I have written so much and am still continuing the marathon race knowing no estoppel. Sounds funny and quixotic but is a reality at my own level. Some one may well ask me why the hell I am exerting so much and for what purpose or whether it is some doctor’s advice to me to continue pursuing the task unabated for health reasons. No, nothing of this sort, it is rather a sheer weakness sort of thing on my part to share with others what I think is important taking a chance that they too may like it notwithstanding the very possibility that they may not. There are writers who say they are writing for self satisfaction. I don’t think they are honest enough in their expression as such as it is an inherent weakness of any human to have sharing with others. I too thought initially that whatever I am writing is aimed at self satisfaction but then I realised that it was not exactly as such and the truth was that I had an inbuilt hankering for sharing with others whatever was my thought wave. Sharing actually elicits more of a confidence which otherwise lacks many a times at the level of self. Most tiring and cumbersome a task is writing and it acts worse when not shared. Very often I think of giving up the onerous task of writing indefatigably and then I feel a jerk within myself to reconcile that it is a necessary evil and needs to be pursued as such.