I write because..

At the age of six, my favourite English teacher gave me an essay titled ‘My Pet’ to write about. The six year old in me tried her very best to form sentences and impress her. Turns out, my essay had more words and less linking words. It probably didn’t make any sense. But, I was happy.

At the age of nine, my school took us to a movie, ‘The Goblet of Fire.’ That was my first exposure to the world of wizards. I was amazed to say the least, I yearned for more muggles and Hogwarts. I had found my idol, J.K Rowling. This time the J.K Rowling in me inspired me to write short stories.

By the time I was ten, I dreamt of becoming a writer, living in a far off land. Sitting in a couch, sipping my hot chocolate, thinking about the plot for my record breaking novel.

I was eleven by then, I was beginning to form average stories with decent grammar. I knew I was happy.

At the age of twelve, my parents and I shifted to another state. Obviously, I wasn’t the social butterfly of my class. So I began writing in my little journal named Ms.Journal. (Oh, come on, I found the name interesting. We name things in our childhood that we aren’t really proud of now.) I wrote to avoid feeling left out, but found my first friend there.

Time passed by..

I was fifteen, a teenager. I was turning semi-rebellious as per my parents. I began noticing how the society works- Hypocrites. My opinions weren’t heard. And so I wrote. I then began writing about trivial things. I was satisfied and happy.

Fast forward two years. Seventeen years old, 3 months away from the life changing entrance exams. This time I wrote to vent out. To let off the steam from my system.

The dream of being a writer seemed over rated. But writing still made me happy.

I am nineteen now, I’ve had hobbies like singing, drawing and gaming (even sleeping.) But the writing part has stuck with me for a long time. We are pretty tight now. 😉

I may not have a best selling novel, heck, I may not even write a book in this lifetime. But the writer in me shall always remain alive for the thoughts are too over bearing to not let them out.

Why do I write?

I write because..




It makes me feel happy.




Things I’ve learned.


So recently, I’ve been reading this book titled, ‘The subtle art of not giving a f*ck’ by Mark Mason.  Mason is kind of badass and gives a real talk pretty much like, ‘throwing a brick at your face’ The much needed prep talk for everybody. The book is pessimistically encouraging, if that even makes sense. This book even had a chapter titled, ‘The Sunny Side of Death.’

I mean seriously, this book is all about,

“In life, we have limited amount of fucks to give. So you must choose your fucks wisely.”

He says you’ll know what to give a fuck about when you know to let go of your uncertainties and embrace your fears and insecurities. World is pretty much fucked up with messed up lives. Might as well accept and live with the fact. (Too many fucks in this paragraph, Imagine how the book was.)

Now that you know, what it’s all about, I admit, I was low key agreeing to what he said. He had a point.

And I decided, I’ll share my own ‘penny for a thought’, considering it’s been a couple of years living away from my parents. That means, I might have learned something.

Right?  Maybe.  Who knows.

There goes nothing a.k.a- the things I’ve learned in a couple of years.

  1. Be careful whom you vent to, because every listening ear has a babbling mouth.
  2. Majority of the problems arise when Money is involved. Money is a very sensitive topic.
  3. Making my bed early in the morning before attending the classes enhances my sourass mood. A lot.
  4. Nobody is going to be there with you at all times. Unless you have something they want.
  5. Doing favours is one thing. Not able to say ‘NO’ is another. Learn the art of saying No.
  6. Letting out your problems is way better and healthier than bottling it up and waiting for a day for your emotions to burst.
  7. Showing care and concern to your work is NORMAL.
  8. Seeking a second opinion gets you another perspective.
  9. Don’t bruise a lecturer’/Boss’s ego. You will suffer, not them.
  10. It is wise to stay quiet in some situations rather than argue. It will only make you question your sanity.
  11. When life gives you lemons, make a lemonade’ is bullshit. You have a problem solve it, Do something. Take a step.
  12. ‘what ifs’ and ‘buts’ are for cowards. True, but there’s nothing wrong in being a little pessimistic. It shows the broader spectrum of the situation at hand.
  13. Sprite is just lemon juice with CO2 gas, so is this world, with people and their opinions. It’s just that simple, don’t worry yourself.
  14. The Piggy bank is called so because it was earlier made of a clay called, ‘pygg.’ Did you know this?
  15. Also, Pizza is healthier than burger. Surprised? Check for yourself.

Okay, I understand, the last sound pointless. But they seem totally relevant to me.




