“A careful voice humming through the crowded street, at the dead of the night when all fall asleep, it’s alone and chilly, exhaustion evident in it’s already present misery.

Who knew looking happy for everyone would be so difficult, who knew a simple smile would induce an urge to cry. All it was a muffled voice in the crowd that no one could see or feel. This voice we talk about is not just an abstract thing but also a personality description of a boy, Jay.”

Click and send!

“All done!”, exclaimed Jay, grunting as he stretched his arms.

Talking about our main protagonist here, let’s learn about Jay.

Jay, an average university student with a small group of friends, is not very social and anonymously posts blogs about a voice which in reality are his own personal thoughts and sometimes frustration about hiding his true self. None of his friends know about it, unless you count his best buddy, Luca, his dog.

Anyways, enough with the introductions, let’s get on with the story.

Standing in front of the mirror, Jay assessed his outfit and completed it with a black jacket. He made sure his outfit made him look as invisible as possible and left his apartment, not without petting his best buddy, Luca.

He sighed as he entered the bus and chose the last seat and took out his earphones, even though he tried not to look around him, yet he couldn’t help but notice this distinct feature on everyone around him, happiness, he muttered something inaudible, most probably a curse and continued ignoring everyone and drowning himself in his music.

It’s not like Jay has something against happiness, but to him putting on a smile is far more difficult than solving algebraic expressions and learning Einstein’s theorem. To him happiness was like a fever dream, something unachievable but no one had to know those thoughts.

As university approached,he took out his earphones, straightened his clothes and put on the best happy face he could manage and climbed down the bus.

He felt a weird kind of chill run down his back, something felt off and weird today but he couldn’t pinpoint what, anyhow he continued his way to the building. Surprisingly the so bubbly and loud building was home to hushed whispers and stares, he wondered if it was just his imagination or were people truly staring at him.

He tried to locate his friends in the crowd and walked towards them once he found them.

“Hey what’s up with everyone today? Y’all okay?”,Jay asked in a tone which could be only described as an awkward attempt to be funny.

His friend suddenly put his arm on his shoulder, “Man I hope you know that you can trust us with whatever it is, it’s scary to read so and even though it’s weird I’ll try my best to be a good friend.”

Jay just stood there trying to process his words when his other friends said something along the similar lines and the other students looked at him weird and walked straight ahead, some even avoiding eye contact. He was surprised but nonetheless he tried not to question them since he knew they wouldn’t answer.

The bell rang indicating the start of the class, it was extremely awkward for Jay, he felt all eyes looking at him, some sincere, some weird and some plain mocking. He tugged on his jacket sleeve and chose the last seat as usual, he tried his best to ignore the stares but it was becoming too overwhelming with every passing moment.

As the classes for the day came to an end, he sighed in relief and wanted nothing more than to run back home.

“Jay, I would like to meet you in my office right now.”

Jay was left even more confused than before. He tried to recall if he did something wrong or not but nothing came to his mind as he followed his class teacher to her office.

As he entered the office he did not expect a man to be there already, he greeted the unfamiliar man and sat down following his teacher’s instruction.

“Jay, I’m glad you decided to come out, these issues are difficult to talk about in our society, you know how people can be, yet you are so brave for doing that, this man you see here is a professional and will try to help you out of your situation. Trust me, it’ll all be fine with his help.”

All blood drained from Jay’s face as he tried to process everything that happened today, he completely froze, a million thoughts running in his head. He felt like he was paralysed and just couldn’t breathe. He heard voices but he just couldn’t move, finally after what felt like an eternity he regained his senses only to drown in his own tears. He was incapable of replying to whatever his teacher said and abruptly got up and ran.

He ran as far as he could, he ran until his legs gave out and tried his best to calm down with no success, tears blurring his vision and a pressure constricting his lungs, he felt as if his chest would explode. He looked around himself and recognized that he ran to the lakeside, he sat on the grass and with shaky hands took his phone out only to find notifications flooding his phone. He opened those notifications and found his assumption to be right.

