Should I Read This Piece Of Writing

Which is the most creative piece of writing you have ever read?

Am i allowed to share my own lines?From Moonlight PebbleThere will be smiles, there will be cries.And there will be eyebrows, dancing on your eyes. (This depicts different emotions and expressions we feel and show in life)All this will happen, when you will travel.But there will be times, through the journey of your fable.When you won’t have Diamonds but you will feel happy.Standing in water, holding the moonlight pebble.From MaaGhabrahat toh aaj bhi hoti hai...Par kisi ko nahi batata hoon...Darr ko jebon mein chupa kar...Samajhdariyan odh so jata hoon...TranslationI still feel fear…But I don’t tell anyone.Hiding my fears in pocket…I sleep wearing sagacity.Read them here The Incoherent Writer

Can you tell the best piece of writing that you ever read?



When you read back a piece of writing you have done a while back, do you read it and feel as if it was written by someone else?

This is normal, and is precisely why we recommend you put your first draft away for three months before attempting to read or edit it. That feeling you reference gives you an honest objectivity toward your work, and it allows you to identify both strengths and weaknesses in your writing.The experience is even more pronounced when you minimize the times you are going back through your manuscript at all during the writing of the first draft, and something else happens when you do this: it is more difficult to tell the differences in the passages written on the days you were struggling and those when the words came flooding out of you. This makes a strong argument for pushing through on the days when writing is a struggle, since you were wrong in assuming the struggling sessions would be obvious on the page.

What is the most beautiful piece of writing that you have ever read?

One of the most beautiful piece of writing that you have ever read is a poem -All The World’s A stage by William ShakespeareAll the world's a stage,And all the men and women merely players;They have their exits and their entrances,And one man in his time plays many parts,His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchelAnd shining morning face, creeping like snailUnwillingly to school. And then the lover,Sighing like furnace, with a woeful balladMade to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,Seeking the bubble reputationEven in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,In fair round belly with good capon lined,With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,Full of wise saws and modern instances;And so he plays his part. The sixth age shiftsInto the lean and slippered pantaloon,With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wideFor his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,Turning again toward childish treble, pipesAnd whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,That ends this strange eventful history,Is second childishness and mere oblivion,Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.Source: 8 famous english poems that you ought to have read!