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Finding Refuge in Routine
I’m at my most peaceful when I lose myself in the rhythm of tasks. I am a person who cannot sit idle for too long. There’s something almost pacifying in ticking items off a list, or burying myself into work, that helps me distract myself from the vicissitudes of my own mind. Sylvia Plath phrased…
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The Fail-Proof Recipe to a Perfect Gift
A great gift doesn’t say “I spent a lot”; it says “I’ve been paying attention.” The good part? Creating a truly thoughtful gift isn’t complicated. Here’s my infallible recipe to a perfect present: Prep time: However long your heart takesServes: One soon-to-be ecstatic personDifficulty: Easier than it looks Ingredients 1 meaningful memory A pinch of…
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The People I Carry in My Pockets
I am a patchwork quilt of memories. A hodgepodge of people. Tucked into the corners of my mind, occupying a permanent spot, are the people who shape my everyday decisions, stitched into my daily rituals. Like the spiritual aunt who I’m reminded of every time the clock strikes 11:11, or the boy who first complimented…
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Still, I Ask the Future [Poem]
To those peering in from the future–Is the world still imbrued in blood?Are we still endlessly warmongeringAre the doors to peace still shut? Does the knife still kiss your wrist,Does the rope still hang from the roof?Do you still dream of a better future,Or has the hope abandoned you? Does death still lurk in corners,Do…
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Romanticising Life: A User Manual for the Idealists
SCENE 1INT. LATE EVENING IN MY KITCHEN Golden light spills over the kitchen counter, gilding everything around me. My phone streams jazz music, not because I like jazz, but because it feels the moment feel intentional. I stir tea like I’m in a film. I look out as if something’s about to happen – a…
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A Sliver of Solace
Behind the miscellany of coffee mugs and tea sachets in my kitchen cabinet, there’s a worn-out white iPhone 11 box. It’s tucked snugly into the corner, yellowed with time. No one else touches it. I don’t offer it to guests. On those quiet nights with a congenial silence, when the world feels like the strains…
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The Tacit Kind of Romance
I think the definition of romantic shifts like crumbling castles in the sand – shaped by the delicate hands of age, experience, culture, and the time we’re living in. What once meant serenades under a window and handwritten letters now often translates to matching Spotify playlists and responding to 3 am text messages within 0.3…
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Reasons Why I’d Survive a Horror Movie
I’ve thought about this odd topic more than I care to admit – I know for a fact that I wouldn’t be the first one to die in a horror movie. Not because I’m brave, unflinching, or capable of carrying out exorcism – I just believe that a combination of paranoia and sheer luck might…
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What I Hate About Myself
Don’t worry, this isn’t just another dramatic spiral – it’s just a casual roast session starring… me. There are days when I feel like I’m made entirely of loose threads – snagged, fraying, and far too visible. My imperfections seem so conspicuous that it’s easy to feel bitter even about my positive traits. The Little…
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The Fear in Our Footsteps: Living as a Woman in India
[Trigger Warning: Mentions of rape, brutality, and sexual assault] An average of 85 rape cases are reported on a daily basis in India. These exclude the cases that were never voiced – the stifled screams, the muffled violence faced by Indian women on a daily basis. We’re taught to fear the outside world before we…
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“There is no greatness where there is not simplicity, goodness, and truth.”
– Leo Tolstoy