He accidently posted it on his public university blog page rather than his anonymous one. He felt everything shattering and for what felt like the hundredth time today, he sobbed alone while the chilly environment engulfed him. After mustering a little bit of energy he walked towards his home, tired steps guiding him home.

“First of all, before starting the blog, I’d like to thank everyone for reading, though I’m not sure how I get so many views? Do you all like reading my miserable lives so much or is it because you like to compare yours with mine and stay happy? *low chuckles*

Anyways whatever the reason might be, thank you.

The voice is awfully quiet in the day-time but the loudest at night, if you listen to it carefully you’ll know how hard it is trying, how bad it is fighting with itself, continuously telling itself to change and that it’s just a phase but then again what is the voice? What is it’s base? What is the reality?

Yet sometimes it cries while screaming loudly into oblivion, why do I need to hide? What is my fault? Am I wrong to express myself?

What can I do if I like a voice who’s of the same gender as mine? What can I do if I’m jealous of all the voices that sound happy? What can I do if I wish to be louder? Stronger? Prouder? Will I keep on living as a muffled voice?

Today the voice seems even more heavy and lonely,a careful voice humming through the crowded street, at the dead of the night when all fall asleep, it’s alone and chilly, exhaustion evident in it’s already present misery.

Who knew looking happy for everyone would be so difficult, who knew a simple smile would induce an urge to cry. All it was a muffled voice in the crowd that no one could see or feel. This voice we talk about is not just an abstract thing but also a personality description of a boy, Jay.”

He re-read the blog he posted and cried, his tears all dried up by now yet the cries won’t stop. He kept on blaming himself for such a stupid mistake, he saw the looks in everyone’s eyes, he saw how his friends flinched and felt awkward while touching him. He remembers how most of the people he used to greet avoided his eye contact, probably just avoided him in general. He remembers how his teacher said that the man will “help him out of his situation”.

Help him out of what situation? He did not know if he should laugh or cry. Yes, he was gay. He had been gay for a long time but his inability to express himself made him suffer all these years, he drowned himself in depression until he found blogging as a way to cope and vent, but now he felt everything shattered. He did not know how to face everyone, he opened his article again which was still being talked and commented on.

He did not realise when he fell asleep, he woke up with a throbbing headache and dried tears on his face. He wanted to forget about everything. It all felt surreal.

He entered the university building and tried his best to ignore the stares, he found his friends in the corner and waved to them only to get an awkward smile back as they immediately got up and left. He controlled his urge to cry and went to attend his lectures, everything was so painful, the stares, the whispers, everything.

Just as he thought things couldn’t get any worse, some students approached him laughing, “Baby, I got you a lipstick, and he got a headband from his girlfriend” the others kept on laughing. They kept asking him to dance, to dress and slowly started pushing him.

With each push they passed a comment, Jay saw his friends passing and yelled for help but they all ignored and walked in the opposite direction, “how could they be his friend? They were scared of you confessing to one of them or having inappropriate thoughts, how disgusting.”

“I have a girlfriend, so don’t think inappropriately of my touch.”

And their laugh echoed.

The homophobic and mocking comments just shattered him completely, suddenly everything felt hot as a rush of adrenaline coursed through his body, everything felt bad, hot tears running down his cheeks, he felt as if his world stopped and then everything blacked out.

YEARS LATER

“Thank you for attending everyone, hope to meet you all next time.”, Jay smiled and exited the auditorium.

“Your speech was wonderful, just killed it!”

“Yeah, Jay is getting better and better, at this rate my popularity will go down”

And Jay laughed on hearing his friends’ words, but this time his laughs and smiles were a true one.

“Come on guys, you guys rocked it too!, anyways I’d love to stand here and chat but I have somewhere to be so I’ll take your leave.”

“Jay, stop being so formal and just say your boyfriend’s waiting”, one his friends teased.

Jay smiled shyly and left.

He got in his car, and switched on the radio, soothing melodies filling the space as he drove. His life took a big turn after university, that incident still gives him chills but now he has people to fall back on when he’s scared, people who are trustworthy.

