As I read this part-fiction, part-nonfiction book about Arundhati Roy’s life and her relationship with her mother, a thought gripped me that I couldn’t brush off. At its core, she has written about her life for a group of people to read, and it’s well appreciated; I even enjoyed the book. But when a lifestyle influencer does the same by vlogging their everyday life, people frown on it. It is as if I once read in a book that, for some reason, money earned through a lottery win is not as respected as money earned through a 9-5, when both are, in fact, just money.

There are parts in the book where she says she fell in love with a married man; later, they started to live together with his kids, and in the end she had to let go of all that. Or when she writes about a guy called Jesus with whom she was in a relationship, which did not last long enough cause both of them wanted different things from life, where he wanted to stay in Goa and she in Delhi. Or when she writes about a casual hookup she had with a way older guy who calls her Arundhathina.

It kept making me wonder: how does a book that deals with concepts like these, which is evidently the life of someone, get appreciated, whereas when someone does the same thing on a YouTube vlog, where he is married but gets a second wife, or openly talks about infidelity in his relationship? It’s totally frowned upon.

It could definitely be the difference in audience, but even then, why is one criticised to the point of being unbearable while the other is considered a literary marvel? Who sets the moral compass of what is acceptable when written but not when shown? Could it be the difference in how real-time the information is, cause in the case of Arundhati, all of this is from a past that she has already lived, and we aren’t a part of it? But for a YouTube vlogger, it’s in real life and what has happened in his life today. Does a sense of “Oh, something could be changed about this situation as it’s happening right in front of me” change our moral compass compared to something that’s done and dusted? I am not entirely sure.

Anyways, like a lot of other thoughts that keep catching me, this has been the latest that there is indeed so much in common between Arundhati Roy, who tries to make money by writing a book about her personal life and adding some fiction to it and a YouTube vlogger showing his life online to make some money from it by adding some fiction, aka lies.

Written without AI

Aiswarya MK

Day by day, basic everyday tasks like doing my dishes or laundry have started feeling like a chore, and I have to take time away from my actual task of doom scrolling, when I should be doing otherwise. It has come to a point that residing in the digital world is native, and the real world is where you come to take a break from it, while it has to be otherwise.

On top of that is a perfectly curated algorithm that keeps you in the loop and makes you feel in control, but you never know what the next video you’ll watch will be.

This behaviour of living as a digital native and skipping everyday life is fueled by quick delivery services where you get everything you want, or don’t want, in a matter of minutes. You know that maybe ordering in every day isn’t good or expensive, or it’s out of your budget, but then leaving your real world of the “ digital world” for the fake world where humans have to do work and where transformations don’t happen in seconds feels extremely bothersome.

Doomscrolling paired with AI has created another set of problems that make people feel learning is unnecessary. Oh, you wanna learn how to make music; why when an AI can generate something in minutes? Wanna create a cool cinematic video; why bother when a tokenised AI can do that task for you? I feel the world is slowly shifting into a realm where all you need is money, and money fuels all your decisions. That means a lack of it puts you out of the game. Oh, you don’t have enough tokens, sad, that you can create something of yourself only and take hours of your personal time, which you could have used for doomscrolling.

That is why I say: stop putting your everyday tasks into secondary categories; the real issue is that your room is messy and the laundry is dirty. Do them first and doomscroll later.

Curiosity got the best of me, and I did feel I was wasting my time learning something, so I created something on Claude. You might find it funny, but I did create this video; by the time I could ask it to create some more, there it was: my daily credit limit was over, and I had to upgrade by paying 2000 rupees or approximately $20. That’s expensive, so I am taking a pause here.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I started checking other video-generating platforms. It was the same thing again and again: 30 free credits, through which you could generate a 3-second video, and everything after that cost at least $10. I genuinely wanted to try something at least once, so I took a subscription to Higgs field for $10. And you’d think I would have created better videos. Still, the truth was that the $10 model doesn’t give you access to their best AI model, and with the 100 credits or something they gave me, I could generate only 1 video because the AI couldn’t understand what I was trying to say. Even with perfect prompts, there were mistakes cause AI fills gaps with stupidity.

And that’s when it hit me: AI is not replacing money with anything. Sure, it’s replacing tedious work, repeated tasks, and redundancy with convenience, but not the cost. At current wages in India, I believe a beginner-level editor might be making 50k a month, and his deliverables would include at least 2 videos a day, with edits included. With AI, you pay for every edit, every keyframe change, and every extra second. And when systems get continuously replaced to a point where having a human replacement is impossible, then who decides the cost of AI, and moreover, do we have a say in how much I am willing to pay? This might feel dystopian, but an AI system shuts down immediately when the tokens run out; a human might understand the situation and at least finish the file they’re on.

This tokenisation of tasks made me realise that a human provides much more value than just finishing the task, cause everyday decisions aren’t black and white; they are grey, and that’s why I said AI is good at its job only when there are enough tokens.

This article is about two people who have different approaches to music, one for whom it’s almost equivalent to the air they breathe, and to the other, it’s almost equivalent to the jokes their colleague tells them. They don’t mind it sometimes, but don’t want to hear it all the time.

On a date, after about an hour of roaming around, I was asked the question that I dread the most in a conversation.” What songs do you like? Why don’t you play something you like? “

​I have the same feeling every time I am asked this question, on a date, by a friend, by an acquaintance, as if someone had kept me under a hanging sword. The truth is, I never listen to songs at all. Now I just know that an immediate expression of frown and doubtfulness is about to follow me, but then I have data to back me up.

Every year, when people post their Spotify wrap, I do go and check for myself too, one of those very few times when the abandoned music listener in me is also reminded of Spotify, and it was 12 hr about half a day, is how much I have heard songs the entire year. A majority of the time its just those few songs that awaken particular memories in my mind, which I want to reminisce in a nostalgic way.Like those songs that reminded me of my first crush, my school days, or summer vacation, or maybe a sudden urge to listen to certain lyrics of a particular song again and again.

But then, for my friend Archie,

She doesn’t know how to express her love for music, but then have tried her best to put it into words.

My life is totally like a rollercoaster movie, and the music in every movie gives it the oxygen to breathe. A movie without music is simply so weird, I mean, the characters are moving, talking, doing their things, but I can’t feel life, or any of that intense scene, or any emotion without songs.

There are places of grief and joy in me that have no names, to be honest. But I can make you understand the same feeling through a song. It’s like in the background, going on every time.

I listen to music like I have a song for every single feeling, and somehow I can process all of my emotions through it. Basically, I feel things more intensely, delicately. It’s like a companion you never knew you needed, but you actually do.

