“Belief consists in accepting the affirmations of the soul; unbelief, in denying them.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson
My planner is pastel pink in colour. I chose it so that every time I lay my eyes on it, early in the morning, I feel peaceful and calm. Maybe even happy. Many a time, I’ve held that tiny book close to me and sighed in relief. Thank god for planners.
But the unfortunate truth is I am somewhat of a control freak. And for people such as me, planning isn’t just an activity, it’s a religion.
When I wake up, the first…
And some valuable tips for your new home.
When I was eleven years old, moving out seemed unbearable.
Remember Belle from Beauty and the Beast who sang about the monotony of her little town? I was the exact opposite of her. I wanted to live in one place. I wanted to cultivate a long-lasting relationship with my home. Looking back, it makes sense that I felt that way.
As a child of immigrant parents, I moved countries twice. Since we had to rent a home, we moved house innumerable times at the end of our lease. …
I used to be a tiny puzzle piece in a large joint family.
Every decision was turned inside out, dismissed at least once and vetted at least twice. What churned out of the family machine wasn’t a one-size-fits-all solution but a tough compromise.
Our neighbours used to be our friends. We would bustle about, door to door, plates of delicious food in hand, ready to eat together at a cramped dining table.
Time moved on and from little towns, we moved to sprawling cities.
Today, I stand alone at my window gazing out at the sky rising above the glassy…
I stood outside my classroom. A crime scene sprawled out before me; my blue lunchbox shaped like an oyster shell lay face down on the floor. All the food inside, chicken and rice had spilled out in different directions — some of it had splattered on to the wall staining the milky white plaster a turmeric yellow.
I stared and stared until the ringing in my ears formed a shrill congregation with the school bell — signalling that lunch was over. After a few minutes, the world came back into focus. …
It’s a truth universally acknowledged, that a human being in endless isolation, must be in want of social interaction. Or is it?
Diving right out of my last post on introversion, this time I’d like to address how the unprecedented pandemic became the perfect opportunity to foster my reading habit.
I used to be an avid reader but I lost the habit momentarily during my university years. From the time I entered campus till the day I left, my life was a whirlwind of social activities, group assignments and information dumps that left me exhausted. Moreover I was doing a…
At the age of four, I came to the conclusion that something was “odd” about my parents. All my friends’ parents were always going out during festivals and getting together during the weekend. But my parents were somehow allergic to these parties and were perpetually racing to get home. They’d go so far as to take an occasional “vacation” from social events after attending one such gathering.
It’s funny how the unconscious bias that accompanied introversion was so prevalent in society that even a four-year old could pick it up and mirror that behaviour. …
I code for a living. When I’m not knee deep in bugs, I enjoy reading books, sketching and writing for change. My kryptonite is a fluffy cat.