There are days when you feel like,
You need a break from your daily routine.
And then there are days,
Where you need that break forever.
You try and reach out to somebody,
But it’s in vain because,
You don’t muster up the courage to speak your mind.
Because you’re told ‘Be strong.’
That’s how everything, in this society has been pre defined.

But what good is being strong when you’re broke from inside?
Torn between the choice of what to choose and what to leave.

Confused if you have to follow your passion or make a choice.

But then, there comes a day when it all makes sense.

You realise what’s important and what isn’t.
You see how far you’ve come from the beginning when you thought everything was a mess and couldn’t be put into place.

You smile, because you are proud of yourself.

So just believe.

Believe that, in pain lies the true happiness. MentallyPain’ is just another feeling like happiness, sad, lust etc.

I believe in worrying about small stuff because they matter.
I believe love is just a reaction in the brain, but hey, opinions differ.

I believe in the old fable always, that told of old.
That at the rainbows end there’s a pot of gold.
I believe there’s some place beyond the blue.
Where the promise of Love and Peace is forever true.
I believe in miracles for I’ve known a few.

I believe in confiding to people in your life.
And hatred isn’t always a strife.
I believe the places you’ve been and things you’ve learnt makes you- You.

Because this belief is what keeps everyone going.

Reflective end.

She cares, she cries.
She fears, she tries.
At the end, she’s the one who survives.
You say she hides her emotions,
Oh my god, isn’t that a magic full of potions?
Now that you’ve begin to wonder, you question ‘why’
Nothing much would unfold, even if you pry.
You wouldn’t know, because it’s just her being shy.

You called her ‘wild’ yet you fail to notice,
She is as wild as wind.
A warrior princess,
with her purpose inclined.

Her thoughts are a deranged mess,
A beautiful deranged mess,
Of a world that defines her.
A world, that can ignite your soul,
Set fire to the sky,
And dance with the flames as phoenix rises from the ashes.

You think you are unbeatable,
Have you ever heard her thoughts that begin to sound invincible?

She sits right beside you,
Wearing a smile like a loaded gun,
A deadly combination of a mean angel and a kind devil,
You bat an eye at her from your sides and question yourself, “Is this how it’s going to end?”
Your thoughts waver as you begin to comprehend,
That she must have been a force to be reckoned.

The end of her, was a chapter of your life, like the end of days. You were the 28th of February and her the 29th, close as days, but years apart.

Because not every ‘end’ necessarily has a happy ‘end.’


There I sat in a crowded seat,
By the people who weren’t least bit neat.
I turned out the sounds with music,
But the noises inside were lighting my short fuses.
I sat there snapping my wrist band,
Trying to forget their obnoxious voices,
I rolled my eyes
As they continued to try,
Trying harder to please their surroundings.
I was once in their place,
But now I know it’s not a race.
But I will not judge.
For I’d wish to receive the same respect.
So I smile to myself,
Knowing that I’m happy to be unique.
And not everything is about being judged by others.


Overwhelming emotions.

She was there a tall slim figure standing, staring at me with her dark brown eyes and dimpled smile. Her hair caressing over her cheeks and falling on her shoulder. Although her eyes looked tired, they were still bright as ever.  She was twenty one now, a grown young woman. She was there, telling me,

“You’ve got this. Pull yourself together. You were always strong and independent. And that’s how grown ups are.”

Her mom entered the room with a glass of milk, only to find her talking to herself in front of the mirror.

Mom & Dad. Parents are such wonderful creatures. Aren’t they? They cannot see you cry, but they cry when you aren’t too well. They see you grown up beautifully, yet look at you like the same nine year old kid who was once reluctant to go to school.

I always thought growing up would be all fun and games. How I wish that were true. But nevertheless I have come to a realisation that Adults are just kids with money. Come on, everybody is a kid at heart. Don’t tell me you never liked munching on the last of your candies or watching that one movie you fangirled over.
The phase of growing had us all occupied, that we had failed to notice we had grown. The realisation hit you hard, like a splash of cold water on your face. But, it was already too late.

  • I realised I had grown up when, my opinion mattered in a family discussion.
    I realised I had grown up when, I started putting my family in front of me.
    I realised I had grown up when, when I said, the mess food was good although it was a piece of shit. So that my parents weren’t worried about me.
    I realised I had grown up when, when I said ‘I am fine.’ with a smile on my face, even though I was breaking from inside.
    I realised I had grown up when, when I accepted the reality and moved on, instead of crying over the spilt milk.