Now, coming to me again, and my life without music

One time over at a friend’s place, I was asked the same question about music, and to my usual answer, instead of a frown, I got a question back, “Then what do you have in the background when you do things? “And I had to say absolutely nothing. I mean, I get that people love their playlist, that there is one for when they drive, when they are sad, when they are making out.

For me, any background music often sounds like noise that I don’t want to hear, and everytime i am asked this question i am a bit embaressed to say it and just want to hide something that makes me sound unclool and sometimes I do lie about certain artists or some songs, but the truth is I genuinely never cared about what music to hear or what artist to follow.​

But for Archie, she has a song and an artist for every occasion you can imagine

When I am in a room all locked in, and I can’t understand why things are going the way they are, putting up this is me trying by Taylor Swift gives me the space to make myself feel okay. When I feel butterflies in my stomach, or when my cheeks turn red while I’m on my phone, Labyrinth by Taylor Swift helps me feel all the love and happiness I am feeling at that moment. When I’m travelling, and I’m on the window side listening to something ethereal, it’s making me realize how far I’ve come.

Now this got me thinking about why I never heard songs,

Even as a chid i was never into music. I mean, I definitely enjoyed it, but not to a point where I wanted or wished it to be a constant background. Then it hit me that no one in my family hears music, so I just never got curious as a kid or formed an interest in it myself. Secondly, I enjoy silence way more than having music in the background, and third, and the most important, you cannot forcefully make yourself like something that you naturally don’t enjoy.

​I do listen to music rarely, when I remember a song, when my friends suggest something, or when I feel like I wanna hear my friend sing. But then, how much pretentious it may sound, end of the day, I have to accept I would just never go back home and put on a song cause what I feel in absolute silence is what I enjoy.

But then that’s just me and not other people like my friend, for whom music means everything, it’s not a background noise, listening to which isn’t bothersome to them

Overall, my stance here is that when I’m struggling, loving, crying, caring, or even doing any chore, a background song with some amazing words and good sound can really help me go. A song may not be that big of a deal for you. But, for me, I can cry my heart out, show my utmost affection, and tell about things I can’t in normal layman’s language through songs. And, I MEAN IT.

Who am I without songs? No, finding yourself in songs is different, and building your own persona around songs is a whole different thing. I feel life through songs, because I resonate with the lyrics, and understand what the artist is trying to say. And feeling life just because of a specific artist or a song tells you to, is totally bullshit.

And yeah, I feel like for people who don’t listen to music, have favorite artists, or have like a thousand minutes listening to songs on Spotify is totally alright. I mean, the best friend I have in the form of music is replaced by something else for you. So I hope you find something as I did in music.

Sometimes we as humans forget this very simple principle of life that not everyone likes and enjoys the same things, and we become quite judgmental about that. We have different opinions and interests based on the environment we grew up in, the people we are surrounded by, and something so innate to ourselves that cannot be explained.

I may not love music, but I would not mind it sometimes when I am with my loved ones, and Archie would not mind some silence when she is with her loved ones, and that’s why we said earlier, humans are a combination of everything that their loved ones love.

Written and experienced by

Archie and Aishu

During difficult office hours and tiring days with nothing to look up to, reading the book and getting to know characters and their story started being something I wholeheartedly looked up to, and today, as I have finished reading this book, I decided to write a small snippet of it and parts of my life that the book reminded me about. Mind you, goodreads review rate it a 4.1, but I am giving it a generous 3/5 rating

The story is narrated by a young boy, Danny, through whose eyes we get to see his parents, the house that he grew up in, the servants in his home, his girlfriends, kids, and most importantly, his sister Maeve, his favourite person and arguably the main character of the book.

As I read the book, it kept hitting me with sentences like “never judge your past with information that you have in the present or that their mother was flamboyantly poor” or “my dad was a man who never knew his wife.”

The book beautifully narrates how we end up being so much like our own parents or our loved ones, in our looks, in our behaviour, and maybe sometimes even in things we enjoy doing, like Danny, who was into medical school but ended up wanting to be in real estate like his father. Or May Danny’s daughter, who ends up having an uncanny resemblance to his sister Maeve, or Danny himself, who resembled his dad so much that at certain instances people mistook him for Conroy, his Dad. The book beautifully narrates this loop of an invisible thread that bonds families together through their shared happiness, traumas, sadness, and even a shared cigarette.

One thing that struck me the most was their mother, who, in everyone’s eyes, was a saint, but for Danny, a narcissist. The book has lines that describe their mom as a saint and justifies her behaviour of abandonment as “saints were universally despised by their families”. Justifying her behaviour, stating men like Odysseus, who left his family, were celebrated, cause he was a man, but when a female does it, somehow it becomes an issue. And for some reason, like Danny, even I could not agree to any of these cause people are wrong despite their genders, and no matter how much Mother Teresa complex you have, it’s always easier to be kinder to strangers cause they never have to permanently deal with you. The characterisation of his mother would be the sole reason why I rate this book a bit low.

The book definitely questions the idea of what we think of an ideal mother, and Danny’s mother isn’t definitely that, and then obviously mothers don’t have to be perfect, revolve their whole life around their children, and can choose to abandon them and live their own lives, cause thats what men do, right ?? But where the book falls short is when she tries to get back into the lives of the kids she had abandoned and other decisions she takes in the future, which clearly affect the personal lives of her kids.

Sometimes when we leave someone or something behind, we hope or think that in our absence, that particular something ends up in vain and not as good as when we were around, and the book even questions this idea and suggests that things can be beautiful even without our precense how much we hate to agree with.

There are instances in the book where Danny decided to marry his wife only cause he deep down missed the maid duty that she performed as a girlfiend, like keeping his things in place and washing his bedsheet and in general making his life smooth and then may be thats true for a lot of people their soulmate is just someone who would carry out all their perpetual tasks like laundry and cooking and housekeeping for them. At least Danny wasn’t shy enough to tell it to its readers.

As I kept reading the book, all characters in it were evidently flawed in some way, Maeve for forcing her brother to study medicine, Danny for choosing a wife just cause of convenience, Danny’s wife wanting his attention mainly cause he was about to be a doctor, their dad for funnily enough buying a home that their mom didn’t like. Nevertheless, aren’t we all humans like that, we carry our own flaws and sometimes in that process hurt people around us, but then that behaviour can never be unfortunately justified, but then it is what it is, I guess.

