Women who are respected in a society, children who have an abuse free life and men who know they are much more than the shackles of their mind. Such things don’t exist unfortunately. But mind knows little about it. Mind is a free bird, it wants to scale mountains and skies and in those rarest of rarest moments imagine the mountains to touch the skies. And because mind needs this rush, we write.

We write to express what we want. We write so that when we die our mind outlives us. So that years down the line someone can open this blog and see who Richa Singh was. Someone can remember she was naughty when they read Only Thirteen others might complain she ranted too much about pseudo intellectual Armchair Intellectual someone can then laugh at her comics The right direction and her daughter can read Dear Mom to remember that her mother wrote much about her grandmom trying to be perfect but didn’t quite learn it for her own self.

Yes that’s why I write. I would want to say I write to bring about a herculean change to profess about inner peace and things sanctified but then I would know that is only the limited truth. My heart inside would laugh at my self contorted folly. I am selfish. I want to be remembered. I want people to say we miss her, lets go read something she wrote. I want them to remember me through my writings.

This is what I want. As a child I would often say to my dad ,” they won’t remember me once I die. What should I do?” He would laugh. He would of course only cuddle me and tell me all will be fine. When I was seventeen I would joke with my friends, ” There would be a time there would be two national holidays in birthday- Gandhi Jayanti and my birthday.” They too would laugh. I was known for my sense of humour and so they thought it was part of my entertaining. I was serious.

Now I wonder how would I make that possible. My childhood aspiration of nobel prize looks dismal and well my politican dreams don’t look too charming either. How the hell would people remember me? How will we have two national holidays in October?

And so I write. I write so that people remember me through my writings. So that people can say yes she was quite something. We know that because she left behind something we can all remember her through. In all my contact information I have mentioned my blog because just in case I cannot remind people after I die someone else can. “Let’s not miss her, let’s go back and relive her”.

A million times over I can say this- ” I write so I exist. I exist so I write”

Written for Write Tribe

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