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EP03: (Gentle*)Men

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(Gentle*)MEN – The Unsung Heroes We Never Wrote Songs About CHAPTER 1 Ye chand sa roshan chehra, zulfon ka rang sunehra… Gulaabi aankhen jo teri dekhi… Aankhon mein teri ajab si ajab si adayein hain… Ek ladki ko dekha toh aisa laga… I know, I know—you’re probably wondering why I’m throwing Bollywood’s most poetic praises for women into a blog about men. The title clearly says “GentleMen,” so where’s the relevance? Why am I being so unfair to the title? But you know what’s truly unfair? The sheer absence of Bollywood songs praising men. Women get compared to the moon, the stars, fragrant roses, and even bijli (lightning) when things get extra dramatic. But men? Silence. Nothing. At best, they’re called Majnu if they love too much or Devdas if they drink about it. Today, I want to change that. This is about  GentleMen —not the ones who roar like action heroes, but the ones who quietly exist, making life a little easier, a little safer, and a little more beautiful for the people ar...
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EP02: Not Just Roommates...

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There are some laughs that stay with you forever, echoing in the quiet corners of your mind. No matter how many people you meet, these laughs remain etched in your memories, a testament to the bonds that shape us. This is a story of Ashi and Manya—two women who, despite their differences, showed the world what true friendship looks like.   CHAPTER-1 Ashi and Manya met on the first day of college, thrown together as roommates in the chaotic hostel of their engineering institute. Ashi was the kind of girl who could make friends with a wall. Her laugh—loud, unapologetic, and infectious—was her trademark. She had a habit of checking her reflection in every shiny surface she passed.  Not for the desire of attention—no, no, she wasn’t   that   kind of person. But if there was a reflective surface anywhere between her hostel room and the classroom, she would   definitely   check her hair. Mess mirror? Check. Someone’s scooty mirror? Check. The glass windows o...
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EP01: Unpacking the “Later”...

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CHAPTER-1 Ananya and Kabir lived in the same bustling city, leading lives as parallel as train tracks, yet never quite meeting.  Ananya, a young graphic designer, often got lost in deadlines, promising herself she’d enjoy life “when things settled down.” She had a cupboard full of unworn dresses with tags still attached and a shelf of scented candles that had gathered so much dust. “Special days” she would mutter, even though her calendar seemed allergic to them. Kabir, a software engineer, was no better. His bucket list was like a museum—filled with things he admired but never touched. Learning to play the guitar? On hold. Hiking in the mountains? “Next summer, for sure,” he’d say every year. His fancy sneakers stayed protected in their box, and his vacation fund was always raided by “more practical” expenses. Their worlds collided one fateful Saturday at a small bookstore. Outside the bookstore there was a small chai ki tapri where Rajesh bhaiya and his daughter used to sel...
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Away from home, who's your most dialed ?

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As I near the milestone of completing one year in Bangalore, a little introspection session began in my head. Away from home, who's your most dialed? “Maa,” I replied without hesitation. “Most texted?” came another question. “Muma,” (Yep, she's upgraded to having two titles.) “And most missed?” the third question popped up like an uninvited guest. “Again, Muma,” I said softly, my voice fading just a bit. Then came the silence. Not awkward, but reflective, the kind that’s loud enough to pull you into deep spiral thoughts. "Why is it always her?" The answer felt as vast as it was simple: because she’s my anchor, my constant, my home . No matter how old I get or how independent I think I’ve become, she’s the one I keep orbiting around. I have been living away from home since I was 16. Life feels different now. At 16, leaving home was just a fun bus ride away. If homesickness struck, I could be home by dinnertime. But now, at 22, living in Bangalore, home feels like a far...
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Home : Between City Dreams and Small Town Peace

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After months in Bangalore, the city of never-ending noise and Netflix dinners, here I am, back home. Diwali had finally arrived, and so had I, dragging along a suitcase stuffed with just enough clothes to survive my mom's “How do you not have warm clothes?” interrogation. Ah, the joys of home. Note: The readers are encouraged to stress on the words written in "double" quotes. Landing back in my house felt surreal.  First, there's my bed! "My bed" With that fluffy old blanket that never needed a replacement and that pillow molded perfectly to my head over a decade.  Bangalore’s trendy memory foam has nothing on this!  And waking up in that bed to the familiar sounds of Papa’s 7 am bhajans, blasted across the house. In Bangalore, my 7 am means debating if I can squeeze in "five more minutes".  Here, there’s no choice – bhajans, chai, and Dad's banter about the rising cost of vegetables set the scene. And let’s be real, they’re actually at very ch...
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Therapy was expensive ...so I took a trip !!

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Let me set the scene. It’s Friday morning, I’m packing my bags for a weekend trip to Chikkamagaluru with my brother, one friend, and 23 complete strangers. "This will either be the best decision ever," I thought, "or the plot of my own personal horror movie." Spoiler alert: it wasn’t a horror movie (phew!). Instead, it turned out to be one of the most unexpectedly heartwarming and hilarious experiences of my life. 💪Checking off another thing from my bucketlist because Bunny from YJHD said "25 anjan logo ke sath trip pe jane ke liye guts chahiye hote ha! " Alexa... play YJHD background music ### Never Say No to New Opportunities (Even When You Want To) When this trip idea popped up, my first instinct was to run. Fast. Going on a trip with a group of people I had never met? Sounds like a setup for a reality TV show gone wrong. But in a rare moment of bravery—or possibly insanity—I said yes. And thank goodness I did. Saying yes led me to some of the most ran...
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A LETTER TO MY YOUNGER SELF ♾

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Dear Me, As I sit down to write this letter, I can't help but think of all the things I wish I could have told you when you were a wee bit younger and probably even more clueless. So, before I get all mushy, let me say this – if there's one thing I'd want to do for you, it's to help you break free.                                                                            Break free from the pressure to fit in. I mean, seriously, who wants to be part of that 'cool' crowd anyway? You've probably spent more time worrying about fitting in than it takes for the average person to decide what to wear on a Friday night – and we all know that's an eternity! You don't need to fit into anyone else's mold, my dear. You're a one-of-a-kind masterpiece. So go ahead and flaunt tho...
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