Just Writing Stuff Down

I've had this thought stuck in my head for weeks now, so let me just get it out before it rots. And before anyone says "you're seventeen, what do you even know about love" — yeah, I know how old I am. I'm not talking about marriage or soulmates or any of that. I'm not even talking about some old-timey version of romance where people wrote letters and waited months for a reply. I'm talking about the small stuff. The stomach-flip-for-no-reason stuff. The kind of thing that keeps you up at night and waiting in the day. Phone buzzes, and for half a second, before you even check, you're hoping it's them. That's what I mean by romance. And I think we've genuinely lost the plot on it. Because this is basically what "talking to someone" looks like now: "Hey." "Hey." "You're cute." "Wanna date?" Like my god, what happened to everything in between? Where did actually knowing a person go? We've...

Hey. It's been a while. Not because I haven't wanted to write. Trust me, I've wanted to. There have been so many days where I've opened this page, looked at the blinking cursor for a minute, typed a sentence, hated it, deleted it and closed the tab and gone back to rewatching brooklyn 99 for the nth time. I had things to write about. I still do. But every single one of those thoughts deserves its own blog and today... I don't know it just isn't a heavy talk day. Today I just wanted to write. Just cuz I haven't written. Just me thinking out loud. It's 6:56 p.m. My playlist has been on loop for the last hour and somehow ive decided this was the perfect time to write because mom is telling me be ready in 20 minutes and i know im gonna have to rush after this.  So here we are. If you've been around here for a while, you probably know me. Or at least I think you do. This is the 30th blog. Thirty. Which is honestly a little crazy because I don't think ...

Heyo, this might genuinely be my favourite one to write. If you're not already aware, the FIFA World Cup began on the 11th of June, well, the 12th for us, because of IST — and my entire body already feels different. That specific kind of different. It's my 4th World Cup to watch. I saw my first in 2014, and I barely have any recollection except that some match was going on, the commentary suddenly changed tone, and my dad came sprinting out of the kitchen with a plate full of food in his hand, yelling, because some man out of 22 people who all looked exactly the same to me had scored a goal. It wasn't the goal. It was Pops' reaction to that goal that hit me somewhere deep, deep enough that I knew I had to watch this tournament again. That year, Germany v Argentina played the final, and Argentina lost. I kept thinking about it, kept asking Papa what this whole thing even was, and he told me it'll be back in 4 years, and then I could sit and watch every match I wanted...

So in the last blog I spoke about women. What women want. What women think. Why women are emotionally layered creatures who can cry over a reel, win an argument, overthink six situations simultaneously and still somehow function normally. And after posting it I said my next blog would be about men. Or more specifically: what men want. Now before the male species starts celebrating because finally somebody admitted women are complicated — relax. You men are equally complicated.At least the ones from my generation are. Maybe men from Dad’s generation were slightly simpler. Honestly I don’t know. Half of them seem emotionally stable and the other half look like they survived purely on responsibilities, stress, and chai. But boys today? Oh my God. Complicated creatures. And before anyone goes: “What do YOU know about men?” Let me clarify something. I don’t have a brother. My dad is basically my only bro. And while he and I discuss literally everything from politics to food to why mosquitoe...

  It’s 3 am nearly, and my brain is still overworking over matters of the heart and cupid. And so I have thoughts. Like always.  NEWSFLASH- IT IS BLOODY LONG. Lol.  Women are fascinating creatures. Actually no —  humans  are fascinating creatures. But women? Women are layered. Emotional. Analytical. Contradictory. Soft and strong simultaneously. We can cry over a dead fictional character and then argue like lawyers five minutes later. We can say “I’m fine” while visibly not being fine and then get irritated when someone doesn’t notice we’re not fine. Beautifully exhausting species, honestly. And before men start preparing counterarguments, relax. Men are complex too. But women are emotionally engineered in a way that makes us process life very deeply. Some women more than others. And I think I fall into the latter category. I feel like I am pretty chill with relationships. (This is me btw talking without ever being in one, so unnecessary gyaan isn’t appreciated....