In my early days, I held a misconceived notion about writing. I thought it was all about perfect sentences, an idealistic assembly of words and phrases.

I was convinced that it revolved around sticking firmly to grammar rules like a ship rigidly attached to its anchor.

I had a picture in my head of ideas, always huge, like gigantic whales floating in the ocean of knowledge.

Eloquent expression was the gold standard, I believed if the writer’s sole purpose was to create a symphony of sophisticated phrases.

But, my journey through the realms of writing unfolded some delightful surprises.

I discovered that writing isn’t a quest for perfection, but a celebration of authenticity. Instead of constructing perfect sentences, I found joy in pouring out my heart, as it is, unfiltered and real.

The so-called ‘rules’ revealed themselves not as iron bars, but as guiding posts, there to show me the way, not to bind me. It was liberating.

And the ideas? They weren’t always gigantic whales. Sometimes they were tiny, gleaming fish, small but significant truths that often hold immense power.

But the most profound revelation was the role of the writer. Being the most eloquent speaker, it turned out, was less important than being the most empathetic listener. Writing, I realized, is about listening to the world, to others, and to oneself.

That’s what writing really is – an invitation to authenticity, a journey guided by flexible rules, a spotlight on small truths, and an exercise in empathetic listening.