Trash No One Reads!

There are moments when something small happens, but it hits a place inside you that’s been aching for years. This was one of those moments. He asked me if I wanted to go on the trip. I said yes instantly, maybe a little too quickly. I don’t think he expected that answer. And almost immediately, the reasons started coming. The temperature would be too low. I wouldn’t be able to tolerate it. It’s extremely cold there. What hurt wasn’t the no. What hurt was the implication. That the person who fit into his plan, he chose to take along, would be able to handle it, but I wouldn’t. That my limits were already decided for me, without even letting me try. It was okay though. I didn’t argue. I didn’t ask to be convinced. I didn’t want a consolation prize of Shimla or Manali where the weather is “manageable.” I don’t want alternatives offered out of guilt. So I said no. Properly. Cleanly. Later the other day, I was at home doing what I usually do. Doing clothes. Cleaning. The ordinary, repetitiv...

November feels like dried, dull, quiet leaves. It’s not even about the weather, really. It’s about how everything around me feels like it’s losing colour, just like them. Each day in November doesn’t feel like a new day. It feels like a slow countdown to my birthday, and honestly, I don’t even like that day. I don’t look forward to it, never did. It’s like this reminder that another year passed, but I’m still here, stuck in the same thoughts, same dreams half-done, same life that doesn’t feel much different. I don’t even know what exactly about November makes it so heavy, maybe the silence, maybe the cold air, maybe how it reminds me of everything I wanted to be by now but couldn’t. It’s funny how people say birthdays are supposed to make you feel special. For me, they just make me want to disappear for a while. November feels like dried dead leaves, nothing wrong with them, just quietly existing, done being green, done pretending to bloom. with love and light, nandi ❤

There are days when I miss having friends. Not the “let’s hang out” kind, but the old ones, the ones who knew me before life turned into checklists and logins. Sometimes I scroll through old pictures and it hits me how I don’t have a single person from back then anymore. Not even one constant. It’s weird how time erases people who once knew your favourite pen, your handwriting, your fear of maths. And then there’s this kind hooman. Someone I never really talked to much, but for some reason, they’ve always stayed in my head like background music I never turned off. I still remember how my hands used to shake while talking to them back in school. It was that innocent kind of nervousness that now feels too pure for adult life. We were never close, but I had promised myself something. I told them once that I wanted to go to Germany, and somewhere deep inside, I decided that when I finally make it there,  I’ll message them and say, “Look, I made it.” I even thought I’d visit the Merced...

Sometimes, when I scroll through old pictures or stumble upon familiar faces, I catch myself staring at how tightly some people have stayed connected. You know, the kind of friendships that survive years, jobs, cities, maybe even silence. They still have that group inside jokes, birthday posts, random hangouts that turn into memories. And I don’t. I was never really a part of those circles. Maybe around them, but never in them. I used to think it didn’t matter, that I was fine being on my own, but lately it hits differently. Watching people who’ve known each other forever still finding reasons to laugh together. it makes me feel like I missed something small but important along the way. It’s not jealousy, not even longing for them in particular. It’s just… wondering why I never had that. Why I don’t have anyone to message just because I remembered a random old memory. Why every phase of my life feels like I outgrew people faster than I could hold on to them. And maybe it’s hitting...

There’s one tiny thing I carry in my pocket: a sentence somebody once said to me: “I believe in you.” It was casual when it happened, nothing dramatic. A line in a chat, something that should have been forgotten. But it stayed. It became a quiet reminder on days when I forgot how to keep walking. That small faith turned into a private promise I tell myself: one day I’ll stand in front of something I’ve always dreamed about, take a picture, and whisper to the them, Look, I made it. Not for applause, not for show, but for me, and for the journey that almost broke me. Memories like that are strange: they don’t need to be frequent to be powerful. Ours was a handful of messages, a few thoughtful words, a shared laugh about nothing. We stopped speaking, life went on, and yet those words kept working like an anchor. When everything felt heavy, that tiny belief kept me steady enough to try again. And I’ll be honest, the longer time passes, the harder it feels to move forward, to break out,...