At times when there is a narration of Maeve and her mother’s life when Danny wasn’t around, it made me think of my own sister’s life when I wasn’t around, for I have never known a world where she wasn’t there. The house that we grew up in. People from our childhood that we haven’t seen in ages, but would still recognise.

Overall, the book is just a sneak peek into the life of Danny and Maeve, and as I said earlier, with nothing eventful happening. The book did remind me of a lof of things that happende in my own life, my relationship with my sibling, that whole image of when we moved into our new home as kids and my own mothers Mother Teresa complex of wanting to help everyone around and beign and saint and the idea that it someohow made them better than other humans and my dad who feels that its the thought that counts without checking the reality. A slow read that I would rate a 3/5, as I said earlier, and may not fall in my book recommendations list

Written and experienced by Aishu

No AI used

In case you have read the book, please comment down your thoughts

Some days I am too into drawing, and that’s the only thing that I will do, and once that book is kept on the shelf, there is no way I am going back to painting in months or years, probably, same to reading, watching a series, or a sports event, or anything for that matter. Even my interests are short-lived; either I’m too interested or not interested at all. Exact with my emotions, either I am too angry or jealous or sorrowful about things, or I am just too unserious and absent and joyful. Even my emotions become timid.

I behave the same with my food choices, one day I am the next wellness guru in town, ready to transfer my life and say things like “ oh, I start my day writing a gratitude note “.I wake up, meditate, take a shower, and do everything at a slow pace, and continue the day by cooking nutritious meals for myself, and then a day or so goes by, all I am eating is Diet Coke and ice cream. It’s either 3 meals a day or a Diet Coke for lunch and then crunching up in my bed.

As i get older i see this in the efforts that i put in my job or to built a life, one day i am all into wanting to study new things, create something of my own, run the world to say the least and the next day i catch myself having an internal panic attack just to catch my cab to office cause i dread the thought of being at my 9-5, small talks, deadlines, escalations and random caffeine breaks to keep myself go as a normal human.

It’s as if I have an inner parent who is too cautious about my behaviours that I pendulate between the extremes and never end up being at the normal ground. Too much salt or too little salt, never the right amount.A mix of self-criticism, anxiety, and overcorrection or undercorrection

I think there are a lot of people out there like me who are either not as conscious and end up adding way more salt in their life by putting in way more efforts, way more anger way more jelousy, way more times wearing the same outfit or too ignorant and ends up putting too less salt and have no more emotions to shows, no words left in their soul, no place to be and no friends to wish

Somedays i sonder about my own life and my own extreme behavious and try to add in a balance, but then i unfortunately haven’t been able to do so, I guess end of the day i am just a person who loves too loud, want to wear blue every single day, wants to read every book ever written or someone who doesn’t want to get out of their home, have conversations or watch a movie or smile at strangers. I guess I unfortunately cannot do things half-assed; it’s all black or all white and nothing grey for the adult me.

And that’s why I said earlier, I either add too much salt or too little.

Thanks to my reader, if any,
with love

Aishu ( written and experienced entirely by me, no AI used )

Series of events 1

Back in the summer of 2015, I saw a newspaper clipping of a college in Mumbai, whose movie club members had won a short film competition. I was insanely into the idea of directing a movie as a kid, and had immediately internally decided I would only join there for my undergraduate studies.

I figured out I had to crack an entrance exam to get into the college and to be in Mumbai, and I had convinced my dad that he would send me for a 3-month coaching in a different city during the summer vaccation. Despite all the hardwork i put in, i could’t get into the school I wanted to go, to and continue coaching in this new city, so I decided to come back home after 3 months.

Having completed my formal education i decided to drop a year and continue my preparation. Every day I would wake up at 5 in the morning in my hostel and sleep at around 12, and do nothing other than attend coaching and studying. I still failed to crack the exam and decided to drop the whole idea of doing engineering in Mumbai, or directing movies in their movie club, and went to do a BSc in Chennai.

Series of events 2

At that point i was devastated and almost considered that I was unlucky no matter what I did. But then all the hardwork i had done for my coaching played out too well for me during my BSc days. All through the first year i didn’t have to study much cause i knew everything cause of the entrance prep. I made great friends, had time to romance around, travel the city, and experience a lot of things for the first time in my life. I had even started writing a lot of stories in those days. In general, if I had a time machine i would want to go back to my undergraduate days. (But then todays story isn’t about this, so I am moving on.)

Three years went by like a smooth ride, and I even ended up being one of the toppers in my college. After graduation i had decided to pursue an MBA, but then decided to give the CAT exam with self prep, and in case my results were good enough for me to pursue it seriously, I would drop a year and go for actual coaching. I did about 5-6 months of self-prep at home and gave the exam in November 2022.

Series of events 3

During December 2022, I suddenly got this idea of whether there were any MBA colleges in Goa (for obvious reasons), and then there was this one college that did look pretty decent and was on a tier 2 level. I was like, let me check the admission criterias and they had 3 of them. The first was called the achiever round, the second was called the elite round, and the third was called the CAT round. I checked the Achievers round, and it said if you have any three noteworthy achievements, you could apply, and then it got me thinking, I genuinely had only one achievement, and the fact that I was my college topper and nothing else, so I just left the hope and then let the day go by.

The next day i was like, but then what was the Elite round? I went back to the website and checked, and it said, and I quote, “If you are the topper of any of these colleges, you can apply”.I opened the list, and there I saw my undergraduate college name.

The full circle

I applied for admissions (mind you i hadn’t applied for any other colleges), and the very next day after the CAT results were announced, I had my admission interview. I obviously cleared my interview and CAT criteria, got into my college, did an MBA in Goa, and out of all places in the world, got campus placed in Mumbai.

Fast forward 10 years

To this day i cannot fathom whether it was the newspaper clip or studying in Chennai and being the topper or the idea of doing an MBA in Goa that got me to Mumbai. Any ways i guess life has a way of moving in circles.

Thats it for my readers, if any

With love, Aishu ( Written and experienced entirely by me, no AI used )

Suddenly, from a random Monday, it isn’t about exams and partying with your friends or hoping your crush replies to your texts. It’s about making money, being accountable at work, and figuring out your personal life.

As someone transitioning into their adulthood, owning up to your mistakes, changing your life, all of this takes way more time than we could imagine. I could hate my job, but then I have bills to pay, so I have to show up at the office no matter how much ever i don’t want to go. Of course, there are always friends or your parents or your partner who you could call and share your worries, but then at the end of the day, they cannot come and live your life for you. The maximum they can do is give you their time, maybe some money when you are struggling, but then ultimately, to change your life, you will have to put in the effort all over again.