He still remembers that day when he collapsed on the campus and everyone left him to probably die? He remembers waking up in the hospital, he remembers crying himself to sleep, he remembers locking himself in his home but he also remembers the kind nurse who is presently his boyfriend, he remembers how he was taken to therapies where they helped him not to come out his situation but to accept it and love himself, how he learned that loving someone is not a stigma and depression is not a call for attention. He moved out of the city to a small town where he studied literature and made genuine and sincere friends, he never stopped writing and in no time he became one of the known bloggers who also is a guest lecturer and attends seminars at times. He smiles, a real one and gets out of the car forgetting his past and stepping towards a better future.

“The voice hums beautiful melodies under the moonlight, singing about starlit skies and warm blankets, the voice slowly mingles with a soft tone and together they dance as warm breeze blows past them, the voice is smiling and free, cheerful and complete finally. This voice we talk about is not just an abstract thing but also a personality description of a boy, Jay.”

— — — THE END — — —

It was a nice and breezy evening, I was sitting with my family having tea.

Since my exams had just gotten over, I was not willing to get back to studying just yet so I decided to read a few saved posts and well clear up my iPhone’s storage.

I opened the photos app and scrolled through the photos shortlisting the ones I did not need. While scrolling I shared a few photos with my family and we all sat down and discussed the memory behind it. It was a wholesome moment and the cutest part we all remembered different significant incidents from that day.

I had cleared up a few images that were bursts or maybe screenshots I no longer required until I saw some photos from my school days, a video of me and my then friends laughing like crazy not caring about the world.

I was not ready to deal with these emotions right now, and before I realized I had reached an area which felt like an unchartered territory. It’s almost funny how some moments even after knowing that they are there only to give you pain yet they are the moments that are so hard to erase.

It has been almost 4 years now that I have detached myself from them yet I can’t find myself to delete the memories I shared yet. Sometimes I wonder if there was another path that I could have chosen, not that I hate the one I’m on at the moment but the “what if” still lingers.

I cherished the memories while they lasted but in the present time the mere thought of them makes my brain go haywire and it triggers my fight or flight system. Even though for any other person I look joyful and cheery, only I know what my eyes hid then and how much it had been hiding since then.

So once again I look back at the photo and reminiscence only to be left with bittersweet emotions and a photo that is like an unfading scar that stays even after the wound is long gone, leaving a print to be always remembered yet indelible.

As crowd clears and paramedics stand promptly on their feet to take custody of the body, he takes his last breath.

“Detective, he’s dead.”

“He has the same symbol etched on his neck like the other 6 bodies we’ve found in these last two weeks.”

Detective Analise stood there frozen when she finally muttered, “send him for autopsy.”

“Sergeant James, you called for me?”, said Analise in a low tone.

“Well, yes and judging by your face it seems you had a bad day again?”, James motions Analise to take a seat as he passes a glass of water.

“I was so close, all the trails led to him, yet I could not reach there on time. We have sent the body for autopsy but the killer, even after brutally murdering and engraving their stamp of satisfaction no piece of evidence or DNA was found. It’s so frustrating.”, yells Analise her fists hitting the table as if it were the killer themselves.

“Now Analise, the first step is to calm down. You are right you were really close, maybe you will be closer next time. You have been doing a great job and I know you have the potential to solve it. Go home, freshen up, get a shut-eye and meet me tomorrow afternoon with all the files.”, says James in a comforting tone.

James has been a father figure to Analise ever since she lost her father in a car accident. He was the one who inspired Analise to become a detective in the first place and ever since then there has been no stopping. Analise by far has had a really successful track record but this particular case was extremely challenging even for her.

“Breaking news
A young boy, age 35, was found dead in Hemingway street. The victim is said to be stabbed thrice in his chest and on his neck a similar broken heart symbol was etched with a red scarf stuffed in his pocket. This marks the 7th murder in two weeks. The killer is still on the loose and the police have little to no information on the culprit.

Sergeant James and his team are doing the best they can, yet we advise all viewers to stay safe and not interact with unknown people on the streets. In case of danger immediately dial 911.”

Analise sat down with a bottle of wine, sipping as she saw the news.

