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CARRYING TRAUMA IN SILENCE

Trauma is something that lives with us for a very long time. It does not matter whether the incident was big or small. What matters is that it stays. It stays with you, sometimes for years, sometimes for a lifetime. It haunts you, and often, there feels like no escape. Especially for women. I see so many women carrying trauma in silence. It hurts to know that many girls never get the chance to speak about it honestly. There is always fear. Fear of judgment. Fear of questions. What will they think of me? What will happen if I tell them? Will something bad happen to me? These thoughts control them. They lock them in a room they cannot leave, like a dark hole that slowly changes their life. I have heard many stories like this. From my friends, my cousins, and people I know. Almost every woman I know has faced some form of harassment or abuse in her life. That is heartbreaking. Even more painful is knowing that some of them were just children. At an age when they did not even u...
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HIGHSCHOOL - THE CHAPTER I NEVER KNEW I'D MISS

  Funny how life works. You spend years wanting to escape something, only to find yourself wishing you could go back. I spent ten years in an Anglo-Indian girls’ school, and then just like that, I was moved to a co-educational high school. I was upset, to say the least. My new school was the complete opposite of my old one. It was strict, with endless rules to follow, and the worst part was having to eat lunch in the classroom under the watchful eye of our class teacher. No fun. No privacy. Just study, study, study. Back then, I counted the days until it would all be over. I couldn’t wait for school life to end. But little did I know, one day I’d miss it. Recently, our school hosted a food festival. All my high school friends planned to go, and I decided to join. Best decision ever. Seeing them after years felt like a tight hug to my heart. We met our teachers, laughed over the silly memories and shared stories about those days we once wanted to escape. Afte...
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THE ART OF LETTING GO WITHOUT FORGETTING

To be honest, all of us have lost at least one person we thought we’d spend the rest of our lives with. Unfortunately, I’ve lost many relationships like that. Each time, I tell myself to never build a bond so deep that it could crush me if it ever broke. But my heart never listens. I have wept my eyes out, trying to forget the love we shared, the memories we made, and even the person’s very existence. But then, out of nowhere, a thought struck me; Why do I try to forget the person? Just days ago, they meant the whole world to me. So why should I erase them? That’s when I learned something, "the art of letting go without forgetting". It doesn’t mean we have to erase the love just because we’re no longer together. It’s true, i agree. It hurts. It hurts so badly that sometimes you struggle to even breathe. But that’s okay. You will be alright, eventually. We learn to move forward without erasing the past. We learn to cherish the moments we shared, even if we can’t ha...
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BETWEEN HOLDING ON AND FALLING APART

There’s a quiet pressure I carry in my head almost every day. An unspoken effort to hold things together, to keep the pieces from falling apart — even when no one else seems to notice the cracks. The thing is — people don’t always see things the same way. Some are so caught up in their own lives that they overlook the quiet acts of care and the small sacrifices made for them. Some choose distance, unbothered about the things happening around them. And others carry love in ways that aren’t always visible but it exists in silence, in gestures so subtle they’re often missed. I feel it in the unspoken moments, in little gestures most people might miss. But it hurts to see when those moments get twisted or misunderstood everytime. And here I am, stuck somewhere in between. Trying. Hoping. Pretending I’m okay when honestly, it feels like my head’s slowly coming undone. Maybe one day things will change. Maybe people will notice what others are carrying in quite ways. Maybe heart...
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WHEN WRITING BECAME MY VOICE

I’ve always been the type to keep stuff to myself. Not because I wanted to, but honestly, I just didn’t know how to open up. Even my closest friends didn’t really know everything. Little things, big worries, happy moments, sad ones — I just kept it all inside. I grew up like that. Maybe I didn’t want to bother anyone. Or maybe I was just scared they wouldn’t get it. Either way, it became a habit. But after a while, it got heavy. All those thoughts and feelings I never said out loud started piling up. Then one day, I just opened the notes app on my phone and started typing. Just me talking to myself. Saying what hurt, what I missed, what I wished for. Stuff I was too scared to say out loud. And you know what? That felt really good. So I kept doing it. Whenever I felt sad, angry, or even confused about what I was feeling, I would sit at the corner and write. Slowly it became my little safe spot. A place where I didn’t have to pretend I was okay. Then my professor gave us a ch...
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A BATTLEFIELD I CALLED HOME

I wasn’t looking for anything deep today. I was just scrolling through Instagram to pass time. It’s Sunday — probably one of the most boring days of the week for me. No plans, no excitement. Just endless scrolling to fill the boredom. And then, out of nowhere, I came across a post that made me pause. Those words felt like someone had reached inside my chest and put my entire childhood into a sentence. It was about a girl who was waiting. Waiting for the doors to stop slamming. Waiting for the yelling to stop. Hoping that someone would ask if she was okay. And right then, it hit me right in the heart because that was me. That was my life. I grew up in a house that felt like a battlefield more than a home. I remember, i was waiting too. Waiting for the fights to be over. Waiting for a peaceful day. Waiting for someone to notice the quiet kid sitting in the corner, pretending not to exist. But no one ever did. And for the longest time, I thought it was just me being unlucky to...
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SOMETIMES IT'S BETTER TO BE ALONE

Lately, I’ve realised it’s okay to be alone. Not in a sad or angry way — but in a peaceful, quiet way. You don’t always have to surround yourself with people or hold on to every friendship. Sometimes, being alone saves you from overthinking things that don’t deserve that much space in your head. We often expect too much without even noticing it — a message, a call, a little effort. And when it doesn’t come, it hurts more than we care to admit. But here’s the truth: not everyone’s built like you. Some people won’t show up. Some won’t care the way you do. And that’s on them, not you. I’ve learned to let go of expectations. Not because I’ve stopped caring — I still do. But because it hurts less when you stop waiting for people who forget you so easily. It feels lighter when you choose yourself first. Some days, it’s actually nice to be alone. Watch your favourite shows, eat your favourite food, listen to old songs, laugh at your own silly jokes. No explanations, no pretending....
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