The issue with putting in effort is that you have already put in so much of it in school, college, and for the job, and you’re kind of hoping that your past efforts have cushioned your present life, but then things don’t unfortunately go that way. It’s almost as if I am saying you have to live your life every single day.

Something I wasn’t ready for myself was the number of choices I had to make and the amount of things that I had to deal with personally that I had never done before. Nobody is going to call the plumber if the tap stops working at your place. Oh, you run out of groceries, your cookware got damaged, your clothes aren’t in the laundry yet, you have dishes piling up in your sink, you cannot run away from these chores, and most of the time, their perpetual nature consumes so much of your energy and at some point it does feel like all i am doing is cook, clean, go to office and then sleep. I catch myself anticipating the weekend as if those two days are when i supposed to live my life.

One thing I have realised is that early on, you have to slowly start having systems in your life where certain time slots of your day are dedicated to the perpetual tasks like cooking, laundry, and dishes, and you have to stick to it no matter how you feel, cause its just about getting those things done and making sure they dont’t consume your mental energy later on.

You have to start saving up money, even if it’s an extremely small figure. This seems like such a no-brainer piece of advice, but the truth is, you cannot manage adulthood alone forever, and money does bring in that much-needed safety net you would like to have, cause lets be honest, 99 % of the issue could be solved with some extra money in hand.

Lastly, sleep wellness and nutrition do matter a lot cause you slowly start recognising the changes in you as you age, your skin doesn’t heal as fast, you are too tired to go out past 12 pm, you even sometimes don’t wanna watch things that are overly stimulating your emotions, like extremely sorrowful movies or even dramatic conversations in life. You can’t be droomscrolling forever and have a dopamine crash happen to you, and have to put in extra efforts to enjoy life outside of the phone, a walk, painting something, maybe even just writing.

And that’s why I said earlier Nobody is coming to save you during adulthood, but you will figure out things like you always did

Thats it for my readers, if any

With love, Aishu ( Written and experienced entirely by me, no AI used)

Today, when I randomly remember him on a Sunday afternoon as an adult, I don’t think of him this way at all. I am just left with the thought that at least Icarus died trying what he felt like doing, unlike many of us who die without even trying.

Exiled from the land that no longer wanted him, flying for the first time, he falls in love with the sky and just wants to reach it. Obviously, had he been cautious about his feather made of wax and it mealting away, he would have been alive, but then every single day he would have regretted not going close to the sky and never touching it.

Maybe he would have cursed his past self for never even trying. He could have also spend his future days trying to replicate those wings made cautiously by his father so that he could fly again one day and ended up failing everysingle time or maybe succeed one day fly and die of the same manner or discover some other material that could bind better than wax, not trap the water of the sea and melt with the heat of sun and just fly like a bird.

But the truth is all of this does not matter cause the future is never promised, and what is reality is the present, and he just did not give in to the illusion of the future. After all, he died trying to touch the sky, and when he could not and when his wax wings melted, he believed that his dad would save him. Isn’t that in itself amazing too that he wasn’t afraid of trying something he loved because of the fear of his parents’ disapproval, and completely trusted that in case he fell, his dad would be there to save him.

A lot of the times we as humans are too afraid to try things because we keep thinking about practicality and rationale. And I agree that practicality and rationale matter, money matters, your time matters, but at the same time, we only have one life, and that too every single day we are running out of it. Not giving yourself a chance to try what you really want to do by worrying about your environment, your resources, or, in general, what people would think might stop you from having the greatest happiness of your life.

After all, even though Icarus died, he did not die of self-subjugation.

And that’s why I said Atleast icarus died trying, and many of us die without even trying.

(In my heart i do wish he was saved by godesses of the sea or the sky. But the point of taking risks is that there is a downside to it, which you should be ok with)

Written with love
Aishu ( no AI used )

After countless nights of thinking about this question. I have realised that life is just a wave that oscillates between positive and negative emotions. Now, mind you i did not say experiences and used the term emotion cause the same experience could be emotionally interpreted differently by two different people. Me winning 1000 rupees i would be over the moon. Elon Musk winning 1000 rupees, yeah, let’s not get into that conversation, especially when the rupee is depreciating.

Anyway, my point is, the whole of life is just a journey of experiencing these positive and negative emotions in an oscillating manner. And since the frequency, wavelength, and amplitude ( Yeah i was a physics student, I had to use it somewhere) of these waves are different for different people, essentially every one have different/unique life. Wait, did that sound too simple?

And obviously everyone has a different wave, and unfortunately, since life itself is unfair, some people end up having waves touching the negative sides a lot more times than the others, and I cannot question the fairness of life cause then I should be willing to answer the reasoning for my existence, which I do not have. Hence, some people have relatively sorrowful or blissful lives compared to others.

Now, the next big question is whether these waves are predefined? Do I have no free will? Or do I have free will ?? If my life is already predefined, then what’s the whole point of living ???

I guess I have an answer to this, some points in the curve definitely are predefined, like the sorrow I would feel when my loved ones pass away. I can never run away from it, as a human, I am bound to experience death if not of others, then my own, without doubt. Some people’s waves are longer, so they live longer. Some people’s waves are shorter than others, so they..........., yeah, you guessed it right.

Now, how are these waves formed? Who predefined it? Is it God, or those planets? My simple answer is unavoidable points on the wave, like your birth and death, and thus, the emotions associated with them are predefined. Now don’t ask me if you are born cause you are destined to die one day, or you die cause you were born one day. I don’t have answers.

Rest depends on things you can control, such as your actions, your hard work, your will, and others depend on things that you can’t control, like the country you are born into, the religion you are born into, your parents, etc.

Overall, the wave is made up of things you can control, and you can’t control.

This is also why, even though on the simpler scale, life is just a wave, but since so many permutations and combinations exist, all of us end up experiencing different lives, and this also explains the reason why two people don’t experience the same life cause emotionally they experience all events in their life differently.

Some maths for anyone interested

If 1 person can experience an event in 20 different ways in his life (like the image added above ). The 20 different ways being (10 on the positive side and 10 on the negative side ), can you guess how many unique permutation combinations of waves these people can have if they all live up to 100 years, considering we are making a day chart for 100-year data?

It would be 365*100 = 36,500 days, and each day can have 20 possibilities.

And that is 20^36500 = an astronomically large number.

Just a reminder that 20^10 = 10 trillion.

So your whole existence is a unique wave from an astronomically large number of wave possibilities.

How amazing is that?

