2025 was the most chaotic year of my life, at least until now. It kept throwing one surprise after another. Before I could recover from one incident, life would hit me with the next. Somewhere in all that chaos, I found parts of myself I never knew existed. Writing was one of them.
Back then the only productive thing i was doing was going to my English coaching classes. It used to be a little escape from everything for me, one day after the class we all were just sitting together passing time .Where i decided to read something written by me for them. One of my classmate asked me a very simple question after listening it ,
Why do you write By the way?
It was a simple question , but i had no answer for that . I had never really thought about it. After I came home, that question stayed with me the entire day. I kept replaying every moment I had ever decided to write something. I remembered the first time I wrote. I wanted to make sure I would never forget the memories from my very first camp with my friends. Then I realized I had written every time there was something I wanted to say to someone but couldn’t. I wrote when I felt hopeless. I wrote when I was extremely happy. I wrote when I wanted to cry my heart out . I wrote words then gifted them to people i cared about. Somehow, writing was always there.
Isn’t it true that most of us start writing when there’s something left unexpressed? Something unfinished. Something we’ve never been able to say out loud. Or simply because, at some point, we felt unheard and Isn’t it ironic that we trust paper more than people when it comes to expressing ourselves?By the end of the day, I finally had my answer. The next time I met him, I told him,
“When my heart feels so heavy with emotions that I can’t carry them anymore, I try to put that weight onto paper as words. Somehow, the paper carries it well.”
That was my answer.