‘What motive can the killer have? What is their relation with the victims? If the victims have no enemies then who? Or are they just a psychopath who loves to kill?’

These questions troubled Analise to no end, she chugged down the wine and lied down the bed as the news kept echoing in the background.

The next morning

“Chug let’s go, we need to interrogate the family.”

The door bell rings- trrng trrng

A middle aged couple opens the door, a desolate looking lady with red puffy eyes is standing in the corner, presumably the wife. All of their faces lack color and their eyes moisture from all the crying.

“Good morning, I am Detective Analise, and I am the one investing the murders. If you don’t mind can we ask a few questions so that we can get a clear picture?”

“Sure, please sit down. I am Max Matthews father of Evan Matthews, that is my wife Ruth and my daughter-in-law Daisy.”

With a deep breath Analise began the interrogation.

“When was the last time you talked to him?”

“Daisy spoke to him last…” as Max motioned Daisy to speak “Yeah I called him during his lunch time around 1pm and them he texted me around 5pm saying he was on his way home.” , said Daisy slowly.

“Does Hemingway street fall on the way? You said he works for U&K group so if I had to chalk a routemap would he have not chosen to come from Verner street?”

“You are right, but that day he did not get a taxi. He took the subway and the nearest station to our place is near Hemingway street. From there our house is a 8–10 minutes walk.” said Daisy.

“Makes sense. Did he ever have any fight or you know some sort of animosity with someone at work or outside work? Any friend, neighbor or just someone you might know of.”

“No, he was a very shy and quiet boy. Everyone loved my son, who could so brutally kill him? He was kind to everyone. He was praised by his boss and team too. Look at our mantle it is filled with trophies and certificates from work. He was loved by all…”, cried Ruth like a child, her head lolling on her husband’s shoulder.

Analise sighed and looked around, stretched her neck and breathed out in a heavy tone,“Except one.”

All three looked at Analise with mixed emotions of fright, sadness, shock and a little bit of hope.

End of Part 1. Stay tuned for Part 2, do share your thoughts!!

Imagine posting everyday, consistently. You write your heart out and in the end it just sums up to mere 1–2 views and no claps.

You scavenge the internet for possible ways to increase views, engagements, follows and claps. You read multiple articles from people who have managed to successfully create a loyal audience, are getting viral every time they post and are earning 20k-50k a month just from this side hustle.

But here are a few things that no one tells you about, and here’s the list.

• Post consistently, everyday and create cohesive content. For faster growth you can post 2 articles per day.
• Focus on readability, divide the article into clear sections for easy navigation.
• Write on topics that are relatable, trending or going viral.
• Comment on other people’s posts and support them to grow your community.
• Don’t give up, growth takes time.

By now you must be through with all the points and are thinking, “Oh what a waste of time, I wanted to get tips but here she is stating all the same points that everyone says.” Emphasis on “points that everyone says.”

This was me when I first started my Instagram and Medium page, I was new and flustered because of the lack of audience. Even a small comment or like made me feel like I was doing something right. I too used to read through every article on the internet to skyrocket my growth, until I realized that writing is not my job, it doesn't have to pay me anything, I do it because I enjoy it yet I doubt my abilities because I am not getting the external validation I deserve.

People on the internet are looking for external validation and satisfying their audience’s needs and that is each time articles titled are getting viral each time. For eg:
- “How to gain audience in a week”
- “How I earn $30k per month by just posting on Instagram”
- “Not reaching the audience, follow these steps”
- “How to establish yourself on social media”

After going through a number of articles, all I see is the writer suggesting the same tips that I have reading for the last 3 days.

Some nutritionist on social media recommends drinking 2 litres of water per day for healthy skin, and body and the post ends up getting viral.

Simple salad recipes, how to apply nail paints, trying on dresses, eating at random places, etc. keep getting viral for suggesting the same things over and over again because people on the internet are not satisfied with one’s content and end up looking at similar content which ends up being a boon for the creator.

And if some of you might object on my hot take on this, you may scour the internet and 8 out of 10 articles will give you the same result because there is only one established fact but 100 insecurities of new creators that gives creators the leverage to get viral every single time.

