Inkblot

In the days when I don't feel good, I write letters to my friend who’s far away from me. Letters with no expression on my face— but filled with hope for a clearer mind tomorrow and brighter tomorrows to come. I reflect on the resolutions I’ve made, write about my hopes, hoping to leave the muddy waters still, to see my clear reflection tomorrow. I know my friend is selfless and kind; she reads every word. She has answers to my questions, and questions my decisions. She is the one I long to lean on. My friend is the future me, reading all these letters, one after another, consoling and strengthening me for everything I've been through. - Namrata  

Some incidents and memories never fade from our minds—whether they're the ecstatic ones or the ones that tug at our hearts. (I prefer not to use words like 'toxic' or 'traumatizing'—they've become overused and often magnify negativity, sometimes making situations seem worse than they are). Instead, I prefer to focus on memories that make me smile. Of course, there are also those "hard to forget" moments that always seem to pop up when I’m lying in bed, trying to fall asleep. But, I enjoy reflecting on sweet, old memories, and I often do.  So, one fine day, my parents decided to ask their almost-five-year-old daughter (me!) what she wanted to be when she grew up. The five-year-old me answered: "I want to grow older." My mom smiled and asked, "Yes, but when you grow older, what do you want to become?" At that point, the five-year-old me didn’t have an answer. In my young mind, growing up itself felt like the goal. Little did I know, I...

Dressing up for a party, the thrill of a new gown, stitched for a friend's wedding. Going to work, in professional attire, feels good. But your heart still longs for the worn, familiar black t-shirt. Its fabric, almost faded, has seen so much— like the soul wrapped within it. Lipstick stains, flecks of foundation, the scent of your favorite pasta, and drool from sleepy nights. It’s weathered countless days, through laughter and tears, stretched and pulled, yet never torn. Each thread tells a story— of resilience, of comfort, of all the moments woven into its seams. Who is your eternal love? Without hesitation, it's the black t-shirt— nourishing you with unconditional warmth, even after thousands of washouts.

We’re all caught up in the daily grind, constantly on the go. Time to jump out of bed - the alarm is ringing! You’ve really got to speed up now as you're already running late for work. Hustle-free breakfasts and lunches are now just a few and far between. You’ve really got to catch this train, or else the next one comes after an hour. Don’t forget to pay the EMI as the deadline is sneaking up! Run, run and run try not to fall behind in the rat race. Isn’t it true that, to some extent, we're all in the same boat? We rush through life, even if just for a fraction of our day. But then, there are those rare moments of calm. I found myself sitting on my balcony, a cup of tea in hand and my favorite book on my lap, when suddenly, I noticed a tiny baby slug slowly making its way toward me. The tiny baby slug As a kid, and even until very recently, I didn’t like snails or slugs simply because they were slimy! Poor creatures—they don’t deserve such disdain. I’m writing this because my p...