There’s always a first time. For everything. First job, first appreciation, first win and then, the first big mistake. (6th.june.2025) In a corporate journey that’s been stable and hard-earned over the years, it’s easy to fall into the rhythm of doing things right. You build trust. You earn credibility. You start feeling like maybe, just maybe, you’ve found your pace. And then one oversight shakes everything. It was a routine task? The result? A major outage affecting hundreds of customers. And the worst part? Not even realizing the mistake until days later, when someone pointed it out. That moment. The sinking feeling in your chest. The flood of anxiety. The loud silence in your mind where panic begins to spiral. “How could I miss that?” “Why didn’t I double-check?” “What will everyone think?” But here’s the thing no one prepares you for, the emotional aftermath. It’s not just about the technical error. It’s the self-doubt. The imagined judgments. The weight of disappointing peopl...

They say the worst kind of heartbreak isn't always your fairy-tale , it's the one that comes from someone who knew your scars and still chose to cut deeper. Sometimes, people enter our lives and we open up to them. Not because we’re naive, but because we hope . We hope they’ll understand. That they’ll hold space for our pain. That finally, someone will see us not as fragile, but as someone who’s fought battles they’ll never fully know. We trust them with the darkest parts of our past, thinking that if anyone should handle it gently, it would be them. But what happens when that trust is broken? Not by strangers, not by people passing through but by those we thought were our safe place? It’s not just the betrayal that hurts. It’s the after . The silence. The realization that they saw your vulnerability and still chose to misuse it. That they knew about your childhood grief, about your family dynamics, about how fragile you sometimes feel  and still chose their ego, their desir...

Not everyone grows up dreaming of weddings, rings, or shared last names. Some of us grow up observing relationship dynamics so fragile, so heavy, that the very idea of marriage feels less like a beginning and more like a quiet surrender. We’ve seen what it looks like to lose yourself in a bond that was supposed to make you whole. We’ve watched people shrink to keep peace, silence their dreams to keep harmony, and give more than they ever received, all in the name of duty, family, or compromise. And for many of us, that doesn’t feel like love. It feels like survival. Some of us are still healing. Still carrying the weight of childhood fears, unresolved grief, and the emptiness left behind by people we loved more than life itself. We're not ready to hand over pieces of ourselves to someone new especially when we haven’t even stitched ourselves back together. And then there's another fear, the terrifying thought that someone might marry not out of love, but out of settling. Tha...

Were you born in a family that doesn’t always appreciate you? Did you grow up in a household where you thought what you went through was normal? Did you have to grow up quicker than everyone else just to be the emotionally mature one in the family? This is for people who have a complete family but have never felt one who always chooses to be distant and alone who somehow always had too much but never enough. Who, despite how much they love their family, thier efforts are not seen. It is for the children who grew up in toxic households trying their best not to recall the trauma they’ve been through. Children who grew up hearing shouts and screams of anger in the morning instead of a delicious breakfast. Children who cover their ears when there’s an argument and hide in the corner. It’s about the children who did everything to get the validation of their parents but failed to do so. It’s for the elder sisters that were forced to be emotionally mature in a young age. The elder sisters who...

As I approach my 25th birthday, I’m feeling a mix of excitement and reflection. This age feels like a crossroads, where everything from independence to ambition comes into sharper focus. This year has brought meaningful milestones, like getting my first car—a symbol of growing self-reliance and progress. It’s a reminder that growth doesn’t have to be dramatic; sometimes, it’s the small wins that make the biggest impact. I’ve never been one to celebrate my birthday much, and as the day gets closer, I’m already counting down and feeling this strange mix of nervousness and unease. There’s always that bit of dread about getting older, thinking of what I still want to achieve. I’m even wondering how to avoid talking to people that day—I’d thought about just heading to the office to keep it low-key, but my birthday is on a Sunday this year. It’s like the universe is making sure I face the day head-on! Professionally, I’m eager to keep learning and building skills that help me grow into the p...