And if accidentally this blog does get claps, either I might just be lucky or maybe what I rattled was right.

Thank you for reading so far, new creators like me who are struggling to establish themselves don’t pay heed to what other influencers say.

If following the same path gave everyone the same kind of success then everyone would either be Elon Musk or Bill Gates. Everyone’s success is a result of their own individuality which must never be diluted just to prove a point on the internet.

Follow your heart and never forget the reason why you initially started your journey, focus. Maybe not today, not even next month or months after that will you see the growth you desired but someday it will reflect, so don’t give up because I haven’t. I am proud of the articles and hardwork I put into my articles and I always will be.

Thank you!

Today, I watched a movie with my parents that left me feeling unsatisfied and spinning with thoughts. The film, titled “The Signature,” is a Hindi movie starring Anupam Kher and Neena Kulkarni. (Spoilers ahead.)

The story begins on a cheerful note as Anupam Kher (Arvind) and Neena Kulkarni (Madhu) embark on a long-awaited trip across Europe. Arvind, a retired librarian, finally fulfills his wife’s dream of traveling abroad after 35 years of marriage. Their family sees them off at the airport, and everything feels bright and hopeful — until Madhu suddenly collapses in the check-in line.

After the incident, we find Madhu in a hospital, unresponsive and on life support due to a brain hemorrhage. For ten long days, Arvind clings to hope, spending every moment by her side. When he meets his son in the hospital cafeteria, the stress is evident on his son’s face. With a heavy heart, he suggests signing a DNR (do-not-resuscitate) order, arguing that Madhu isn’t responding and their mounting medical bills are a burden.

The film follows Arvind’s journey of hope and resilience as he fights for his wife’s life, tirelessly reaching out to friends and family for financial support. It not only portrays a man’s unwavering devotion but also sheds light on the harsh realities of the medical system, where families often find themselves caught in a web of excessive charges and questionable care.

After much struggle, Arvind reconnects with an old friend, Ambika, whom he hasn’t seen in twelve years. As they share lunch, a shocking twist reveals that Ambika is terminally ill and wants to live joyfully until the end, highlighting the inevitability of death.

As Arvind’s world crumbles, he visits Madhu, reminiscing about their life together. Overwhelmed, he eventually signs the DNR form his son suggested. Meanwhile, his family and friends work tirelessly to gather money for Madhu’s treatment. In a bittersweet twist, just as they find her showing signs of recovery, they discover Arvind slumped in the cafeteria, lifeless, holding the signed DNR papers.

The ending opens up numerous narratives, but I hope for a different resolution: that Madhu peacefully passes away, unaware of Arvind’s sacrifice. If she were to wake up and find him dead because of her medical treatment, it would devastate her. Instead, I wish for her final memory to be a happy one, filled with the joy of their love as they set off on their long-awaited European adventure.

What alternate ending do you envision? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

These days, waking up seems hard. Each night, I plan things out for the day, yet as the sun’s rays beam through my windows, I draw the curtain and delve deep into my slumber. Drawing the curtain feels almost symbolic, if not poetic in a way. It’s like I’m creating a barrier of my own, hindering my goals.

It’s frustrating and scary at times. After being in depression for the last 6 years, finally stabilizing myself in the past year feels like I’m breathing new air, filled with new energy. But when those same emotions dawn over me, it feels like someone is pushing me back into that enclosure I tried so hard to escape.

To the world, it might just be stress, but to me, it’s losing my senses. I lay aimlessly, not sleepy but tired — tired as if I’ve run a marathon and just need loads of rest. My limbs weigh me down as my goals shuffle to the back of my head. Right now, all I want to do is breathe. Breathe in the air I found after 6 years — drown in it, in fact.

I know why I feel this way; maybe I still can’t forget some pieces of myself that I had to forcefully detach. Now my incomplete body calls for it. Will I wake up from this slumber? All I want is to break free and breathe, but right now, I’m under a quilt, deep in sleep.

