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Where's my Muse?

Where's my Muse? | The Sanniah Experience! (TSE)
© The Sanniah Experience! (TSE)

By Sanniah Hassan

"I am not in control of my muse. My muse does all the work."
Ray Bradbury

As a kid, I never used to like the art of reading or the people who love to read. Basically, I detested reading because I had not found my favorite book!

As I grew up, I heard so many stories from my father, my brother, my mother, and even my grandmothers. I always used to envy how they could so easily fall into place in a conversation with each other and even other people. 

As a kid, their conversations were the height of intellect for me. If I would try to imitate them I would be turned away... not by my father, not by my mother but, by my grandmother and my brother. Not because they did not want me to read but because they could not fathom how someone could not like to read.

As the years passed and I bloomed into my own "person", my love for reading (and writing) awakened from a deep slumber and I realized that I could be good at something if I just gave it due time. 

The first book that I remember reading was Pride and Prejudice by the great Jane Austen. It opened paths for me I never knew existed. Though my brother would teasingly mock me saying that I just like to pretend I have read the book but haven't actually read it, I would just shrug it off.

For I had found my muse! My muse lay hidden in Austen for years. This writer I had grown up hearing about from my father. Hearing my father admire her, among some of the greatest English writers, such as the likes of Hardy, Shaw, Stoker, Elliot, and Keats and the line goes on!

For me at the ripe age of thirteen, having lost my father, the only friend I had was a children's book... the fifth installment of the Harry Potter series. Though it wasn't the most intellectual book around, it was the one I needed at the time, the book that taught me the meaning of grief. I grieved for it as I grieved for my father. It taught me more than any human being could.

It nurtured me as my mother could not while she dealt with her own demons. It taught me about the importance of the loss. The importance of growing with one's loss. The importance of dealing with it.

It taught me so much! 

It taught me how to find myself... how to live again! and so, with reading I came alive, hoping to bloom into an aspiring writer of the days to come!



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