I stopped ranting and telling other people what is happening inside this body. I used to think that sharing would lighten the load, but I realized that everyone else is carrying their own invisible weights. I hold back because I don’t want to add to your load. I see you fighting your own battles, and I don’t want to be another thing you have to worry about. I don’t know how many “I’m okay”s this mouth has said when someone’s asking me. I will always say I’m okay, and my life has been okay. I thought it was the right thing to do, to spare others from my darkness. We all walk around with smiles that don’t quite reach our eyes, laughter that sounds a bit forced. We’re all masters of disguise, aren’t we? I’ve always been the one to listen, to offer a shoulder, to say, “I’m here for you.” But when it comes to my own struggles, I vanish. I build walls and put up barriers, not wanting to be a burden. I convince myself that my pain is insignificant, that it doesn’t matter. Yet, there’s a part ...

Have you ever stood at the cliff's edge (for cliff-jumping, to be clear), counting time on your fingers, almost ready to take the plunge? No? I have. You’re standing there with blood gushing through your veins and adrenaline seizing control of your entire body. You picture an insane jump with AVICII’s The Nights playing in the backdrop. This is your moment and you’re going to set yourself free. It’s now or never, baby. But instinctively, you step forward and look down. Oops? Doubt takes over all the excitement and anticipation you built for your peak moment. Suddenly, the cliff is higher and the water seems colder. Your footing on the ground becomes unstable and your heartbeat shoots past the roof. You’re afraid of slipping and falling. Gosh, this is a nightmare now. You’re just standing there, frozen in time with each passing second fueling the doubt in your mind. Maybe this was a bad idea, you think, as the thrill of the experience slowly transitions into the fear of disappointme...

Hey there to whoever's still hanging in my little corner – welcome to the place where I dump my thoughts AKA "trash no one reads."  if you're here, thanks for bearing with my thoughts and if you're still reading this, let's dive into the chaos together!   So, I hadn't written anything this year because, well, motivation took a vacation. here I am, breaking my year-long silence. I didn't feel like blogging this year, lost some motivation, and maybe worried a bit about being judged for my words. But, against the odds, I decided to write because someday, maybe years from now, I want to look back on these posts. Reflecting on this year, it kicked off pretty rough, as those who read my "Jan12" blog would know. Despite the challenges, I tried to gather myself, cried a bit, messed up, but guess what? I learned. Professionally, i've stumbled, shed a few tears over mess-ups and mistakes but there's a littul pittul of growth,  i discovered t...

Even when I write this, I feel emotionally so unsettled.   I’ve been awake for 3 am now with a racing mind.    I cried for no reason a few days ago in intervals. This lasted all day.   Every time I meditate and do a body scan, my chest feels heavy. I breathe, and visualize the warmth of sunshine, but nothing seems to make it go away. I even went for a walk the other day.    I preach positivity (still a fan and still actively work on it every day), but I also embrace my sadness and lows.   I talk about not making my articles a personal diary but I’m banking on a bit of writing to make me feel better.   It’s selfish, I know.   A change of events this month that started okay drained me to a complete downfall.   Have you experienced when physical exhaustion leads you to feel sick mentally and mental exhaustion makes you feel sick in your body? It’s how I’ve been feeling every day.   This is, again, a ...

i haven’t written in forever. Why do I write? It started because I was told I was good at it as a child, and like every gifted kid, I took it too seriously. Eventually, I discovered the power of language and writing became my favorite creative outlet (much before photography). But mostly, I write to make sense of feelings and situations; to lay them out in the open.  Why am I bringing this up today, after so long? What have I been up to the past few years.... I know I sound like every twenty-something cliché (or that Tame Impala song), but   There’s been so much variability in my life it’s getting hard to keep up.  Places, people, work, priorities, lifestyle, creative taste - I’m beginning to realize the early-to-mid 20’s are where your biggest transformation takes place.  One day you’re living with your parents and dog, the next home becomes a sunny apartment half way across the world 5000 miles apart  (legit!) One winter day you’re walking to school list...

