Arthśāstri

The purpose of the ink that flows through the nib of my fountain pen is not to make people read.  It never was. It never will. Its only purpose is to write. Simply write. Not just for the sake of it, but for the profound insanity along with the little bit of holy vulgarity that it provides me. People can of course read, if they want to, but that’s hardly my concern. As for me, all that matters is that I write. The rest of the world can do whatever that it wants to do with it.

And there are many things about me, which would seem offensive to others. But then, such people are of no concern to me. Like, I've no religion. But I’m a highly religious man, probably, more than any “believer” following any religion out there. I’m as stiffly religious as stiff a stone is. And unlike the religiousness of “believers”, my religious fanaticism is not about having to kill another religious or non-religious man or to force him into doing something that he do not wish to. The whole idea of my religious fanaticism is all about the sole purpose of it -- the ultimate meaning of my own life, that depends on me being true to it –- to practice it with honesty as complete as the sun itself i.e. I shall live and I shall die doing that one thing, the only thing, which is the sole purpose of my life –- writing.

As for people who still wish to know me, I’ll tell you the very first thing that is there to know about me. That my father’s name is Gulab Ram Choudhary and my mother’s name is Saroj Devi. And they both are dead now. Period.

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