Writing is creation. You start from a clean slate, never knowing what happens next, how best to transcribe the surging emotions and ideas erupting within yourself. Like a wine connoisseur, you taste the flavour of words, penning down the most suitable and discarding the rest. You want to make yourself heard, express yourself in a world of cacophonous nothingness. Writing becomes therapeutic, your pride swells as you see meaning transformed from nothing. Every word you write becomes treasure, you feel like a mother to a baby, protecting it, wishing at the same time people would understand and take time to appreciate its profound beauty.