I don’t know if it’s prudent to share my vulnerable moments with people on the internet, but here I am, piecing together my thoughts like a jigsaw puzzle. After 6 stifling months at home, I find myself lost in “what ifs.” While others seem proud of their positions in life, I sit here making a diary entry about it.

Looking outside, I see fog — a thick layer obscuring the reality I expected, now just dust from dreams that have broken down into shambles. Yes, I am rambling because I’m utterly confused. I meticulously planned my next few months, yet somehow I’ve failed to maintain the momentum. Am I working hard enough to deserve what I dream? No. Yet here I am, bitter and helpless, still trying.

I wish for a life not dominated by “what ifs.” I long to take control, to shift the narrative. My life feels like it’s flowing from a third-person perspective, and I often wonder if I can change that.

I started my own Instagram, Medium, Patreon, and Substack, eager to alter the course of my path and hungry to become something more. But, to my dismay, I found myself unsatisfied. It wasn’t just about gaining an audience — though that doubt crept in — but my hunger lies elsewhere.

As I close my eyes at night, I live that dream over and over again. Am I working hard enough? No. But am I hungry enough to try? Yes. So I wait for the dust to settle, longing to draw out my dreams and ambitions. Until then, I’ll allow myself to drown in the dust that once made me feel alive, so I can rise again, stronger and taller.

The COVID pandemic brought the world to a standstill, and for many of us, it was a time of fear, isolation, and uncertainty. I still remember the day I first felt the symptoms — fever, body aches, the heavy fatigue that clung to me like a shadow. Convinced I had contracted COVID, I got tested immediately. Surprisingly, the test came back negative, but my symptoms persisted, mimicking everything we had been told to watch out for.

As a precaution, I was prescribed medication and told to isolate myself for two weeks. Those fourteen days stretched endlessly, with loneliness and uncertainty filling every moment. My father would leave food at the door on a chair, and once he’d left, I’d retrieve it, trying to find some comfort in the routine. Each meal was a reminder of my physical separation from the world outside, even from my own family.

It was during one such moment, when I was waiting for my breakfast, that something unexpected happened. I sat on the bed, scrolling mindlessly through my phone, expecting to hear my father’s familiar knock. But instead of him, I saw our new house help enter the room with the tray.

For a second, I was taken aback. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I quickly put on my mask and told her, “I’m under isolation. You shouldn’t be here.”

With a gentle smile, she reassured me, “Don’t worry, beta. You’re the same age as my daughter. If my daughter were sick, would I leave her alone just because it’s a contagious disease? No, I would take care of her. So, you don’t hesitate to call for me if you need anything.”

Her words hit me deeply. In that small moment, she completely changed my perspective on what kindness and care really meant. I had been treating isolation as an impenetrable barrier, assuming that my condition had to push everyone away. But here she was, offering not just food but warmth and compassion, ignoring the fears that had gripped so many of us during those early pandemic days.

She wasn’t just a house help — she was a mother, a woman full of dreams and wisdom. Though she had only studied until grade 6, her street smarts were unmatched, and she often spoke of her ambitions. She dreamed of buying a scooter, learning English, and giving her daughters a better future. Her stories became my connection to the outside world during those two long weeks. She told me how she had bravely left her abusive husband and how she yearned to break the cycle of hardship by ensuring her daughters were well-educated.

We often talk about heroes in capes or scrubs, but here was a woman, who with her simple words and extraordinary courage, taught me more than I could have imagined. Even though her education was cut short, her thirst for knowledge was unquenchable. She spoke of wanting to dye her hair, to learn English fluently, and to be independent.

Eventually, she left her job with us to pursue a new opportunity. For a long time, I didn’t hear from her, but she stayed in my thoughts. Then, just a few months ago, she returned for a visit and proudly shared the news of her success.

Her daughters had graduated, she had bought an apartment on EMI with her own hard-earned money, and she finally purchased the scooter she had longed for. She now works as a nanny for twins and even shared her excitement about her first flight — a moment that made her eyes light up with joy. And yes, she had dyed her hair just the way she had dreamed.

