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...