And that’s why I said, life is just a wave of oscillating positive and negative emotions.

For my readers, if any

With Love (Aishu)
Written and experienced entirely by me ( No AI used, no CAP, but I don’t think AI can think all that )

At the office, an employee who’s just eager to go home at 6, at the park, a random lady who comes for a walk every day at 8. In a group of friends, someone who just wants to listen. Alone with a friend, someone who just wants a listener. My friends know all my stories, some of my stories, half of my stories, and only parts of them. Sometimes the same stories are narrated differently. Sometimes I speak as if I were the hero, or the villian or an absolute idiot, all depending on the listener.

At home, someone who has a temper tantrum, who shouts and is lound and to the outer world may be someone calm and composed, who never wants to have a conversation. To strangers, a stranger who they can ask the way to someplace nearby.

To my closest friends i do sometimes remove the mask, not all of it but most of it. But I am happy wearing the mask of that person whom you go for your book recommendations, or who was your first crush, or your first kiss. To some, I am going through an emotionally rough patch, to others i have it all figured out. To some, someone you can even call at 3 am. To some, someone who never picks up the call.

To some, I am their lover. But to all my lovers i was a different me. Someone young and in love for the first time. Someone prioritising career over love, and to certain someone, someone prioritising them over anything.

Even to myself i wear a mask sometimes, certain lies that I tell myself.Certain parts of me i that i dont want to accept yet. Parts of me that I want to bury deep down, and that’s why I said earlier that I wear a mask for every person I know, including myself.

Thats it for my readers, if any

With love

Aishu ( Written and experienced entirely by me, no AI used )

Time escaped, and recently, on a video call with a friend of mine, one of his colleagues waved at me, and this question caught me again: who was she? Then the obviousness caught me that people around me have lives that i dont know about, stories that they never talk to me about, people they share a laughter with, that I would never know about. But then you remain oblivious to all these for most of your life, unless suddenly caught with this grave question.

Do I even know about everything they like or dislike? I know the ones they speak about, like the colour blue, or watching Fight Club, or that they are a beach person, and that 4 is their favourite number. But will I ever know how much it irritates them to wait at all signals when they have to be somewhere urgent, what lies they have told their moms for their childhood mischief, what random songs remind them of their past love, i dont think I will get to know that, maybe if I tried, they might share something, but not everything, and I guess may be i dont have the time to hear everything or enjoy it as they did

My friends would have gone on trips that I am unaware of. With people visited places that I have never been to, and heard stories that I would never hear. They might have had relationships that they never told me about. That childhood sweetheart of theirs who kissed them on their cheek in the school corridor when no one was around.Movies that they secretly enjoy, movies that they rewatch in silence for a 100 th time. Movies over which they had their first fight, first smoke, first confession, it shatters my heart to know that I will never know any of these.

We might be sharing an ice cream while they are hiding stories of their parents’ fights, their mom’s tears, their dad’s arrogance, or their siblings’ love. Some stories about things they used to fight as kids, like for the TV remote, or to see a show, or even over something like their favourite footballer or that nice shiny lipstick.Times when their parents weren’t around, and they cooked something together or sneaked in their friends or lover, took out their dad’s vehicle for a ride. I would never be part of those stories. I might get a sneak peek into what they did, but I can never experience those moments as they did.

But then, do I know about my own mother? Do I even know anything about her, her childhood? Yes, obviously that one time when she had long hair and dad really loved it, or her wedding days, or things she used to do with her siblings, maybe. But what were her worries when she was young? Did she ever have someone who stole her heart? How did she deal with the grief of her loved one’s passing away ?? Does she miss sharing an ice cream on a hot summer day with her friend, but then who was her friend? I would never know.

There is so much we know about our loved ones, and at the same time, so little. In the end i guess we never truly know ourselves or our loved ones, and maybe when our souls meet each other in other realities, we would know each other more.

Thats all for my readers, if any

With love

Aishu (written and experienced entirely by me, no AI used )

On hard days when tears trickle down my eyes, to fill the floor, I pick up my phone and text my friends, but from within all i wanted to do was text my ex with whom i haven’t spoken for years, how much ever i go to my blocked list, look at his contact and zoom on his profile, i never would sent in those texts cause as much as i feel the soothness of his voice, the guilt he made me feel sents shrills through my bones to ever text him. It feels like going back to my past self from whom I have been running away all these years.

I think of old gone friendships when some days i suddenly remember something of the past and almost as nostlagic, i do get the thought of texting an old friend and just asking her everything about her life since we last met and regardless of how much i feel this urge i know i am never gona send that text, its not ego, In their eyes i am the old me, and I can’t bear to see the reflection of my old self through them.

I am afraid of talking to strangers cause i feel, what if they are expecting me to say more, be more, consider inviting their presence in my life. I turn pale as a ghost from within, and I can barely pay attention to what they are speaking because all I can think about is the hope that they don’t expect more from me, more words, more kindness, more time, more of anything. I am urged to leave behind those small conversations with strangers.

It’s like those favourite hobbies of mine that I left behind; however much I tried to get back to them, it was never the same. It was as if my passion for it was timed and limited for the past version of me, who had a chance of enjoying it but was ignorant, thinking of the future, unaware that passion also had a stopwatch.

In the same way, I cannot go back to reading my favorite book again, and it doesn’t feel the same; I almost end up hating it. I start questioning my past self for having poor choices, completely aware that I am in a new realm of reality, far away from what my younger self could have known or imagined. But I then I don’t wanna go back and even agree to the opinions of my younger self.

Old photos of my gallery and Old mistakes of mine haunt me like Icarus following the sky, knowing the consequences. At times, my present self wants to escape and go back to the past, but then even if I miss home, I can’t go back, and even if I go back i have to make a return sooner or later.

For my readers, if any

With love

Aishu (written and experienced completely by me, no AI used)

Recently, as I was listening to music on Spotify and was quite literally annoyed by an Ad after every other song, I thought to myself, should I just give in and pay for premium, and then it suddenly hit me that maybe rich people never see Ads at all. Cause quite literally, money is the only tool that can buy you peace from these ever bothering Ads on streaming websites, OTT platforms, even Youtube and they may never be bothered even once cause everything is a paid subscription. Then it occurred to me how even seeing Ads is a socio-economic class experience.

This got me thinking about other experiences in my life where I felt that someone with money does experience a different life in ways we don’t even imagine.

