"Happy Anniversary."
All his friends said it out loud amidst the claps as he stood there alone. It was this very day two years back when he had started writing. He had gathered his friends last year for a nice little celebration and this year, they remembered it by themselves.
Before he could call them, they were knocking at his door with boxes of pizza in their hand.
"Thank you everyone," he bowed a little, "Thank you for riding with me on this lovely journey. I hope we travel down many different roads in the years to come."
They cheered him all once again as he finished his speech.
Soon the music and pizza got together and the friends lost themselves in their trance. Slowly he excused himself to a relatively silent balcony. Lazing in his favorite chair with a piece of pizza in his hand, he relished back the memories of his two years journey.
It had all happened so sudden that it still felt like a dream. But he knew it wasn't. His friends inside, they knew it wasn't. He had sewed the words in a string of stories and planned to do so till the end of his life.
He was lost in those thoughts when he heard a slight shuffle beside him. It was his best friend.
She pulled a chair by his side and sat down with her own pizza. Both loved the sound of silence and they didn't try to break it for some time.
Once she finished her pizza, the words came out of her mouth.
"Why do you call it an anniversary?" she asked still chewing the last bite.
He just gave her a quizzical look.
"I mean," she explained, "It's not like you're married to your pen or words or anything, right? So why call it an anniversary?"
He knew her logic was absolutely correct, but somehow he didn't agree to that.
"I don't know," he said, "What else can I call it?"
She thought for a moment before answering.
"Since the writer in you was born on that day, why not call it a birthday?"
"Hmm...," he nodded with his fingers running over his chin. "Yeah, I can call it that too. But anniversary has a nice ring to it."
She knew no one could deter him from his thoughts. If he stuck to something, he will hold on to it.
"What do you care anyways?" he shocked her with a sudden question, "You're getting your party, right?"
And they both chuckled at the statement. At the end of the day, it was the party which was important, not the occasion.
Munching on the last slice of their pizza, they enjoyed their little party.
***
"Sometimes, there's no logic behind the things you do. You just go about them because you like them."
***
1st September 2017
It was this day a couple of years back when I wrote my first blog.
So today is the second anniversary of my writing. And to say the journey has been nothing less than a dream would be an understatement.
I started with poems and then moved to short stories after that. For a very long period of time science fiction held a big portion of my heart.
Well, time changed, I changed, and my interests changed too.
Ten word tales came into the mix. A bit of romance added itself to the short stories.
And today, you all know where I stand.
And it's all because of you amazingly lovely readers. Thank you so much for all that support you've shown in me.
Thank you.
