The Existential Crisis

An existential crisis is a moment at which an individual questions if their life has meaning, purpose, or value.[1]

I thought I had crossed the point where I can have a quarter life crisis. But evidently, it can happen anytime and honestly for loooooong duration’s!

Not that you want to renounce the worldly pleasures; But you just want to pack a bag and go somewhere nobody knows you. Well that technically becomes renouncing stuff, but I don’t want to give up my camera and my phone. Actually I would gladly give up my phone. But then again I won’t be able to Instagram so I think the phone needs to go with me. So the camera and the phone and the Instagram updates stay.

The point is, at times, you actually feel that everything that you’ve been doing till now is pretty much useless, and you can just stop doing it and leave everything and nothing would really change. Like the world just goes on without anyone noticing. And it’s kinda gradual you know…like it just happens when you don’t notice it. And then all of a sudden it’s the only thing around you, within you and about you.

You try to do everything that you can to get rid of it and get over it, but it just keeps engulfing you. And after a point you just accept it. You stop fighting it and just let it be a part of you.

So you try and explain it to other people how you feel and nobody gets it, so you open your laptop and start looking for places where you can can run away but realize that the summer holidays are on go every place would be crowded except maybe the Thar Desert. So here I’m sitting trying to figure out if I’l be able to bear that level of heat when I’m already half dead because of the heath in Delhi.

Inshallah I’l be able to find that one place where I can run away.


Back To Blogging

When I started this blog, my sole motive was to get my frustration out. Despite being an extrovert I have trouble expressing my feelings. So I used to keep storing everything inside my mind and explode on anyone who tried to pry too deep.

Writing what I felt made me feel a little more calm and I actually started enjoying the stories that I weaved around what I saw around me.

But lately I faced the biggest writers block that could possibly exist in this world. I just couldn’t get myself to write anything. I had numerous stories to tell but something stopped me from getting it down on paper.

My moods have been erratic lately and I’ve had so much to say but I just can’t bring it out. I try really hard but I go blank every time I sit down to write something.

But today I decided to get my mind to stop making excuses and get back to my dear old blog.

So here’s to many more stories and rants. May god give you all the strength to be able to read it all without killing me.


Of All That Was And Will Be

It keeps getting worse every year. The cold feet, the shivering hands, the numbness in my feet, the claustrophobic feeling of everything closing in of you, and the insane stress of trying to be normal.

For most people their birthday is the happiest day of the year. Then there are some like me who dread the very arrival of that one particular day.

I belong to the minority group in this world who freaks out around her birthday. I can’t pin point why but I believe somewhere around my 13th birthday I started getting this strange feeling. I just didn’t want to talk to anybody or celebrate anything. Cakes became the bane of my existence and presents till date are like a social norm. If somebody gifts me something I feel like I have to return that favor by gifting them something equally good. And for someone like me who also hates shopping (Yes, I know I’m weird), it’s like a curse. So that also gets me in the minority

Don’t get me wrong. I love birthdays in general. If it’s my friend’s birthday, I would do anything and everything in my power to make it the happiest day of their life. In fact at times I’m more excited than them! It’s just that my own birthday gives me the feeling of being trapped in a ventilator shaft.

Every year I try to keep myself calm and every year I fail miserably.

I’m hoping this year would be different.

Happy Birthday to me!


*Deep Breathing*

A Hijra in the family : Coming out as genderqueer to parents.

One of the strongest and most powerful post I’v ever read. It takes courage to accept who you are. And something more than courage to let go of everything you believe for the sake of your family and loved ones. And somehow, I can feel the pain of the writer because I understand how our society works. My country still needs to go a long way before it can accept the fact that rather than the family honor, it’s your child’s happiness that should be your first priority.


I was just another boy wanting to be a girl. Now, I’ll be just another boy. I have not complained, nor do I complain now. I only tell a tale, for that’s all I’ve got. A tale, some could relate to.

This is for everyone who sees the queer movement as a superficial rich kid’s tantrum. I hail from a deeply religious middle class family with strong roots in a place known for its gender based crimes.

One of these days if I stopped existing the world wouldn’t know but I don’t want to be just another lgbt person. I don’t want to be just another statistic, just another note. I want to see the light, I want to be able to  hope but I don’t know where to look for hope, where to find it.

There was someone who told me, that maybe I should get my career sorted…

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