Stability, and not him

Therapy has been insightful for me in some ways more than others. My therapist and I talk about quite a few things, I use my time with her as a means to unpack my thoughts, challenge my beliefs and work through emotions. But something she said to me during our last session has stuck with… Continue reading Stability, and not him

UvA acceptance

I can still somewhat remember the evening I got into university. It was in February, I think. Nothing extraordinary. I remember walking from the living room and into my room, plopping down at my desk. I opened my laptop, and there it was, sent just a few minutes ago. An email from the University of… Continue reading UvA acceptance

I lied

*written a short while ago, I can't remember exactly when I lied today. About two weeks ago, while cleaning the living room of the apartment I share with my roommates, I think I broke the hand grip thing on a pot lid. Of course, it wasn't intentional, and I must've dropped it or something. I… Continue reading I lied

Rejection

Rejection is not pretty. I don't like it, and I don't imagine that anyone else does either. To me, rejection feels a lot like failure. And I don't like failing. I think my whole life, whether it is personal or academic, revolves around me doing things that minimise my chance of failure. I do not… Continue reading Rejection

The world killed the poet in me

I think the world has killed the poet in me. Or rather, the world has killed the poetry in me. As I grow older, I find myself becoming more practical, sensible, and logic-driven than I was as a child. As a child, I had my head up in the clouds, I loved poetry, I had… Continue reading The world killed the poet in me

Moving out

It's 8:53 AM on Monday morning, August 15, 2022. I have to move out of my little studio by noon. That's 3 hours and 7 minutes to go. 3 hours and 7 minutes until this little studio apartment is no longer my home. It's breaking my heart a little. This is very personal to me,… Continue reading Moving out

How my father affects my YA life

When I was a toddler, I built an incredibly strong bond with my father. He would read me books, from cover to cover. He would tell me the night time stories he grew up listening to. And him and I would, nearly every weekend, have our father-daughter time in our red Santro, on the way… Continue reading How my father affects my YA life

Hi S,

Hi S,  How are you doing? You probably don’t read my blog, but I felt like writing you this letter anyway. It’s been two and a half years since we parted ways. And it’s been a little over two years since I have seen your face. I hope you’re doing well. I hope you’re happy… Continue reading Hi S,

My Parisian fairytale

So, I was in Paris for about a week. Five days to be exact. The trip was absolutely magical. Genuinely, it was ethereal. I fell in awe of the city, the people and the atmosphere. I like big cities, I grew up in one. Paris felt like being transported back to India in the confines… Continue reading My Parisian fairytale

French boy

I met a French boy exactly a week ago. I looked at him and immediately knew I liked him. He was different from most men I've been attracted to in the past. Quiet, shy, smiles to himself when he's thinking and laughs as a defence mechanism. He was cute. Seemed a little inexperienced with girls… Continue reading French boy