Sigh, the last one was dramatic. Wasn’t it? Let’s clear that one, for this time.
However, you get my point, right?

Being a kid was so easy, all you had to do was wake up, go to school, have fun and come back home. I couldn’t wait to grow up. Now that I’ve been an adult for just about 1 year and say 2 months, I assure you. I don’t fancy it. You might think I’ve been exaggerating it a tad bit, too long. Excuse me miss/sir, I’ve had to deal with fair amount of boomerang emotions of stress, happiness, anger and ecstasy. Humans call it life, I might have forgotten to mention that along the lines.

Every adult is a grown child who knows how to disclose their emotions a little too well.

**Caution: Do not bother reading what’s written next, if you don’t like the facts being thrown your way.**

But this phase of transformation in itself is beautiful. You think you are right and everyone else is wrong. You are keen on doing something you are told to not do. You find little joy in miniature accomplishment, Adults call it ‘The milestone to the adulthood.’ You start receiving that newly formed respect that you’ve always yearned for.

Eventually, everyone starts judging you. (But you already knew that, didn’t you?)

Oh, look at the clothes she’s wearing, she has no sense of clothing.

Look at the way she’s speaking, she has no manners.

She doesn’t speak, she must be arrogant.

Look at the way she’s responding, she must have be unaware of her relationship.

Let me make one thing clear, love. People are going to judge you no matter what. You cannot live a happy life trying to please the people around you. You will be called something or said something that you’re not, because it doesn’t fit well with their expectations.

Fear not, for thy shall always remain strong. No matter what.

Also, the look in your parents eyes changes. Just kidding, you will always remain that naughty little brat, that ate too many chocolates without their notice and got caught. HEHE.

Heartwarming, isn’t it? I might as well let you decide for yourself. Enough preaching for one post.

If you find yourself nodding to the above written paragraph, you my friend are undergoing that transformation. Good luck for your future endeavours.

Incase you are still reading me rant about adulthood and growing up despite the caution, You are curious. I like you, you little rebel. Thank you for bearing with this little random outburst of mine.

Signing off. The little kid at heart.
~Sayonara fellas! Have a grand day. 

Memory down the lane.

One fine evening, while the sun’s setting. From the window sill of your room with a melancholic view.
Wearing a gown, your raven hair turned crystal white.
Teeth tattering and a cold breeze blowing. You shall be sitting on the rocking chair. Rocking on and forth, reminiscing about the good ol’ days.
How things have changed, how life has turned out for you.
‎You’ll listen to the horn of school bus passing by your street.
‎The bell rings and the door opens.
‎You hear a pair of tiny footsteps clicking on the floor.
‎The pace fastens and you hear the voice of the child coming closer. Those tiny little fingers wraps around your neck with a cheerful greeting, “hello grandma, I’m back.”
That’s the day you will realise, the decisions you’ve made. The hearts you’ve broken , and the hearts you’ve won. Are the days you crave.
For the people you’ve lost remain in the memories you’ve made, that won’t fade.
So when that day comes, smile with no regrets. Because these are one in a billion things, you’d never wish to trade.


Presence of mind: Saves you the trouble of detention.

It was a lazy rainy afternoon, almost half past one. Math sir entered the class. The class had already begun.

Symbols and a few pieces of multiple integrals were scrawled hastily on the black board demanding everyone’s attention.

Some listening to the class, while others paid no heed, busy on their phones. The back benchers in their own world, fighting for their chance to game among themselves.

Suddenly, sir picked up two of the naughtiest students in the class(also the back benchers) to the front and asked, “What do you need to solve the question?”

By now, sir was half mad. For most of us weren’t paying attention to the class. The first one had no idea what it was about and replied, “Sir, we need wit & formula to answer the question.”

Sir then turned to the second guy and repeated the same question in a slightly irritated tone. Poor soul, a detention was assured. Everybody knew he didn’t know the answer.

But what happened next was completely unexpected and hilarious.

The second guy, unsure of himself. Smiling, in a sheepish tone replied, “Sir we need YOU to solve the question.”

There was a moment of silence in the class and then everyone burst into a fits of hysterical laughter including the angry professor himself. After a few moments, sir dismissed them saying, “You both always get away.” And, the class was dismissed. Thanks to him, the class was dismissed.

