Years ago I decided that after spending 4 years of critical appreciation of other people’s work, I’ve had had enough of sifting through and analysing other people’s work. I longed for a return to my initial draw to literature, specifically how the work of others moved and inspired me in return to create works of wonder, profundity and beauty. That was the attraction of literature to me and definitely not an endless cycle of critical appreciation. Although I was offered the pathway to teach, that is not my true calling. The offer to teach did not stir any desires or ambitions in me. I would rather inspire others through my creative works just as those before me had done.
I aspired to create, to have my own spin to concepts and what I needed was a handle to work on them and then spread the branch of possibilities. So I walked away from a possible life of teaching, I turned away from a possible life of academic learning concerning literature and decided thereon that I preferred to be a writer. Many things have come to pass creatively since then. Those works of poetry that I dreamed about, they have been written. Those stories weaving philosophy, action, comedy and spirituality, that too had been written. What’s left now is to continue in the multiple branches that I still gravitate towards. I still am predisposed towards philosophy, poetry and a mash up of genres in storytelling. As we go about this life, we strive to leave behind our legacy which we bequeath to humankind.