Personal
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How I Did Not Meet Your Father
A Preface Some stories are love stories.Some are almosts.These are the other kind. This is a recurring series about the people I didn’t end up with, not just because they weren’t right for me, but sometimes because I wasn’t right for them. Too talkative. Too quiet. Too opinionated. Not opinionated enough. Not religious enough. Not thin… Continue reading
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How to Not Write a Novel: The Author Photo Obsession
Or, how I spent three months curating a literary identity for a book that doesn’t exist [Representative Image generated using AI] You know what’s really important when writing a novel? No, not plot.Not character arcs.Not even finishing the draft. It’s the author photo. Because at some point during your fifth writing spiral and fourth abandoned… Continue reading
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Dress Swapping
[Representative Image generated using AI] I’d been traveling to Bombay for work and a string of errands over the past few weeks. With all the back-to-back trips, my suitcase was bursting with dirty clothes. Getting laundry done at the hotel didn’t make sense unless I wanted to part with half my salary. Luckily, I can… Continue reading
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Nights in White Satin
[Representative Image generated using AI] Why does one feel friendlier and more social when visiting another city? Maybe it’s the thought of yet another room service dinner of rice and yellow dal, or perhaps it’s the loneliness of hotel rooms creeping in, making everything feel a little unsafe. You start longing for familiarity—who better to… Continue reading
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Cupcakes are for the weak
[Representative Image generated using AI] The day I got my diagnosis, was a Tuesday mid-morningish. At this point, having spent so much time mastering the fine art of procrastinating my bath-time, I was sitting in my filth on the giant sofa. Amma was making valiant attempts to guilt-trip me into having a bath, but I… Continue reading