This one time I was talking to a guy, and we were discussing rents, and for his seemingly extremely nice building in one of the most expensive parts of bomaby he paid a lesser rent, and I was curious and asked him how much brokerage and deposit he paid, and he was like no brokerage and no deposite and my eyes were quite popped out. It turned out the place belonged to a family friend of his who lived abroad, and all they cared about was the place to be clean, and I was like, that is definitely some sort of privilege in a city like bombay were rents are unimaginable. I almost call it nepotism in my mind cause giving out a rental property at a 30 - 40% discounted price for their friends is only what a rich person can afford and experience.

Kids every year pass out with hopes of getting a job, sometimes having topped classes, but then one of their classmates, without as much merit as them, ends up getting a job, and the only difference is the phone calls their dads made to their connections to secure that job. Whatever you say about the economy or the job market, referrals still work, and a rich dad eventually does make that call. Sometimes, mistakes detrimental to the whole career of someone without money are thrown away as a minor mistake or even a learning curve for someone with money.

I happened to attend a cricket match, seated way back, which got me thinking that a stadium in itself is an actual reflection of socio-economic class and wealth gap. As the ticket price increases, the number of seats decreases and if you somehow end up in the most expensive tickets, chances are people quite literally would know each other and in conversations with you they would try to associate you to someone they already know and the moment they realise you are there by random luck cause say you got those tickets in a spin and win competetion, that would almost be the end of the conversation or to say, they might not be as interested as before.

People with money rarely choose anything inconvenient, obviously, other than if they want to personally experience it. Want to go from Mumbai to Delhi, that last-minute expensive flight ticket is worth more than ever, even thinking about sitting in a train. I had once overheard students in my college talking to their parents about having booked a ticket right away cause they felt like coming home. Quite a luxury and convenience that many in our country don’t even think about. The reality is that even the flight tickets we book are booked months ago. I have even known someone who never ever quite literally booked anything cause their dad had a designated person to book their flight, concert, travel, or quite literally anything ticket.

I guess all of us have seen those calculations on how much time it would take to built the amount of money that elon musk has, and its goes somthing like $100 for every second for 100 + years and quite literally that’s not humanly possible other than if you are buying other people’s time to make more money and thats also what their previous generations did ( generational wealth - the obvious fact that money a lot of rich people have is compounded wealth from their great great grand parents )

This also reminds me of a conversation that I overheard when I was walking through a rich neighbourhood, where the dad was telling his son that there are levels to creating “wealth”; they weren’t even talking about making money, surviving, or existing.

Now you might think if you studied enough and somehow ended up in Harvard on scholorship you might be on their level, sure definitely that would be a stepping stone into being rich, but then you will also have to be ok with seeing how easy things are for the rich, how convenient it is for them to spend money, rent a place, how they can manage so many different interst, cause all of it is conveniently placed into their life through money, the best coaching institutues, sports academy, nutrition, leisure and what not.

(not trying to undermine anyone’s hard work, just saying how money does make a lot of difference)

Thats it for my readers, if any

With love, Aishu ( no AI used )

I have lately realized that during my conversation with my friends or family, a lot of the time I reference something, saying “ Did you see that reel ??”, or “ I saw this reel,” and gone are the days when I would gobble up a book in a day and talk about it to my friends. I would rather talk about a reel that I saw. Slowly, during conversations, my brain can only think about these little videos its owner keeps seeing.

I recently got to know about this term called “digital colonization”, where big tech companies control the data of humans and hence control humans themselves. I feel that above this, there is a huge “opinion colonization” happening where all our opinions are based on these small 5-second videos.

Even our understanding of the world, and our opinion about movies we watched or sports events we saw, kind of started depending on what the person on the reels has to say. I mean, how many times have we seen a movie and just searched up a review on it as if we don’t already have an opinion?

I mean sure thats where the whole world is at, also since there is a possibility of making money through these videos yourself one day, you can quite never get out of the loop of watching them cause you are always reminded “ i can make something like this “, may be “ i should stop my career and start making one of these “ or the classic “let me just spend hours comparing my lives to other “ or give my brain random doses of continues dopamine so it never recovers.

The problem with a dependence on just one source of media is obviously slow confirmation bias and algorithms that are designed to agree with what you think is right .”Oh, you think the US is on the right side of the war? “ Let me just show you those videos. “
Oh, you think “Iran is on the right side of the war? “ Let me just show you those videos.”
Oh, never mind, you think you should stop doomscrolling and start your career as an artist, “ let me show you that. “

The fact is, there is at this point genuinely no true escape from this unless you spend months on de-addiction from phones, slowly shifting from your phones to other offline media like books or newsletters, or slowly drifting from short format vidoes to long-format ones.

The decision-making process online has gone as quickly as just seeing the thumbnail of a video and deciding that’s your opinion about something, rather than even seeing it.

Slowly gone are the days when individuals are allowed to have opinions that the masses don’t agree with, and also gone are the days where approval of the audience did not matter to the creator. It’s not a personal fault but more of the system.

I mean, how many times have we posted a photo we really like and then gone back and looked at it 100 times to confirm who liked, who did not, and what people commented and messaged you? I think the bigger question is - how many times do we actually post something without being worried if our audience would like it? It has come to a point that, even if you personally did not like something but the masses did, it is of more value as external appreciation is slowly being deemed more important than internal.

Added to this is that it’s so difficult to just keep your phone away and do something other than doomscrolling cause my brain at this point is so addicted to it, it’s as if a druggie not getting his drug. I want to check my phone often, even if there is nothing to see.

The solution to this is obviously not abandoning watching reels altogether cause let us be honest its not possible in todays day and age, all we could do is conciously make an effort to consume other source of information, than reels and in case you see something on reels and think its true and wanna form an opinion, try and read or understand more about it. It’s ok if you can’t form an opinion in five seconds, and it’s completely ok if it makes you uncool.

That’s it for my readers, if any.

With love, Aishu ( written entirely by me, no AI used)

Disclaimer: I have never read or watched the Harry Potter series because the fantasy genre does not interest me, but I have been surrounded by friends my entire childhood who absolutely adore this show and the books and always recommended it to me, so my observations are from a third-person perspective.

The first Harry Potter book, The Philosopher’s Stone, was released in 1997, and the first movie adaptation of it, called Sorcerer’s Stone, was released in 2001. We stand about 25 years apart from the release of one of the most celebrated book/series releases of the 21 st century. J K Rowling was all over every kid’s bookshelf or their movie watch list, as the author who was rejected 12 times by publishers but remained persistent and believed in herself and got her book released. To some extent, this was also imparted as some identity of hers.

