Interviewer: What inspired you to begin writing Utterings of the Soul?
Mehar Rizwan: Life itself inspired me. I’ve always been quiet around people I’m not close to, which led me to observe deeply. That silent observation helped me understand life — its beauty, its pain, and its meaning. I found peace in solitude, in talking to myself, and in quietly sharing with God. Writing became a natural outlet. I was also blessed to grow up in a secure environment where my family valued art, individuality, and reflection. They never pressured me to be someone else — only myself. That freedom shaped who I am. Over time, I began to believe I had something to offer the world. I hope my words leave behind a legacy — something that makes people pause and think, even in a small way. Because every little contribution matters, and every big change begins with something small. Utterings of the Soul is my beginning.
Interviewer: Many of your pieces feel deeply personal—was it difficult to share such vulnerability in print?
Mehar Rizwan: Not really — in fact, writing has been the easiest way for me to express vulnerability. Paper doesn’t judge. That’s what I love about it. I can lay down all my insecurities and shortcomings without fear. It’s much easier than speaking them aloud to someone. As humans, we often hesitate, even with people we trust, worrying about how they might react or perceive us. But paper listens in silence. It became my safest companion — a space where I could be entirely myself. Often, I wrote as if I were talking to God. That made the process even more calming and comforting. So, while the pieces are deeply personal, putting them into words brought peace, not fear. It felt right.
Interviewer: How do science, faith, and literature influence your creative process?
Mehar Rizwan: For me, all three inspire deep thinking. Science has shaped how I analyze and understand life, helping me apply thoughtful exploration to everyday moments. As an avid reader of both fiction and non-fiction, literature taught me the art of quiet listening — absorbing ideas without immediate response. It revealed that beneath simple conversations lie profound human emotions and universal longings that transcend age. Faith has made me humble and patient, teaching me to trust in life’s journey. Loving biology, I see science and faith as deeply connected — the intricate design of life strengthens my belief in God. This beautiful interconnection between science, faith, and literature flows naturally into my writing, enriching my creative process.
Interviewer: Do you write primarily for yourself, or with a reader in mind?
Mehar Rizwan: I’m both a writer and a reader, so I have two minds — one that writes and one that reads. When I start writing, it’s usually for myself, to explore my thoughts and feelings. But once the flow begins, my perspective expands. Writing just for myself can get limiting, so it naturally shifts to include the reader. Sometimes, when I’m reflecting deeply, the writing is purely for me. Other times, I aim to connect and resonate with readers. Most of the time, though, I write with both minds in balance — expressing my truth while also considering the reader’s experience.
Interviewer: Your work encourages introspection. How has writing this book changed you personally?
Mehar Rizwan: Writing this book was never a one-time, straightforward process. It involved a lot of editing, subtracting, and deep thinking about what to include or leave out. I couldn’t just put everything from my personal journals out into the world — I had to be intentional. This book reflects not just a year but five to six years of my writing journey, covering many perspectives and moments of self-reflection. It’s about asking myself hard questions: Am I growing with love or harboring hatred? Am I becoming egoistic or more grateful? This book is a journey of how my thoughts shaped who I am. Writing it changed me deeply. Through introspection, I learned what parts of myself to keep private and what to share with the world. It taught me the power of thoughtful self-examination.
Interviewer: Is there a particular piece in the book that holds special meaning for you?
Mehar Rizwan: Yes, there are definitely parts of the book that feel especially meaningful to me. While the whole book is close to my heart, the “Divine” section stands out the most. I’ve experienced life with faith only in name before, without truly understanding its meaning. Now, living with genuine faith, that part reflects who I am — striving to become more humble and grateful each day. It expresses my personal connection with God and what I’ve learned from it. Also, the last four poems hold a special place in my heart. I actually wrote them the day before submitting the book to the publisher. It felt like an unexpected inspiration, as if someone planted the idea inside me. Those poems are dedicated to the four people I love most in the world — a love letter and message for them. I realized I haven’t expressed my love enough in words before, mostly through actions, so this felt like the perfect way to do it in a very special way.
Interviewer: What role does silence or solitude play in your writing journey?
Mehar Rizwan: Silence and solitude play a deep role in my writing — not just as a setting, but as a source. I don’t necessarily need a quiet room to write; I often write in between moments, even in crowds. But the kind of silence I speak of is internal — an inner stillness that helps me reflect. It’s where my thoughts take shape. Silence teaches me presence. It calms intense emotions and allows clarity. It’s not about the absence of noise, but about being settled within. Solitude, too, has shown me who I am — what I hold inside, and what I can offer to the world. From this silence and solitude come my ability to listen deeply, observe closely, and understand situations with greater empathy. They shape the depth and direction of my words.
Interviewer: You mention healing as a theme — how do words help heal in your experience?
Mehar Rizwan: Yes, because I believe healing is something we all need repeatedly, no matter our age — teenagers, adults, or anyone in between. We’re human; we get hurt, heartbroken, and carry wounds that aren’t always visible. You can never fully understand someone’s depth or pain through surface-level interactions. Writing, for me, becomes a quiet way of healing. It’s a space where I can reassure myself, tell myself I’ll be okay, and process emotions I may not express aloud. Words offer comfort. Even when I’m vulnerable, writing feels like a silent conversation with myself — one that brings peace. And when someone connects with what I write, that shared understanding heals something in me too. It’s invisible, inaudible, but very present.
Interviewer: Can we expect your next project to follow a similar tone, or are you planning something different?
Mehar Rizwan: Yes, I am definitely thinking about the next project, and by the blessing of God, I hope it comes to life. I truly love the process of creating, and I’d love to explore my poetic voice even more deeply. I’m also excited to step into the world of fiction. For a long time, I’ve written and read mostly non-fiction, but recently, I’ve started to indulge in fiction on a deeper level. And it feels so real — like there’s truth even in made-up stories. So yes, I’m really looking forward to where this journey takes me next. But for now, I want to fully live this period of Utterings of the Soul.
Interviewer: If your readers could take away one message from this book, what would you want it to be?
Mehar Rizwan: If there’s one message I’d want readers to take away, it’s to remain humble, kind, and deeply grateful. No one walks through life entirely alone — what you’re feeling has been felt across generations. The universe has seen it all, yet your experience is still uniquely yours. Be thankful while time is still in your hands. Don’t wait to look back with regret. Everyone is carrying something, even if it’s invisible. So be gentle with others. Be sincerely kind, and harbour that human feeling inside yourself. Let your humility and empathy become a legacy that lives on through your words and actions.
