the choices of a very young poet/writer

a road not takenA very young member of my extended family has been selected to attend a young writers’ workshop camp in the best university in her country. She is elated. So we all are. In my family I have been the lone writer for years and now it appears she has become a sort of successor. Quite a comforting thought. I pray that she really learns something useful and decides to make this a serious hobby even if she wishes to become a scientist and not a linguist as I have suggested. She had to submit six written pieces for the qualifying selection. I believe she wrote some poems and proses/stories. When I recall my writing life I realize that I started writing stories and poems around her age too. When her grandad passed away, while preparing to go back for the funeral, she told us (in the family chat) she had written a poem for her grandad. I told her to take a picture and send via the chat. It was a well written and touching poem. I was surprised at her gift in expressing the grief and yet Biblical hope and assurance on this occasion. She will make a young writer with promising potential. Pity she wants to become a scientist or an engineer like her grandad. I too made the choice of taking another road when I decided on my own career. I did not choose literature or art stream. “The Road Not Taken” remains my favorite till today. But I did not choose that road. “It is a poem about the necessity of choosing that somehow, like its author, never makes a choice itself—that instead repeatedly returns us to the same enigmatic, leaf-shadowed crossroads.”(David Orr) Did I ever make a conscious choice and consider taking literature as my lifelong pursuit? I did until I turned twenty-one. Then I became distracted by other roads. Young as I was, I could not see beyond the bend of the road. Even though my first love was literature, like Robert Frost, “Oh, I kept the first for another day!” At that crossroad again…


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