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Nayana pored over the latest muse, her mind quickly conjuring up several images of the final picture. She closed her eyes briefly to pick the one closest to her heart. It was like a jig-saw that needed several pieces to be infused as a whole.
The browser on her laptop had several tabs opened, each opening up a new dimension to her train of thoughts, throttling them to their destination through the route that Nayana simultaneously charted out in her creative mind.
Nayana cherry-picked her words and strung across a lovely tapestry of nuanced writing. She moved her critical eye over it, tying up loose threads, and adjusting the detailing. Satisfied, she took a deep breath and braced herself for the final stage. She had to let go.
As she let her labour of love travel through the digital space, Nayana imagined with anguish her label over it being peeled off, to be glued on with a different name. Sigh, the life of a ghost writer!
Lovely one Uma, and I understand the emotions so well :)
ReplyDeleteThanks a lot, Charmaine. Glad to see you here. Yes, only a writer can understand the pain :-)
DeleteAwww, I know what that feels like. May Nayana have enough of her own bylines soon!
ReplyDeleteThat's a lovely wish, Shailaja. Amen to that <3
DeleteIt feels like a surrogate mother I guess!
ReplyDeleteCannot even fathom what a surrogate must feel like, but I guess it's a close analogy, Jaish :-)
DeletePoor Nayana! What's the reason behind being a ghost writer though?
ReplyDeleteHey Soumya, so good to see you :-) hmm..well, as for Nayana, sometimes your work demands you to be one!
DeleteHey..this one was great! After all the hard work she put in, seeing someone else's signature stamped on her work must be heartbreaking!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Shilpa..it happens often in the work scene and while it's nothing to be taken personally, it's not a happy thing either :-)
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