This guy might have been weak at math, oh to hell with that. But he definitely had the presence of mind to deal with the situation. Had it not been a witty reply laced with a sly hint of sarcasm, both of them would have suffered an hour long detention.

And for the rest of us? We would have had to endure his boring lecture for another half an hour.

Thinking outside of the box has definitely had it’s perks. At least in this case.


-Happy Reading. 🙂

The Introverted ME.

Dear truth seeker,

I have always been a good listener. A thinker. A proverbial introvert. Of all things hidden inside, am I confident, silent or cheerful? (yet to know.) One day one of my classmate had pointed out the obvious that I only stuck to certain group of people and didn’t make much effort interacting with others. Thanks to them, I realised how introverted I was. Nothing wears me out more than people do. With their pettiness, drama and their little lies. I am not an extrovert. Crowds bore me and people tire me. I do not wish to know who did what to whom on a daily basis. I promise you, I don’t care. Life’s complicated enough without needing to puzzle out the details of everyone’s drama. (Don’t you think so?)

No matter how sweetly I smile or how deeply I listen to. Nothing pleases me more than curling up in my bed with the company of my books and thoughts. Maybe I put together my words well, but I would rather prefer to write and free myself to expression without having the burden of interaction with others. Perhaps, I could be the chronicler of your stories. Watching you from the side lines.

They won’t know my name at the end of the day. Despite all my efforts, my appearances won’t stay. And people keep wondering if they’ve met me or not. But you  know what? A smile and a greetings a lot.

I apologise if I seem rude, distant or unconcerned. Just know that once you’ve cracked my shell, you may like what you find. I’ll even give you a short tour of what’s going on up inside my mind.


Ostello- Italian word for hostel.

*5 Months ago*

(Back during mid week of july)

Me: I am going to hostel tomorrow.

Friend: Oh, cheer up. I’m sure you’re going to have lots of fun. Besides, you get to live your hostel life to your fullest. Just like how they show in movies.

Me: We’ll get to know about that soon.

If only that were true..

*Present time*

Funny how things change so quickly. Just a few months ago I was in the comforts of my home having things done my way and the next I realise is I am stuck in the hostel. Now that I am here, I can say, it’s not how they show in films. Girls hostel doesn’t resemble a Victoria Secret’s Office. On the contrary, everyone in the morning looks like they just got hit by the bus, and dangerously in need of caffeine. You’d be surprised how effective it is. Also not everyone’s in a jealousy galore. Believe it or not, we all live together clicking selfies all day long. (Nevermind the selfie part). 

You miss home, homesick is what hits you hard. But you have your fair share of fun too. I could say it’s a bitter sweet memory to cherish, but at this point of time I really don’t know how it is. Don’t get me wrong, I like my hostel. I really do(if I say so myself) But it seems to be like an army life(seems too extreme? Guess not.) In terms of living, everyone is on their own yet, dependent on each other.

It’s not rainbows and sunshine all the time. If you weren’t a hosteller you would probably assume that the stereotyped version is how it works in reality. Well, not really..My sincerest apologies to those whose bubble just burst.Here’s what I’ve come to learn over these 5 months of being a hosteller-

  • Eating the mess food makes you immune to any kind of food.food-1

This is no  joke. There are days when the food is delicious. There are also days when you just feel like giving up on the idea of eating.

  • You become an expert in pulling night standers.

You not only know the importance of last minute studying sessions but even the night doesn’t seem like a pain, maybe because the entire hostel is up studying along with you for the test next day.

  • You know more than one way to save money.

One of the very few things I appreciate after staying in a hostel is the availability of hot water 24hrs and how to save money, trust me on this, this isn’t an exaggeration.

  • Nobody understands the importance of maggi at 1 am than us.


Ever wondered how we survived when the food wasn’t good? MAGGI!! Ever wondered who suffered the most when maggi was banned? WE, There I said it.

  • You have nicknames for everyone from the hostel warden to the watchman.

Be it secretive to your squad or open to everyone. This is true for every hosteller. Believe me, when someone’s denying it, they are either lying or they live under a rock.

  • You learn to welcome any one in any odd hours of day or night.

Two months after staying in this place I realised you don’t really have to learn or put in too much effort to welcome someone. This is something that you get used to naturally.

All that being said, at the end of the day it teaches you to be independent whether you like it or not. Also, I have got some amazing roommates. So, I don’t have much to complain about.

Aloha! 🙂