"Oof! Tanu, get off! You're heavy!"

"Not until you tell me what's bothering you. Come on, you can tell me."

"It's...its nothing Tanu."

Tanu made her sit straight and glared at her. "Tell me what's wrong Prags. Or I'm never gonna talk to you ever again."

Pragya snorted. "As if you can stop talking for even a minute." 😑

"Pragya, I'm warning you! Don't underestimate me." 😏

Pragya sighed in defeat. 'I guess talking to someone will help me. I can't keep it all bottled up forever.' Pragya nodded. "Okay drama queen. I'll tell you."

After sometime...

"So that's why I'm in this state. I...I can't believe he treated me like that."

Tanu was about to respond when Sarla came in with the pakoras. "Here you go. Eat up! I have to finish my other chores. I'll be back later, alright?"

They thanked her and watched Sarla go.

Tanu picked up one of the pakoras and munched it like she had some enmity with it.

"Tanu? What did it ever do to you? You're eating it like you're murdering it."

"I'm just imagining this to be the that Raghu guy. I'll make a pancake out of him if I ever meet him!"

Pragya chuckled. However, her smile disappeared as a thought struck her. "But Tanu, what if...what if he was right? What if I am that bad at writing?"

"What the heck Prags?! That's ridiculous with a capital R!"

"But he said so."

"Which proves how much of ignorance the guy has. Just because one person tells you that you can't write well doesn't make you a bad writer. Out of many, there is always bound to be someone who will criticize or not appreciate your work. But that shouldn't make you stop writing."

"But Tanu I do-"

"She's right." came a voice from the door. They both looked to find a girl standing there. She came forward and stood in front of Pragya, holding out a paper to her. "You dropped this when you left. I'm Bulbul by the way."

Pragya took the paper from her. "Oh. This is the prologue to my story. Thank you so much Bulbul." Pragya smiled at her. However, her smile disappeared just as soon as it came. "But I guess I don't need it anymore."

Bulbul looked at her confused. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not writing anymore. I think it's time I stop trying to achieve something I'm not good at."

"That's bull crap Prags! If you ask me, I think the best writers still think of themselves as amateurs in writing. No one is perfect!" Tanu exclaimed dramatically.

Bulbul sat beside Pragya. "She's right Pragya. Just because some of bigots, you shouldn't stop writing."

"But he's not totally wrong. I'm not good at many things when it comes to writing."

"That's what you think. But it's not true at all." Bulbul told her with a smile, while Tanu nodded in the background. "Pragya, a writer isn't a writer because she is perfect and excellent at everything. She doesn't write because she has a mastery over it. Instead, a writer is a writer because she writes no matter what. Even when there is no nope, when there is no sign of any promise, they keep writing. They do it because it defines them. It's what they are. They're writers!"

"But as a writer, I should be more capable, shouldn't I?"

"You are. You are a writer and you are capable." Tanu replied. "Bulbul's right Prags. We are writers. We are the ones who stay up all night to type and publish stories, and yet listen crap from some haters. We are the ones who sometimes get misunderstood and trolled. We are the ones who spend hours thinking of new plots. We breathe life into characters. We create a new world for readers to escape into for their happiness! Out of them, some appreciate, while some don't."

"You and Bulbul are able write well. But I can't!"

Tanu stomped her feet in anger. "That's just another dose of bull crap! Why the heck won't you understand?!"

Bulbul placed a hand on Pragya's shoulder. "Look Pragya. We aren't perfect either. No one is! It's flaws that make a person beautiful. You say we are good. But I to consider myself a learner. Once, I was like you as well, scared and insecure. But I wanted to be a writer. So I chose to write. To stop dreaming of writing, to stop thinking of writing, to stop wishing about writing...but got down and actually wrote something. That is the secret to become a writer Pragya."

"But guys, I'm scared that others won't accept my views, just like Raghu didn't. I'm scared to wr-"

"Don't be. If a story is in you, it has got to come out. No one sees the world the way you see it and no one can tell the stories you can tell. Don't be scared to write. In fact, write in a way that scares you." Bulbul advised.

"She's right. Forget the rules! Rules are for editors. You just write, write and keep on writing Prags and watch as the magic unfolds." Tanu spoke as she came and hugged her.

Pragya looked at them with moist eyes. Their words had given her a renewed confidence to write again. It gave her the courage to pursue her dream again. "Thank you. Thank you so much girls." she got up and moved towards her table. "Well, I guess I should start completing what I started. Don't kill me if it sucks." she says jokingly.

Bulbul smiled. "It will be great, I'm sure. Besides, we're here to help, right Tanu?"

Tanu nodded. "Yep! Besides, like someone great said, 'the worst story you've written is better than the best story that is never written'."

"Ahaan! Nice lines. Who said it by the way?"

