Shh! Not A Writer.

                                                    You know those weekends where your to-do list is basically screaming, and you’re just… lying there? Yeah. That was me. A whole mountain of work sitting on my desk, judging me silently (loudly), and I still chose to rot in my hostel room like a decorative plant (atleast the plant has some purpose). And in that glorious state of academic decay, I decided, why not make it worse by doing something better? So, I put on a movie. Not just any movie, the OG movie made for all the delusional single girlies out there, Bro! Girl! Bestie! WHO allowed this film to read me like that? (ded inside)           Every dialogue felt like someone had slapped me with a truth I had specifically not ordered. Like I’m there, wrapped in my blanket, and the movie is like, “Hey, babe, let’s unpack a...

          There are certain moments in life that don’t look dramatic from the outside, there is no cinematic soundtrack, no slow-motion effect, no black-and-white filter. But inside? Inside, everything freezes. The world pauses, as if someone had hit the cosmic “buffering” button. I recently came across a list of these moments, and honestly, it unlocked something. Not in the cute "omg spiritual awakening" way, but in the "oh, so THAT’S why I’ve been feeling weird at 2am" way.           And the thing is: we live in a time where we’re constantly rushing, scrolling, swiping, refreshing, pretending we’re fine. So, these tiny freeze-frames? They matter more than ever. They’re the only reminders that we’re actually alive , not NPCs in our own lives.        Here’s the thing about these moments: Some are painfully sharp. Some are unbelievably soft. All of them are profoundly human. And yet… we barely acknowledge...

                      Humans , at our core, are wired for connection. It’s literally our default setting. From the moment we’re born, we reach out for touch, for warmth, for someone who looks back and says, I see you. Our lives become a collage of these tiny human links: conversations, shared meals, cultural rituals, inside jokes, chaotic group chats, late-night calls, and the quiet comfort of knowing someone is simply there. No matter how “ independent ” we pretend to be, nobody truly wants to live in complete isolation. We crave connection the way plants crave sunlight.           However, the strange thing is that, despite yearning for connection, we’re living in a time when  it feels harder than ever to maintain one. People we speak to every day can fade into strangers without warning. Someone who once felt like a permanent fixture suddenly becomes an occasional notification. Rela...

            There are days when life feels like a classroom with two teachers arguing at the front. One is Dostoevsky , stern and intense, insisting that truth, no matter how painful, it is the only way to truly live. The other is Kafka , quiet but tired, saying softly that illusions are sometimes kinder, that not every truth deserves to be faced. And you sit there, wondering which one to listen to, knowing that both sound right depending on what day it is.                                    Dostoevsky’s words strike a nerve. “It is better to suffer and know the truth than to be happy in a delusion.” There’s a brutal honesty in that line. He’s the voice that tells you to stop pretending the job you hate will suddenly fulfill you, or that a one-sided relationship will one day balance out (oh, you've got to be kidding me). He represents that moment when y...