Writers around the globe are withheld to a dilemma of depression, whether it be some scale of sadness, a tale of grief, a trampled time of yore, an abandonment to the luxuries of life, unfulfilled psychological needs, association or involvement with any degree of violence, any range of maltreatment , a victim of any category of abuse or neglecting tackled. Beyond the melodious writings is a vision not true as steel, but vivid spiced with an overpowering aggravation.

It may not only be the psychological anguish paraphrased but it can also be a slight parental or peer pressure compressing the emaciated soul or executing immense burden in the layouts and folds of the mind. Any forcible weight released by guardians, co-partners, friends or in cases, siblings and relatives guarantees a response from the Sufferer in the form of a pen held with ink in luxurious waves. Fears and phobias may also lead to such an achievement. A phobia of heights, water, and Inferiority complex e.t.c may shape the writing in the structure of a day to day practice of writing diaries.

Depressions intercourse revealing anxiety depression attacks or any psychic development may satisfy the capacities of flowing ink. It is observed that most youths seem to take off their day to day frustrations, their moods of discovering haunting fears and horrors on their younger siblings. These practices are discovered by parents, conversed, discussed and sorted out. If not, they develop into wider habits and lead to crimes and other horrible exercises or develop the victim with the designation of a bully. This does not; however fill the wounded with any sort of writing skills. However, the more it is secretly and decently discovered that those who exhibit their frustration in the form of scratching their hands with a sharp instrument or knife or any sort of psychic exercise as in crushing glass or clutching their fist straining the palm or spitting blood is a sign or is an element of virtuous capacities to write.

Lovers, probably in some cases tend to aim towards the objective of sketching motioning layers and exposing the world through blocks and letters. The lovers are definitely not those who express regular love letters, pass notes to loved ones during lessons or take birth control pills but those who carve their loved ones names hidden under their sleeves and those who break up ties with relatives and guardians seeking to marry their target.

It is also discovered that people who take up to drugs in some cases as a medication but in most as to tear away their worries and those who are seen in the bars, asking for heavy champagnes and grasp bundles of old newspapers to chatter nonsense at and not those found drinking liquor at the live nude bars, may also prefer taking up a profession with ink. Interviews and various postings also display that people in order to take refuge from the sorrows when their loved ones expire donate themselves to this era of expressing.

Compressed under the heavy burdens, restrictions and various other molten lavas they seek to find light at the end of tunnels. They usually fail to find that though. They doom themselves to solitude, feel abandoned and turn to scripting, writing, quoting even singing. They fill pages and pages of their daily diaries often wetting those white leaves with drops of tears which remain unshed. It is not however assured that every single human breathing on this earth the sufferings or going through such a passage guarantees such work but very few who live up their episodes, claim themselves to this profession. These spirits since their adolescences grasp words from their ladybirds ‘Peter and Jane’ and are fond of pictures not necessarily they be glossy, 3 dimensional or 26 bits colored but they may be black and white or faded. As they grow by inches they explore series of Enid Blyton and imagine the concentrated mysteries. They develop liking towards Harry potter series. With the maturing age, they read and re-read develop their minds by analyzing the sisters, imaginative and skilful techniques from charlotte Bronte, some nonsense combined with haunted sculptures form Emily Bronte and explore other readers. They claim the thin volumes of full house a package of junk and garbage with gross bombs, ultimately nonsense. As they grow they secretly read the series by Dave Pelzer, and grasp the fluid monstrous writing from Judith McNaught. They grow to be fans of robin Cook, acknowledge the meaning of the various books by Fyodor Dostoevsky. They look deep into the eyes of the man on the cover of ‘the idiot’, and imagine the sorrow buried inside and make him find the gleam. They are truly not those who seek for the moon to fulfill their wishes but those who admire its light and ask it to wait by their window until they fetch their pad and a sketching charcoal.

Readers, it is only according to my experience, reading and measurements that I discover such a mystery. One cannot be sure of such a film beyond the writers, but it is unfortunately true that poets gone by in Pakistan, God Forbid were drunkards. They drank and they wrote. They filled themselves with pleasure from heavy whisky and exploded on the papers. The calligrapher, the famous sadequain was a holy sinner. He wrote verses from the Quran all over the walls and was surely drowsing dead.