Listening to her talk, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for her. She had defied the odds, taken charge of her life, and written her own success story. I was no longer the sick girl in isolation; I was now an observer of a life transformed by sheer determination and resilience. And in her small, everyday acts of kindness, she had transformed my outlook on life, too.

That day in isolation, when she walked in with breakfast, I thought I was the one who needed care. But now, looking back, I realize that she gave me something far more valuable — she showed me what strength, kindness, and the power of human connection really look like. She made me realize that while education is essential, wisdom, compassion, and perseverance are the true markers of success.

In the end, it was never just about the food she brought in — it was about the love and humanity she infused into the act, reminding me that in the most difficult times, it’s the people who stand by us who make all the difference.

Sometimes, life’s greatest lessons come from the people we least expect. For me, it was a house help who didn’t let her circumstances define her. Her kindness during my time of isolation changed me in ways I never imagined, and her story continues to inspire me to this day.

“Fix you”- Coldplay.

This song deeply resonates with me and I consider myself lucky to have found this song at a difficult point of my life that has given me the strength at one of my lowest points.

My love for writing was at one point a coping mechanism to hide my pain. It was as if since I cannot communicate with the humans around me, let me talk to the pages.

Soon as I started posting it on Instagram on my private account, my friends deeply resonated with my words saying that I should post often. I think that gentle push is what made me write on such big platforms.

Before it was me talking to the pages but now its me using the internet as an archive for my emotions that might reach to people one day and they too resonate with it; it would mean the world if I am reaching out to people by the means of my words especially to those who need it.

Coming back to why I mentioned Coldplay. When I first starting posting on Instagram and later on HubPages, one of my works gained a lot of attention. “I highly doubt..” is a piece written by me and it is one of my favorites too since it captures the rawness of the emotions I felt while writing it. I would like to repost that same work on this platform and I hope you all enjoy it and all my support to you if that resonates with you.

“I highly doubt that you are okay,

Cause your smile does not conceal those red puffy eyes,

And the tight door of your room doesn’t make those shrill cries inaudible,

I understand if you have to cry,

but you need to promise yourself that you’ll get up again and try.

I highly doubt that you are happy,

Cause the smile is clearly fake,

You are smiling just to fit in,

just to forget everything that’s happened,

I understand if you need some space,

but you need to promise yourself that you’ll not shut yourself forever and come out with a happy face.

I highly doubt that you did not feel angry,

It’s okay to feel as if you want to hit someone,

Cause every once in a while you can lose your calm too,

I understand the reason behind why you are being so snappy lately,

but promise yourself that you’ll return back with poise completely.

I highly doubt that you don’t regret,

Cause your face shows that guilt and your eyes reflect that fear,

That feeling is hurting like a spear,

unexpressed and stuck in your throat; strangling the life out of you,

I understand if you need to be alone,

but promise yourself that you’ll move on because there are many bright future prospects to grab on.

It’s okay to get some negative feeling once in a while,

To balance the laws of nature,

Of course sadness can’t be given out but it can be transformed into happiness,

Cause matter is supposed to be conserved and feelings are supposed to felt and not reserved,

Believe, it’s not that difficult,

Every black cloud has a silver lining,

Maybe soon you’ll get to yours.

• Ishita Bose

With this thought I shall end my blog, I hope you enjoyed and happy reading. If you liked this piece do leave a few claps and thank you again!

Check me out on other social media apps!!

Until next time!

I have been staying with my grandparents for the last 4 years because of college. Staying away from home was not easy but after some time I got used to it.

Well thanks to my hectic schedule I could only visit my hometown TWICE in four years. So after my final year it only made sense that I could finally visit my parents while preparing for my master’s entrance exams.

After long hours of discussion finally a suitable date and time was selected for my flight. As the date approached I felt all tingly from inside, obviously I was excited to meet my parents but I was also kind of thinking about the changes in my schedule and daily planner since I was so accustomed to following one here for FOUR LONG YEARS.

Anyways, I had finished packing and checked myself in 12 hours prior to my flight (I had an afternoon flight at 5 PM IST) and was laying on bed anticipating what future had in store for me.

What I forgot was: “Things never go as planned.”

