It seems as if it has been ages since I have held a pen in my hand, been ages since words have joined together to form a poem, been ages since thoughts have poured in to take the form of a short story.

Where has my writing muse disappeared? Has it fled away with the peace of my mind. Sometimes I wonder when would it come back to me, bring along the peace of mind, I so desperately seek. When would the time come when alphabets would once again dance joyously on the paper, a poem would be born, when would thoughts conjure up characters that would revolve around the space of my mind and be a part of the world I create with my imagination. When reality would merge into the world of fiction.

Books by Arti Honrao

Depression is REAL

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