Quoting syed Amir, Professor James Kaufman compared the longevity of poets and writers from several regions of the world to other ranges of profession. His findings were published in 2003 in the journal Death Studies (27:  813-821). It is likewise noticed that poets, writers and composers have a shorter lifespan than other professionals. I agree to it, only because this profession involves what gives birth to these occupations. They commit themselves to an era to escape, from the glowing fire. They are dangerously heavy minded and are immune to nothing but are exposed to everything.

Michael Jackson along with his four brothers were crushed in the huge family, revealed it through music. Finally Michael and Janet, Jackson found peace in music. Michael Jackson was so deeply affected being the smallest of the brothers that he exposed a high rate of frustration and agony and lead to being the King of music. Janet Jackson even was a hit in the industry of music.

Such a scenario also conflicts the poets. It was with the publication of a book of poetry titled Birthday Letters, British poet laureate Ted Hughes broke 35 years of relative silence about the tragic suicide of his first wife, American writer Sylvia Plath. Hughes had published little and granted very few interviews on the subject of Plath, who killed herself in 1963 at the age of 30 shortly after separating from Hughes. Many Plath fans and scholars have assigned much of the blame for her death to Hughes.

Almost all of the 88 poems in Birthday Letters are written to Plath, addressing everything from their love affair to his extramarital infidelity to Plath’s mental illness and obsession with her dead father. Plath survived one suicide attempt at the age of 20, and later wrote about the experience in the acclaimed novel The Bell Jar (1963). Hughes also writes about it in the poem “18 Rugby Street”:

In the roar of soul your scar told me—

Like its secret name, or its password—

How you had tried to kill yourself. And I heard

Without ceasing for a moment to kiss you

As if a sober star had whispered it

Above the revolving, rumbling city: stay clear.

These mysteries associated with immense undiscovered sense show some cryptogram. Those who are professional with words may choose the light of singing and those experienced with blocks and letters may choose writing. This theory necessarily doesn’t apply to all, I reiterate, it may be 20% true or probably 0.5% reality. This means that the matter and the facts neither contain heavy evidence nor may seem practical. It may be completely weird for some minds but some readers may broaden their minds and sights, look far beyond this article, imagine, analyze, ponder and meditate and come with some conclusion, devoting a slight percentage contribution supporting this inference. After all JK Rowling overcame her poverty after her divorce from her husband, writing in a coffee shop, the novels of magic and mystery. A great example I would like to frame here is of the great man Fyodor Dostoevsky. He was a man who lost his mother in his youth, and eventually his father was murdered. He spent a miserable time, suffered from epilepsy and fits, because of participating in a political circle he was sentenced to death. At the last moment, he survived and was addressed to live again in a prison in Siberia. Somebody who spent waiting for the blade to crash his throat on the altar of sacrifice, somebody who experienced the three seconds of silence and awe, imagine was given another life. Imagine yourself in the situation, wouldn’t you have already passed out, wouldn’t you have felt internally, spiritually and physically vacant. Wouldn’t you feel as if let alone happiness but every abstract positive or the apposite was sucked out? It was in these feelings and these happenings in the midst of Siberia he wrote some of his books. He sets an inspiring and a high set of example, and until today we should maintain high regard with an immense salute towards the man.

Another man I would like you to acknowledge is Dave Pelzer who wrote his experience as the thousand of the many children who underwent an era of great child abuse. He writes with immense madness, and exhales his frustration in the three series. It is only an internal hero who thinks of himself as a super man, only to encourage his legs to walk to complete the dish washing when he has been forced to drink ammonia, burnt on a stove, pierced with a sharp knife, washed with a baby pamper and made to sit with his hands underneath in the sun. Common Hollywood examples include the great Drew Berrymore, who was a victim of drugs and cocaine and struggled to maintain the heating relationship with her mother. She eventually found her way through acting.

My regards go out to all such people who adopted this profession on my hypothesis, those who are encouraging themselves to come up or those who are frightened to do so and those who consider my article as of immense value and worth and realize a new degree of violence and to seek out in the buried depths of such people. It may not be important to acknowledge but is necessarily important to realize that there are only a few people like Kamila shamsie (as she portrays) who may be so calm and relaxed with clean internal sectors.