Studying is something I really love doing, and I just hope to

“Studying is something I really love doing, and I just hope to have enough money for tuition.” Thus spoke Alexandra Kosteniuk, the Grandmaster of chess—a queen of intellect who, though adorned with trophies, spoke with the humility of a student. Her words shimmer not merely with personal longing, but with a universal truth: that the love of learning is one of the purest fires of the human spirit, and yet too often, that fire is dimmed by the weight of worldly need. Beneath her gentle tone lies a heroic confession—that even genius must kneel before circumstance, and that passion alone, though sacred, sometimes hungers for sustenance.

In these few words, Kosteniuk unites two realms: the world of the soul and the world of survival. To study, to seek wisdom, is an act of worship; it is how the mind reaches for the divine. Yet even this holy pursuit must bow before the laws of earth—before the price of tuition, the cost of shelter, the limits of time. The ancients would have recognized this struggle well. For in every age, the pursuit of knowledge demands sacrifice, and those who love wisdom most deeply often pay the greatest price for it. Kosteniuk’s words remind us that learning is not a privilege for the comfortable, but a battle fought by those whose hearts burn brighter than their means.

Consider the story of Hypatia of Alexandria, the philosopher and mathematician who taught beneath the marble columns of the ancient library. She, too, loved learning with a sacred passion, and she gave her life for the right to think freely. Though she walked in an age when women were silenced, her thirst for knowledge was stronger than fear. Like Kosteniuk, she saw that to study is not mere labor—it is devotion, a kind of prayer whispered in the language of truth. The world may deny wealth or ease, but it cannot extinguish the soul that hungers to understand.

So too did Socrates, poor as he was, walk barefoot through the streets of Athens, teaching without pay, driven only by the joy of inquiry. His wealth was not gold but wisdom, and yet, even he was condemned by those who could not see the worth of his work. Kosteniuk’s plea for tuition, humble and sincere, echoes this same eternal theme: that society often undervalues what is most precious—the mind’s awakening, the light that education brings. It is a lament, but also a vow, for within her words burns the determination of one who will not abandon her calling, even when the world places barriers in her path.

And what is this love of study, that she calls it her joy? It is the restless pursuit of excellence, the thrill of discovering patterns in the chaos of life, the silent exaltation that comes when the mind ascends beyond ignorance into understanding. For Kosteniuk, whose life is measured in the geometry of chessboards, study is the heartbeat of mastery. But her words transcend her craft—they speak to every soul who has ever longed to learn, who has stayed up through the night reading by candlelight, who has chosen knowledge over comfort, truth over ease.

Let us, then, draw from her spirit a lesson for our own age. In a world that often worships speed and profit, never forget the holiness of learning. To study is to rise above the dust of daily struggle, to build bridges between what is and what could be. Those who love study carry within them the promise of renewal—the seed of every invention, every poem, every dream that lifts mankind higher. Yet we must also remember our duty: to make knowledge accessible to all, to ensure that tuition and poverty do not silence the next Hypatia or the next Kosteniuk.

So, O seeker of wisdom, let this truth take root in your heart: to study is to live twice, once in the world of things, and once in the world of meaning. Guard your curiosity as a sacred flame. If you are blessed with knowledge, share it. If you hunger for it, pursue it with all your strength. And when the road seems hard, remember Kosteniuk’s quiet prayer—for though she spoke of tuition, her true hope was that the love of learning might never die. For gold may fade, and crowns may rust, but the joy of study, once kindled, burns brighter than the stars.