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Let’s Be Strangers Once Again

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Let’s be strangers once again, The kind who pass like drifting rain— No history, no ache, no “seen,” Just two calm dots on a silent screen. No more decoding texts at night, No battles dressed as “just a fight,” No shrinking love to fit your doubt— My heart has finally clocked out. I’m choosing peace, a quieter lane, Where healing hums in every vein. Where dignity sits next to tea, And innocence returns to me. Today still hurts, I won’t pretend— But wounds are not where stories end. They’re messy maps the soul rewrites While walking toward gentler nights. I’ll water plants instead of pain, Laugh at memes that keep me sane, Sleep without the anxious scroll, Reclaim the softness you once stole. No anger here, no slammed-off calls— Just steady steps beyond our walls. I’m letting go without a shove— A tender exit from a toxic love. So let’s be strangers, you and I— Not bitter storms, just separate sky. You were a lesson, not my fate, A closed book I no longer annotate. And somewhere in my c...
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Staying Calm in Chaos Is a Superpower

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There’s a girl who moves through life the way most people scroll Instagram — not because everything is perfect, but because she’s too tired to react to every dramatic post. Chaos doesn’t chase her. Chaos lives in her house, probably paying rent in emotional confusion. Family drama pops up like those auto-playing ads nobody asked for. And her worries? They’re loyal. Always there. Never miss a day. She doesn’t get emotional support from people. She gets “You’ll be fine na, you always are.” Which is basically the emotional equivalent of handing someone a biscuit when their world is on fire. And yet… she remains calm. Not Buddha-on-a-mountain calm. More like “I’ve seen worse; please don’t waste my time” calm. Her Life Is a Messy Poem — She Just Reads It Better Her days are not peaceful. They’re more like a running commentary of “Really? This now? Okay… sure.” But she doesn’t break. She doesn’t scream into the void (even though she occasionally drafts the scream in her head). She’s learnt s...
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Love, actually, is a Plot Twist

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  Picture this :  You're standing in line at the grocery store, holding a half-smashed loaf of bread and a packet of instant noodles because adulthood is exhausting and preparing a meal is a scam. You’re wearing yesterday’s confidence and a T-shirt that has seen better days. Life feels like one of those slow-mo montages where nothing exciting ever happens — and then BAM. Love walks in. Possibly holding sugar-free dark chocolate and a bucket of Whey Protein. Let’s face it — nobody ever plans for true love. It’s not like you wake up and say, “ Today, I will meet the person who’ll make my soul do cartwheels while my brain screams, ‘What is happening?! ’” No, love is that plot twist the universe throws in when you least expect it — like finding a snickers bar at the bottom of the bag when you're super hungry. Tasty. Healthy. Destined. We spend so much time trying to swipe, search, strategize, and stalk horoscopes, thinking love is a logical outcome of effort. But here’s the cosmic...
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Do I or Do I not?

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  Falkland’s Law and the Art of Not Losing Your Mind (Especially When You’re Already Halfway There) “When it is NOT NECESSARY to make a decision, it is NECESSARY NOT to make a decision.” — Falkland’s Law Also known as : “ Sit down, sis. Don’t start a war just because your brain got bored. ” Meet Falkland’s Law: The Queen of Mental Peace Let’s look at it from a dramatic perspective: Scene : You’ve had a rough day (or month… or zodiac cycle), and suddenly your mind declares a State of Emergency: “ We need answers! What did he mean by ‘take care ’? Should I send that closure text? Should I cut my bangs? Should I call my therapist and ask for a session???” Enter : Falkland’s Law. It politely hands you a chamomile tea and says: “ Darling. If it’s not necessary to make a decision… then it’s necessary to NOT make one .” Also known as : Just because your feelings are screaming doesn’t mean you need to reply with a 700-word text, a permanent life change, or a new haircut. Emotional Dist...
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Unplug and Reset

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Almost Everything Will Work Again If You Unplug It for a Few Minutes—Including You! Ever had one of those days where your brain feels like an internet browser with 37 tabs open, 3 of them frozen, and that annoying background music playing from who-knows-where? Yeah, me too. Technology has taught us a valuable life lesson: when things stop working, the first step is always to unplug and reboot. Wi-Fi down? Router reset. Laptop glitching? Power cycle. TV acting up? Unplug and wait. And yet, somehow, we humans forget that the same golden rule applies to us! Think about it: When was the last time you gave yourself a proper reboot? And no, scrolling through cute animal videos at 2 AM doesn’t count (though I must admit, they do provide temporary system relief). I’m talking about a real, genuine unplugging—stepping away, taking a breath, and allowing yourself to reset. We live in a world where productivity is king's service with hustle culture practically demanding that we function like m...
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Handling Overwork? Easy Peasy. But the Lows? That's Where the Plot Thickens!

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Let’s get one thing out of the way first: yes, overwork is exhausting. Yes, it makes your brain feel like mashed potatoes left out in the sun. And yes, it turns your once energetic “ Let’s DO this !” into a barely audible “ Lemme just nap under this desk real quick .” But you know what? Overwork, for all its teeth-gritting drama, comes with a weird badge of honor. Society claps for it. Your inbox respects it. Even your smartwatch is like, “ You’re crushing it, queen .” But the lows? Oh no. No standing ovation there. Just tumbleweeds, existential dread, and three-day-old hair buns. Let’s talk about those lows—the moments when you’ve finished sprinting the productivity marathon and you’re just... floating. Rather sinking. Or standing in the shower staring at the wall for 27 minutes wondering if you’ve ever actually been good at anything or whether your plant is silently judging you. Overwork is a speed bump. The lows are potholes filled with emotional quicksand. Overworking is kind of li...
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Healing Doesn’t Always Hum in Sanskrit, Sometimes It Roasts You Gently

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We often picture healing as this serene, candle-lit process — you know, with ambient playlists, herbal tea, and maybe a tear-streaked journal entry or two. But sometimes, healing looks a lot more like... belly laughter, sharp one-liners, and conversations that veer wildly from college time shenanigans to absurdity — with zero warning and maximum impact. It’s funny how the universe sends people who speak exactly the dialect your soul understands — fluent in wit, healthy sarcasm, and an almost mystical ability to make you feel seen , even when the topic of discussion is your questionable taste in fictional characters (" You like Phoebe ?!"). The truth is, we talk a lot about trauma and healing, but rarely about how much of it actually begins in safe, joyful spaces. Spaces where you're not being fixed or analyzed — just heard. Where the heavy things are gently acknowledged, then cleverly disarmed with humor and heart. Where “How was your day?” can unexpectedly turn into an e...
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