So there’s that—harrowing grief that stretches and swallows me whole. I feel really small in the face of it and I’m running out of emotional real estate to house it. But there’s also progress. Sometimes I think of a pun and it makes me laugh so hard, my teeth hurt. Sometimes I catch myself talking to myself, and it feels like I’m high-fiving myself. Everyday I catch glimpses of myself and it reminds me that I’m here; that I am present; that I am getting back to myself. Continue reading Some things I know for sure:
Mid-morning on a seemingly non-descript day in August 2012, my mother discovers a tumour on my upper palette. I’m sitting by the kitchen-door watching my mother cook chapati, because it is a miracle that she is cooking anything at all. I was ten when my mother dragged me to the kitchen and made me cook ugali and since then, she only goes back to the … Continue reading Delayed Grief.
Hey guys. I know it’s been a while. I’ve been meaning to write a sequel to my previous post but as you can see, I didn’t get around to it. I got such overwhelming positive feedback from you guys, it felt like anything after that wouldn’t be good enough. I just stopped trying at some point. But I promise, even if it kills me, I … Continue reading 2017
When I was about nineteen years old I had a crush on this plain, tall and seemingly arrogant boy I knew from back in high school. Actually, knew of is a more accurate way to put it. I saw him about five times when I was in form three (sixteen years old) because my school had this program we called Socials where students, who were … Continue reading I’m not quite sure.
Hey guys. I realise that’s it’s been a long while since I posted here. I am trying to grow up so I won’t use writer’s block as a scapegoat. I do have ideas I’d like to write about. Truth, I just don’t have the energy. So I went through my drafts and I found something that rings true today as it did a few months … Continue reading Conversational Anxiety.
The year was two thousand and fifteen. Young, ignorant me was excited about the new year. I truly believed it was going to be my best year yet. I really did. It makes me laugh(and sometimes cry) to think about now naively optimistic I was. I guess I just needed the hopeful illusion. Two Thousand and Fourteen had been an awful year. As it turned … Continue reading On change.
I think it was Ernest Hemingway that once said, “I have never met a happy thinker.” And boy, he couldn’t have been any more correct. Now I am not saying I am a sad thinker, but I will say this, my life would be a lot more easier if I thought about things just a little bit less. Anyway, I have been watching a lot … Continue reading we live,we learn.
Someone once asked me what I loved most about being female. I wanted to say I don’t. Because being female is so exhausting. But it wouldn’t be true if I said I didn’t. Because I have days when I am dangerously in love with myself, and more so, with the fact that I’m a woman. I call them my feminine days. The kind of days … Continue reading Every woman needs…
. I was just having a conversation with myself. And yes, I realize that is a weird thing to do, but hey, I have never denied my insanity. So basically, I was cross with myself for not writing as much. My excuse is I have been preoccupied with you know, life. But like I said it is just an excuse. My main reason (and I … Continue reading So my blank soul won’t let me write.
“There is no such thing as too much self-love.” Even as I type this, there is this voice in my head screaming, “Yes, there is. It is called narcissism.” But I read somewhere that your first reaction to something or someone is what society has conditioned you to think. Your reaction to that first thought is what defines you, makes you who you are. So … Continue reading self-love