Every time I could not breathe, I wrote.
Every time I could not live any more, I wrote.
Every time I gave up, I wrote.
Every time I loved too much, I wrote.
To me, writing is synonymous with breathing.
My poetry isn’t your polished fancy bouquet that is hand-delivered. It is that wild flower swaying to the rough northern winds and still surviving, oblivious to the world outside but dancing to its own rhythm.
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Jael Varma
The author holds a Postgraduate Degree in Mass Communication. Her journey has gone from being a stock broker, to an acquisition manager, to a firm believer in alternative healing, to being a full-fledged writer. Her flair for reading started at the age of seven, and she began writing at the age of twelve.
Being a single child to a single parent who succumbed to cancer changed her perception about life. She feels every physical illness has a mental manifestation; unless we heal within, nothing outside can help us.
She believes words have the power to heal and believes in staying aligned to her core. She is a propagator of mental illness and women’s issues.