"Meh... Who knows? Probably me maybe?" 😆

#10 years later#

"Wow! Look at the people here."

"I know, right? The crowd's huge!"

"Yep! After all, they don't want to miss their favorite author's panel."

"Haha... agreed Bulbul." Tanu responded, giving her a high five.

"Miss Bulbul, Miss Tanu, please come this way. The guards have cleared out the way for you all to pass."

They thanked the man and headed downstairs. As they walked through the parted crowd, people turned to look at them in glee and surprise as both were well known writers. They were just as well known and successful as the person sitting at opposite side, signing autographs.

Tanu and Bulbul reached the person. She was busy in signing a book for one of her fans.

"Oho! Someone seems busy being famous." teased Tanu.

"Aww...don't disturb her Tanu. After all, she's now so popular that she rarely has time for us." Bulbul said with a playful smile.

At once she looked up at them. Her face broke out into a broad smile and she rushed out of her seat to hug them. "Tanu, Bulbul! What a surprise! Why didn't you tell me you two were coming?"

Tanu chuckled. "We wanted to surprise you Prags." Tanu looked around. "And where is jiju? Usually he keeps roaming around you 24*7 like a puppy."

Pragya blushed at the mention of her husband. "Abhi is here in the hotel with me. He's sleeping in our room. What about Nikhil and Vin?"

Bulbul rolled her eyes. "Those two have gone for a race. The loser will pay for all the meals at lunch. By the way, did you like our surprise?"

"Like it? I loved it! This is th-" Pragya suddenly stopped speaking, looking at someone behind them. At once, she walked towards that man. Bulbul looked at the man and recognized him easily.

"Eh? Who is th-"

"Tanu shh! Let's go behind Pragya. Things are gonna get interesting."

The man smiled at Pragya, overjoyed that someone that renown was coming to talk to him. "Hello Ma'am. I'm Ra-"

"Hello Mr. Raghu Kashyap."

The man looked at her shocked. "How did you know me?"

Praygya smiled at him. "How could I not know you? In these 10 years, you may have forgotten me, but I haven't."

"Eh?"

"Try to recall. 10 years ago, you insulted and threw away the work of a girl who pleaded and begged you to give her a chance. Do you remember her? Do you...do you remember me?"

At first he looked confused. However, his eyes widened as he recalled the incident. "That...that was you?"

She gave a soft smile and nodded. "Because you didn't give the written recommendation, I couldn't publish my work. I had to establish connections, make a place for myself, and only after a lot of effort was I able to become who I am now." she told him.

"I...I..." Raghu couldn't continue and adverted his eyes.

"It took me five years to get recognition in the world of writing, five more to climb up the ladder and be who I am today. But maybe...maybe I could have come to this position much earlier if instead of pushing me away, you would have shown me the way. If you had pointed out my faults and helped me improve them instead of insulting me. And maybe...and maybe if you had done that, today you might have been standing right beside me rather than stand here as mere audience."

She backed away and gave him a bitter smile. "All we writers want is a bit support and encouragement. I'm glad and thankful to all my fans and readers who have given me the support, the strength, the encouragement. We writers create, but readers are the ones who complete it. And I am thankful to all of them. And in a way, you helped me realize that as a writer, I should write every single word in my soul. Because I'm a writer. And it's not what I do, it's who I am." Pragya smiled and left him.

Raghu looked down in regret. "I...I'm sorry." he looked up as he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Um...yes?"

"So you're Raghu, right?" asked Tanu.

"Yes."

Tanu smirked. Raghu looked at her in confusion. However, it lasted only for a few seconds. His face of scrunched up as he hopped in pain, holding his leg.

"Serves you right! Wanted to do that 10 years ago." Tanu said with a sinister smile, finally happy to get a chance to stomp on him with her sneakers. She turned around and merrily walked away towards Pragya and Bulbul. They looked at her with a 'when-will-you-ever-change?' look. "What? He deserved it!"

They heard a commotion from the entrance and saw Purab and Vin come towards them. Vin seemed overjoyed while Purab looked like he swallowed a lemon.

"Let me guess, you won?" Tanu asked Vin as came to stand beside her.

"Yep!" Vin exclaimed happily as he hugged her, while Purab glared at him.

"Purab, I already told you not to race him." Bulbul said to her boyfriend. "Anyways, let's go wake Abhi jiju. Then, we can all have lunch together."

Pragya nodded and moved ahead, with them following. 'I've got good friends and a loving husband. I don't think there is anything more I could wish for right now. I don't think I'm short of anything.' she looked at them all and smiled. 'Yep! Nothing at all.'

**************The End*************

🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗
Dedicated to all the writers who dare to express their experiences, the world in their own words, the ones who dare to make the place a better place with their words in ink.
🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

If you liked this chapter, please consider giving your vote. Thanks!
~ 🌹 Mona 🌹