10 Hours before the flight….

I woke up early that day at 7 AM, I had to urgently visit my college to collect some important documents. I had my breakfast, confirmed if the documents were ready and left around 10:30 AM.

6 hours before the flight….

After a long wait in my college office I finally collected my documents are hurriedly booked an Uber. I had to reach home, have lunch, finish some final packing and leave around 1 PM. As I booked my Uber, I received a call from the airlines:
“Your flight number XX1234 has been delayed and will now depart at 1830 hours due to some operational issues, we apologize for the inconvenience caused.”
I was relieved at the fact that I had time to sort everything before leaving and also kinda tensed for some reason that I could not pin point. I informed everyone at home and had lunch peacefully and went to my room for some final packing.

4 hours before the flight….

Well, like I said there is uncertainty in even certainty. For more context, I received 3 more calls from the airlines and long story short my flight got delayed to even 2015 hours.
I was having a grueling headache with all the last minute purchases, packing, documents and checks. I called my parents once again and my father calmly suggested that I should take the next flight since by the time I reach the city it would be difficult for me to find a secure mode of transport.
We called the airlines, got my flight cancelled with full refund and my father immediately booked me a new ticket.

Well by now you must be thinking what epiphany did I get from this? I mean fine my flight got delayed and my father booked me a new ticket what is so life-changing about it?

But the main climax is yet to come.

I received my new ticket and saved it in my Apple Wallet and went for dinner with my grandparents and brother.

I had a layover in Delhi (which I must mention is one of the biggest international airports) so we were finding route maps and buggy's for easy transit between terminals. That’s when my phone buzzed and I froze.
My feet turned cold and I just blanked out.

I said to my brother: “Wait a minute, isn’t like flight times printed in 24 hour system?”

And there it all went down. 10 PM we are sitting and chatting, at 2:00 AM is flight’s departure. I frantically got up, changed real quick, bid my goodbyes and left, it all happened in a split second that I could hardly comprehend what was going on.

(The flight journey is a story for another day, and trust me when I say that it was a crazy experience.)

Well all’s well that ends well, I could reach the airport on time. Boarded my flight on time and reached Delhi.

My flight departed around 5:45 AM from Delhi, as I boarded my last flight for the day I sighed thinking this is it and I will be home in a couple of hours.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, I looked outside the window looking at the still dark sky that was slowly lighting up as dawn approached. I kept looking out, and thought how I planned to sleep since I could hardly take a nap.

I recollected the events of the entire day, rushing to and from college, finishing final packing and shopping, rushing out late at night and the crazy airport experience; the entire day felt like a movie which was slowly starting to fade as I winced obviously tired from the day’s event.

As I was lost in my thoughts I suddenly saw a beam of golden light cutting through the cloud, I stopped thinking about everything and just looked at the majestic view in front of me as the day slowly crept in. I was in awe, witnessing the sunrise from a flight was really an experience that was not physically on my bucket list but still I checked it off it.

I comfortably shifted in my seat closing my eyes with a smile on my face, well whatever happened on the day was a memory that I can forever narrate but did it dwell on me further? Not anymore. With the sight of the beautiful sunrise I could only think of reliving this moment over and over again.

When I reached home, my father apologetically said that he should have been more careful with the booking and that the previous flight was a better option. But I had different thoughts altogether.
Yes, I was extremely drained. The flight was at a very odd time, if I had stuck with my original flight I could’ve reached home way before and all the other experiences that I had could be avoided. BUT…..

A missed opportunity does not always mean it is the better one. Sure, things were easier in that case but the hustle I had to go through all paid off I was finally home. I learnt a lot of things from that experience.

As cliche as it sounds,
“After night, dawn comes. You cannot stop it from coming.”

Though it might just be a bad/adventurous experience and maybe I am just romanticizing it but what is world without a little romanticism.

If you have read this far, thank you so much.

Do check out my Instagram page (@textshpere__) for daily quotes and inspirations.
For more exclusive art content support me on Patreon (https://patreon.com/BioBytes?utm_medium=unknown&utm_source=join_link&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator&utm_content=copyLink)

Happy reading and good day!