Inkblot

I almost forgot it was Wednesday today, even after anticipating writing on this day for the whole of last week. Fortunately, I realised it now, and I don't have to regret it tomorrow. Waiting for something for so long and then forgetting it on the exact day isn't new to me. My weird brain does this often. I've even forgotten close ones' birthdays and anniversaries sometimes. I don't know if my puppy-face "sorry" cools them down, but clearly, I should train my brain better. Never mind. Last Sunday, I had a topic in mind to share here, something I was genuinely excited about. And then… I forgot it. Not even a small effort was made to recall it. I am honestly fed up with my bizarre memory. It works like a lazy librarian who misplaces the most important books and then shrugs like, "Not my problem." Last week, despite having a heap of work, I doom-scrolled. Endlessly. Mindlessly. And I realised something I didn't quite like admitting to myself, I ...

How do I start? The last few days felt like a roller coaster of emotions. Not the fun amusement park one, but the kind where you scream a little and laugh a little and question your life choices somewhere in the middle. I felt like writing every single day in the past week. Extreme emotions have a strange side effect: they push you toward a pen. Or a keyboard. Or at least toward opening a notes app and staring at the blinking cursor like it owes you an explanation. It felt like the perfect time to resume writing a daily diary. I am a little insecure about using the word resume here. I should probably say I could have started again . Because truthfully, I have always failed at keeping up this habit. Every year on the 1st of January, I take up a brand-new diary with dramatic determination. The first page always smells like discipline and new beginnings. This year I didn’t even manage that on January 1st. But in the past, when I did start, I would last for a month or two. After that, the...

I miss Ankola very much now. If you don't know, Ankola is a small town in Karnataka where I lived for seventeen long years. Seventeen years feels like a lifetime when I count it in school bags, friendship bands, and evening walks. I finished my entire schooling in a single institute, and I had (and still have) friends there. The kind of friends who know your house, your favorite bench, and your nature. I miss watching Holi. I miss the high school quarters we stayed in, with their familiar sit outs and predictable noises. I miss my childhood friends, whose laughter still echoes in some corner of my memory like an old ringtone you never delete. Watching Suggi was a delight back then. I absolutely love the culture of Suggi and the story behind it. Suggi is a regional folk dance art form, and is performed during the harvest and Holi season, mostly by the Halakki Vokkaliga and many other communities who follow and continue the tradition with utmost respect. The dancers dress in color...

You know that moment when someone casually asks, "Who are you?" or "Where do you belong?" and your brain suddenly forgets all its vocabulary? You stand there smiling, buying time with an "errr…" or "ahhh…," as if your identity is loading on slow internet. It sounds like a very simple question, yet answering it feels like a spider crawling on your skin. At least, it does for me. To begin with, I hate the idea of introducing oneself. Back in college, when seniors asked for introductions again and again and again, I felt like punching their faces. Though I am proud of where I come from and who I am, I don't enjoy explaining myself in neat little sentences. If you ask me, people should be known slowly through time, and with casual conversations rather than through a fixed set of questions that feel like forms waiting to be filled. I often prepare answers in my head when someone asks me, "Who are you?" On the surface, it sounds simple. B...

I have the exact same feeling as a teenager who didn't show up to college for months and is embarrassed to go back. It's difficult to search for a greeting while appearing again, and that’s why and how I started with a shy line instead of a loud Hello!! It has been more than two months since I wrote for my blog. That doesn't mean I was writing something else. I had just sat back. During the course of these two months, I completed a semester exam and I have a ring shining bright on my left hand. Two months isn't a big disappearance, but it feels so because I went through so much and that makes it feel like a year altogether. When life overwhelms you, you forget your life for a while. That "while" took me two months. Fair enough! Many times, I had a very strong urge to write and I did come here and type something. But they were all left unfinished, and I didn't want to continue them when I came back. At the present, those drafts didn't make sense to me ...

How's life? I'm sorry if this made you think for a while. Alright! December alreadyyy and 2025 is going to be in the chapters of history soon! If I look back, I feel 2025 was very long for me. I vaguely remember what I did all year. All I can recall is that I cried so much this year. (You'll know why, either here or in my next blogs.) The reasons feel silly now, but back then they were massive mountains to climb. And this year, again, I haven’t fulfilled my resolutions. Every December, I feel all my resolutions were silly anyway. And of course, this time I didn’t wait for the 31st to peel off the list. Ironically, my 2025 resolutions are already in the trash can. I think I slipped into lowkey philosophy toward the end of 2024, and it shows in my 2025 resolution list. I had 21 goals, out of which 14 made absolutely no sense for a twenty-four-year-old girl. Someone could easily (mis)understand that the list belonged to a sixty-five-year-old retired lady. Even though I wrote t...