But from the book release in 1997 till its adaptation in 2001 there was a good 4 year gap where the book had genuinely grown by word of mouth and people were reading it waiting for the next book to drop and a genuine connection between young kids reading the book and then having an imagination formed about the Harry Potter world, to watching the Harry Potter movies and absolutely loving it. When the last Harry Potter series show was released in 2010 /2011, I remember how excited a lot of my classmates and the media in general was and it truly was a pop culture event and may be the ultimate sign that validated that JK Rowling was indeed the most popular and celebrated writer out there.

Coming to today’s world, I could just not stop wondering how many kids have read the JK rowling book through self-discovery, where they have heard about it from their friends or cousins, or randomly stumbled on one of the movie clips and genuinely wanted to see all of it.

Adding to this is the unavoidable elephant in the room, the fact that JK Rowling herself was facing a lot of backlash about her comments on gender and sexual identity, which also shows an extreme evolution in her earlier audience and obviously her newer audience.

The bigger question is whether kids are genuinely going to discover this series and would be interested in watching it, or if it will turn out to be their millennial parents forcing them to watch the latest adaptation of a show that was a huge part of their own childhood in an attempt to relive it with their kids

Each Harry Potter movie was an an avergae about 2 .3 hours long, and they were sometimes released in consecutive years, sometimes skipping a year or two in tandem with the book relases and the world did wait for each of these drops, and the majority of kids did genuinely read those books and related to those characters and looked forward to it.

But in todays world, do kids have the attention span to watch something like this, which is supposed to run about 8 episodes each season and span over years? Will that genuine interest in waiting for the new drop still last, or the question is whether there is even an interest in wanting to wait for the next episode or the next series?

Also, the fact that the characters in these movies were genuinely crushed upon by kids, they had their favourites, they had their first crushes through these characters, and funnily, their first enemies too.

But having said that, kids today might be expecting more on the gender and sexual identity of these kids, and they may love to see characters that aren’t just straight. A big question is whether the series would adapt itself to these concepts and if so, will it be accepted by the audience who, by and large, are millennials,/millennials’ parents, and adult Gen Z now.

As time passes, I am genuinely interested to see how the series pans out, how the media covers it, and all the PR strategies to make this show work, and if it would ever see 10 seasons or would be shelved after a few seasons. And my final thought is that the shows the biggest ambassador is gonna be millennials who are also parents now, and cannot be avoided, at the same time, it needs to adapt to the ever-evolving modern media and consumers who are bombarded with 5 reels every minute, and obviously, kids who aren’t as easy to please as before.

Even if the show wins or flops, it would definitely be a big case study for all the media people, MBAs, and even writers.

Thats all for my readers, if any

With love, Aishu ( written entirely by me, no AI used)

This time through my writing, I am trying to be a bit poetic about breakups, and as you read, I want you to imagine yourself as her.

She woke up as usual with the rays of the sun hitting her tender skin. The day seemed to be calling for something whimsical. Out of nowhere, she decided that maybe she needed to take a walk and get herself some flowers. She gets ready and goes for a nice flower hunt. On the way, she stumbles upon a flower shop; everything about it seemed nice, and she decides to get herself some lilies. On her way back, she caught a new idea: why don’t I get myself a new vase just for these flowers? I mean, was that vase really necessary?? not really.At least not at this point cause she had enough ones at home that could be upcycled into a vase for these flowers. But then she decided that they needed something special and walked a bit and got herself a blue vase for her pink lilies.

On reaching her home, she found a well-lit place for her vase and the lilies. Now every day she would sneak glances at her new beautiful settings. As days and seasons passed, the lilies were replaced by roses, sunflowers, lavenders, and whatnot. By now, the vase and the flower had attained a personality of their own, which they also imparted to the personality of the room, and sometimes with the girl herself.

Years passes and one day as she was cleaning her vase, it accidentally fell out of her hand and shattered into pieces. She was sorrowful, but the broken pieces needed to be cleared, or else they would pose the threat of wounding her. She cleaned everything off, but as days passed, she would find pieces of the vase here and there, and sometimes she accidentally stepped on some hidden piece. It did hurt her initally but as time passed, all the pieces were wiped away.

Every now and then, she would walk through her hall and then feel a sudden shot pain, as if hit by the atom of the vase left behind, but there was nothing and over time, she got a new vase, initially did not like it, or wasn’t sure if she needed one or could have upcycled something, but then carried away with her life.

Sometimes she is reminded of her old blue vase, but then only in vain memories of it piercing her feet now and then.

Now back to reality

A lot of the time, relationships are like these vases, they enter our life, spread their magic and colour to our life, sometimes they last for a lifetime, and other time ineveitabily fall and break, no matter how much we try. The broken pieces, how much ever we sweep the floor is gonna find a way to hide and pain us someday. But then, on some days, only the atoms of those memories would be left, and we would be long carried away by time into other vases, other homes, other cities, and other realities.

To all my readers and me, if any

With Love

Aishu ( written and experienced entirely by me, no GPT used )

The story goes a few months back when i was new to Bombay with no friends and specially no lovers, and like any other gal alone in a new city coping with loneliness i tried to download bumble and go on a few dates and for obvious reason all of them flopped but then i decided to give credit to these three incidents that made me never ever wanna date again.

No 1: A magician

So I matched with this guy who was from Bombay, but studied and works in Delhi, and moves back and forth between these two cities. We talked a bit, he seemed decent, and didn’t obviously suggest sleeping together or sexting, a hook-up, or whatever. I was pretty happy with the conversations, and we decided to meet at the iconic spot, none other than Marine Drive. My only thought was if nothing works out i would just take the local and go back home. He showed up 30 minutes late and was like oh aren’t you angry and I was like idk, i wasn’t that bothered cause the fear of sitting at Marine Drive at around 9 pm in a city I was completely new to consumed me enough to even think if he was on time. We started to talk, things were going pretty fun, and then he was like let me show you something, and I was like sure why not.

He goes back to his vehicle and comes back with a deck of cards and starts showing me magic, (yeah i am dead serious, this did happen to me) he showed me three magic tricks and to say the least i was extremely impressed, we continue to chat and obviously no hint of anything sexual and later he asked me where i stayed and stuff like that and started talking about his home and cats they own and then suddenly out of nowhere he was like ““hey you want to take me back to your place????””

I was shocked, and suddenly the thought that he did all this magic stuff to just sleep with me on the first date eventually hit me, and that was the most inhuman or the most humiliating experience I had ever had in my life. I obviously denied and called it a day, and he dropped me near my home.

