“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart- I am, I am, I am” Her name, her literary spirit still beats. About and within, perhaps louder. Sylvia Plath is the most dynamic and admired poet of the 20th century, albeit posthumously. Her life wound precariously between light and dark, both of which she would record in writing. Raw and personal; complex albeit simple, Sylvia continues to intrigue many. So much so, only she could get close to deciphering her life of acclaim. Presenting to you, dear reader- ‘Plath by Plath’. “I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beck- oned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant profes- sor…I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. “ Sylvia never settled for less. Even as her figs fell, she caught them and managed to sneak each into her bag. From being hailed as a gifted student from her earlier days, Plath crafted her way that in the years-long following would carry such an interest to a vast audience who in any shape or form had even the slightest inclination to poetry and literature. “I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.” However akin to these words of hers, outside her creative brilliance, lurked a mammoth of dark intensity that in some ways became, if not the most sought-after detail in her short life.