fledgling

Words, those beautiful masterpieces, with letters carefully handpicked like fragrant herbs from a garden. A word can lift a soul and yet shatter hearts for good. The letters, if plucked with grace, strung together carry free emotion trapped in a heart, and some crushed under the weight of pursed lips. A word can be a weapon to glue souls together and yet rip them apart. Some inspire a warm flush of butterflies, and some a distant, forgotten ache in the heart. Many carry the smell of midnight oil and the scholar’s despair, of a battle left unconquered and unfinished. Infusing the beauty of thought in words is an art perfected by some over years, some a lifetime. I let the art soak in my blood and veins, sink deep in my heart, until I truly own and cherish it as a whole. I let it run through my fingertips and watch them create profound meaning, as the art sculpts clumps of letters into a masterpiece to leave an imprint on every witness. A pen, no greater than the humble pencil, has been ...

Hello readers, this is Maanasa here. I have a milestone to share with you - I just turned fourteen! Turning fourteen has been a confusing yet awakening experience. Speaking of confused, I have been pondering over how this milestone will be introducing me to an upgrade in difficulty and the urge that I need to push myself harder. If there's one word that could summarise my present state, it would be confusion.   I am confused now more than ever, of what the future holds ahead.  You could compare this with an eclosing butterfly, a painful yet meaningful transition of my true self. This year has been all about learning, unlearning and relearning what I have known all my life. I am in the thick of identity crisis and I'm still figuring out who I am, as I observe my younger self slowly chipping away and evolving into a more mature, future self. The beliefs and ideals I had depended on slowly began crumbling, with new experiences and new thoughts. Often, I am not sure what to b...