What bothered me most was that he was just hiding his intention, he could have just said it during text or before his whole magic show, and the truth is, on a second date i might have agreed. But idk he just wanted to make me feel humiliated and wanted me to know “hey i just showed you all those magic tricks, “ so I could show you the fourth trick that was “ can you take me to your place? “

No 2: The Money Guy

So again, trying my luck, I matched with this guy who was a chef, and during the conversations he was like, I know this really good momo and ice cream place. The best in bombay we can go there, and I was like ok, let’s do that. He comes on time, we go on the date, things are pretty normal, he definitely wasn’t my type appearance wise but seemed like a nice guy. But then, as the conversation progressed, he would just not stop financially assessing me. How much rent do you pay? What does your dad do? What caste are you? I mean, bro, chill, we are on our first date. We later went to the ice cream place he suggested, which would only take cash as payment, which neither of us had. We ended our day at naturals, and even there, he was like my dad does this, we have so much money this that, and internally, all I was thinking was when will I get out of all of this. I paid for the ice cream since he had paid for the momo, and later he dropped me back near my home.

Tip to anyone trying to date: When you are trying to financially judge someone its too evident even if you think you are being subtle

No 3: The lawyer - He solely takes the credit for me deleting Bumble.

This time i was talking to this guy who was a lawyer, and he seemed to be super hardworking, sending me pics of him working till 1 am and stuff

[ Have I had an extremely bad experience trying to date Layers before ?? Yes. Did I still try to do it again, also Yes.]

So the conversations were pretty normal, and how both of us were looking for something casual and whatever, and he was like, do you wanna meet and obviously I was like not at like 1 am. But you know, whenever both of us were free. And then obviously from our conversations it was clear that both of us were only free during the weekends, and we decided to meet. So on Saturday, he was like, hey, are we meeting, i was like, “ Sure, “ and since he stayed pretty close, I guess 2-3 kms away, i didnt dress up or anything. Later, he was like i will have lunch and text you around 3 pm. Please remind me at 2 pm. An extremely weird request, but I was like okk. and then at 2 I was like hey you asked me to remind you at 2, and he was like I will have lunch and text you. And then no text, no replies, no nothing. I did wait for his text for a bit, then obviously carried on with my day.

The next day, around 11 am, this bitch texts me again sayin hey can we meet today at 3 pm and obviously I was furious, and I was like weren’t you supposed to text me at 3 yesterday and he was like, “yeah” and that’s it. No reply, no taking accountability, no nothing, and I got even more furious and texted him that I would have loved to know where he got his audacity from

I obviously unmatched him immediately and deleted the whole fucking app cause that was my last straw.

Thats it for my readers, if any

With love

Written and experienced entirely by Aishu ( no ChatGPT used)

Yesterday I started my day with what the internet wellness gurus tells us is the best way to start your day, I woke up early got ready and went for a morning jog for about 3-4 kms and a 15 minutes meditation session by the sea and then followed it by a match session at one of my favourite cafe nearby reading a book, sounds performative, sounds like somthing that might have helped me a bit and sounds like a great start to my day. However, the truth is that, for some reason, nothing changed.

I came back home feeling as lonely as before. The mess around my place was taking up all my mental space. I did try to clear it out, but for some reason, it felt never-ending, and I stopped midway cause i could not keep doing this tiresome activity of cleaning my room, and for some reason, the day kept getting worse.

“ A work email on a weekend”
”My stove stopped working, I guess I am out of LPG. “
And for some reason, I started feeling super hungry without knowing what I wanted to eat

So I did what I usually do to avoid reality, that is, scroll on Instagram. I was hit by sudden dopamine, and then the guilt of wasting my time and not doing anything in real life enveloped me, and all I could do was start crying (yeah, sometimes I am just like that )

All this while being helpless i am texting my friend what to do, asking Claude what to do, and then suddenly I felt, why dont i just sleep? Maybe tomorrow when I wake up, I might feel a bit better and have the mental and physical energy to clean my place, sort my stove issue, and send that work mail.

so thats exactly what I did, no more journaling, no positive self-talk, no meditation, just slept and gave my body and mind some rest.

Today I woke up, and no issue of mine is solved, but atleast i have the mental energy to get started and do things one by one.

and thats why I said somedays no amount of self-prep talk, journaling, meditation, running, talking to your friends is going to save you, you just have to sleep and start a fresh day again

Thanks for reading, readers, if any

With Love

Aishu (Written entirely by me, no ChatGPT used )

Living in Mumbai has given me a lot of perspective on a lot of things, such as classism, language, being busy all the time, pretending to be busy all the time, and much more. But this time it’s something about death, humans, and the unintentional but unbreakable bond that you share with your family.

Not to start things on a sad note, but recently one of my neighbours passed away, as in Mumbai, even death does not wait for anyone. My neighbour was sick for a few days, people came to visit him and everytime i took the lift and reached my floor i could see a crowd infront of his home cause for some reason humans have this feeling that visiting someone during the last moments of their lives when they probably will have no memory left or when their memory is going to last a day or so is the most important time to visit them. The crowd, the cries, the awkward delivery guy’s faces every time he had to come to our floor, all were new and absurd, and everything in between.

It caught me thinking about the few interactions I have had with my neighbor, every morning whenever I clicked on my lift to go to the office, if he was around, he would ask me “ barabar na time”,”mujhe maalum hai “, “ late nahi hua na”, “ always making sure that I wasn’t running late, and the conversations we had never went beyond these three words. Maybe when we crossed eyes, he would smile at me, but all the talking we did was when I was about to go to the office. If he were around, he would just ask me his simple questions??“ barabar na time”,”mujhe maalum hai “, “late nahi hua hai “.

After he passed away i did see the procession go away. It was simple: a van came, took him, and went away, and that’s it, no more conversations and no more sign of his existence, maybe his family will remember him daily initially and then maybe once in a while, but that’s not the topic for the day.

A few days after the event of his death, I took the lift to go to the office, my usual time, and then one of his family members joined me in the lift she asked me, “Going to the office?” I nodded yes, and then out of nowhere she went on to ask “ barabar na time”“ late nahi hua hai”.I was surprised, and all I could think was how we humans are so much where we are from, whether

We agree or not.

She would never know that certain parts of her are exactly like her dad /uncle, and would go on to live thinking how unique a human she is. She definitely is for sure, but certain parts are just a reflection of her own loved ones.

Later, I told this whole story to my best friend, and she was struck by a sudden surprise, and I hope the readers, if any, feel the same too.

Love
Aishu (Written completely by me, no GPT)

Subscribe now