Every time someone tells me I should write more, I reply almost instantly, in the funniest possible tone, “He he, I’m not a writer.” Come to think of it, I really am not. I only write when I’m engulfed by some extreme feeling. Extreme sadness, extreme happiness, extreme anger. Well, let’s scratch happiness from that sentence, because who are we kidding? If I’m extremely happy, I’d rather be out celebrating with good old Gin.

Usually, it’s pain that translates best into any creative output. Not that I feel better after penning down my destructive sad thoughts, but I like the distraction it brings me for that time being.

It makes me feel like a third person, in a different space and time, and helps me look at the whole situation from a very different perspective. It’s like me writing a very real story that I can totally connect with. That’s probably the reason why so many people tell me they can relate to my writing.

I’m not a big risk taker. I wouldn’t say I’m modest either, because one can only be modest when one is quite good at something. Haven’t we all had that scenario where someone tells you “You are really good at this” and we look behind to check if they are really talking to us?

My first response is utter disbelief, which is followed by extreme embarrassment further followed by lame attempts of self modesty. That’s just usually how it goes.

You see, it’s so hard to actually believe you are good at something. I put some thought into this and spoke to a few people on this topic. Interestingly, there are a lot of people who feel the same way. Not my friends though, my friends are cocky bastards and I only wish I could be as cool as them.

Some pearls of wisdom that I received from them was that it was okay to have self doubt, everyone goes through that. But it’s important to not dwell over it and move on quickly to your next creative pursuit. One guy also let me in on a little trick that he says works for him. “Feed your ego” he says, “When you start choosing your ego over self doubt, you are actually tricking those negative voices in your mind.” It’s like, if you tell yourself that you are good at something long enough, you actually start believing you are good at this shit.

Another genius of a friend disapprovingly nods his head while he says, “Good or not, it’s important to put your art out there. Every art deserves an audience. Artists should always be encouraged”.

This kinda scared me a little bit. Don’t we all remember the “Bieber roast”? So the next time he says, “You are really good, Ms. D.” I’m gonna politely remember the inevitable.

But what is heartening is, the more people I speak to, the more I realise I’m not the only one going through this. Some are as clueless as me, some have very creatively overcome this block to create brilliant art, and some are still silently working up the courage to take their very first step. (It’s a harsh world out there, I understand!)

Some of these folks are so inspiring in the sheer way they respond to criticism and divert it all into creating better art. I wonder how they do it. I’d rather go eat 2 full plates of mutton biriyanis and convince myself I suck.

And for all those, yet to take that first step, you might think you are in a safe zone. I have been there. You and I both know, it might be safe but it’s as restless as waiting for the next season of Game of thrones.

You want it SO bad but you are SO scared of what’s gonna happen next. I used to feel the same way about doing anything. I stuck to the safe, the tried and the tested.

Well, having taken the first, second and a few further steps, I cannot tell you “It gets better” because it does not. I’m still restless, and I still dread about what’s coming next. But you know what?

It’s OK! It’s scary but it’s also satisfying. You might be the next Bieber or the next Lennon- no one can really say, but wouldn’t you want to atleast give it a shot?

I wanted to. And I did.

I might have to travel down a very long road before I can actually believe I’m good at something. Till then it’s always gonna be “Who, me? Seriously?”

And that’s ok. I guess. This too shall pass.

Do you guys suffer from the “Who, me? Seriously?” Syndrome too? How do you handle it? Biriyani or meditation – what works better? I’d love to hear your thoughts on the same. My cocky friends aren’t of much help.