Literature starts as a monologue, but when the ideas take shape of words it becomes an enquiry, a question that the artist asks and want to understand, and develop its comprehension in the realistic expression that is available only outside his abstract domain of imagination, literature comes into existence. This is not about telling others what he knows, but it’s finding himself what he knows and what he understands, but through the collective consciousness of the readers. Basically it is raising questions , opening windows into unknown, to comprehend what he see, to see what he know, and share aesthetics and mysteries with the reader, who is the sole reason why art comes into existence. If art was only an expression of the artist for himself this expression would not have taken shape beyond a monologue, and would have confined to his imagination, as to the artist no place is as good as his mind.
The beauty, imagery and the sensibility that is evocative from literature takes each reader to a different level of aesthetics and mystery which can be well beyond the level of the writer, because the writer only provides a mirror and each reader see the image according to his own polish of the mirror, artist is only the initiator of question but his art develops and grows well beyond his query.