that’s why you’re so confused. you keep remembering it as “we got to know each other deeply, how could they do me like this in the end”. have you considered they were only pretending to get to know you deeply but had intentions of using you for their own benefit all along? have you considered they never valued you for who you were? have you considered what it meant to you was completely different from what it meant to them? i feel like a possible reason you stray away from this perspective shift is because you don’t want to accept or view them as a “bad person”. but why does it have to mean they’re bad? why can’t it just mean their values has led them to use people in this way? to put it simply, sometimes things really are not that complex. we try to make it so. realistically, their life and perspectives, principles and values up until that point differed so much from yours, regardless of what they told you or what you thought you saw in them. their life trajectory up until that point ...

Your relationships with others can make or break you. Great friends help you fly sky-high, toxic people make you crash like German Wings flight 9525 into the French Alps. From painful experience, I know that just because you like someone or have a wild history together doesn’t mean they’re good for you. Yet, we often cling to these people for far too long because it’s hard to make the cut. We rationalize their behavior, fall for their apologies even if nothing changes, and let them get away with too many things. We don’t stop to ask whether they’re worth it in the first place. “Life has taught me that you can’t control someone’s loyalty. No matter how good you are to them, doesn’t mean that they will treat you the same. No matter how much they mean to you, doesn’t mean that they will value you the same. Sometimes the people you love the most, turn out to be the people you can trust the least.” — Trent Shelton I cut people out of my life many times. It was never easy, but always worth i...

Spoiler : ( !birthday vid ahead!)   I love November. It’s my birthday month. I love my birthday too. Today marks my last day of 21. My last breakfast as a 21, was a missed breakfast (work) and my last morning in bed as a 21 year old. My birthday isn’t all about flowers and cake (oh that reminds me how I love sunflowers & cake) and people acknowledge it’s my special day. It’s not about how many people are going to wish me a Happy Birthday. I don’t even have my birthday listed on social profiles. My life is less toxic, with damn near all toxic influences completely cut, removed and thrown from my life, but I am also aware of how very blessed and fortunate I am to have gotten to this point. So, my life was totally different a year ago. I didn’t have had this blog, I didn’t have a handle on what I even wanted my life to look like…I just knew I wanted it to be different, in a better way. Tomorrow, I turn 22. By the time this is posted, I will be 22. When this blog drops I will have ...

Every year, it’s the same.  November walks in quietly, and I start feeling weird. Everyone keeps asking what I want to do for my birthday, and I just say, “nothing.” Not because I don’t care, but because I actually do maybe a little too much.  And when you care too much, disappointment feels harder. Birthdays have never really been my thing. I don’t hate them, I just... don’t like how they make me feel. It’s supposed to be this happy day, but for me, it’s like a mirror  one that reminds me how much time has passed and how little has changed. I keep saying it’s just another day, but somewhere inside, I’m still that person hoping someone would make it feel special without me having to ask for it. It’s strange how November always feels heavier than the rest of the months. Maybe because it’s tied to the idea of growing up, maybe because I secretly expect more from it every year. There’s no party, no grand plan. Just me a little anxious, a little sentimental, a little tired....

Creating a fulfilling life that brings me joy and molding it exactly how I want was the most excruciating journey I’ve been through. You’d think that authentically changing your life would come smoothly and just feel right , right? That’s not the case. Change is uncomfortable. You step out of what you’ve always known into a life of the unknown. After all, if change were easy, wouldn’t everyone do it? Correct ? One existential crisis is enough for you to ignite a sense of urgency to give your life a much-needed direction. Luckily, I’ve experienced my share of the most horrific emotional hells ( yet ) at age 20. Many people mistake certain feelings as them heading in the wrong direction. Or, worse, once someone experiences those negative feelings, it paralyzes them in fear. They imagine a new life but watch it fade away from the sidelines. For a while, that was me. I had no idea what I was doing but knew I couldn’t live life the way I had been anymore. Every step I tried to take forward...