You’ll find that throughout this blog there’s no real center or theme or anything, and it’s just mainly a bunch of words that don’t really signify anything. Honestly, that’s all it is. That’s all anything is.

A film reel has 32 pictures. You’re allowed to capture 32 special moments. How do you choose? 

My analogue camera, and one and a half years in 7 pictures.

I miss having a good analogue camera. I miss taking pictures that mean something to me.

I miss a lot of stuff.

Analogue cameras are beautiful because you don’t get to see what you’ve taken. There’s a moment of swift exhilaration when your pictures are laid out in front of you, and you get to see just how horrible a photographer you really are. But it’s analogue, and what you feel is beautiful anyway.

Battle Scars

Everything she ever wanted or dreamed of was planned out through a careful battle inside her head. There was no space for anything impulsive. Impulse wasn’t mapped.

Her dreams were achievable (sometimes the voice in her head would tell her that these are not dreams) her expectations were derived,after years of observation and experimentation. There’s no point in expecting what does not happen.

She was always according to plan, and so she was happy.

Your inadequacies are a figment of yours or someone else’s imagination. Imagine nice things. It’ll solve all your problems.

I wish I had a typewriter!
Shiny typewriter


I seem to be stripped of the walls around me. Safety no longer exists. Public transport has become a little too public. I feel like I should hire people to protect me, but that wouldn’t be safe either. I find myself running to the safety at my house. My own curfew now is 6 (when at one point I used to believe that even at 12, my city is safe). 

I’m afraid that one gang rape empowers more gang rapes. I’m afraid that everyone who I don’t know could sexually harass me. I’m afraid that a stare will not be just a stare. I’m afraid that I’ll be touched. I’m afraid for every woman’s life.

I could be wearing a 100 layers of clothes, but I haven’t felt  more naked in my life.

Life #1

Everything was still. Leaves stopped breathing. Animals moved away. The wind changed direction. The sun, in its glory, stopped moving so that a passer by wouldn’t know if it was setting or rising. The orange of the sun shone from behind the white clouds onto the perfectly still water. The trees guarded the water from any disturbances and the skies stood guardian over the world, like a king.

The beaut was unbearable. Nothing could disturb the celestial feeling that came with this undisturbed serenity. The forests stood tall, with their green smiles, The rocks stay still looking out at the picturesque outdoors, in awe at the magnificence that they were a part of. 

And in this stillness, beauty, quiet, and absolute harmony, there came a little drop. One drop from the leaves of heaven, that coloured the beauty. While it spread, nothing sucked it out. Instead, it creeped into all that was pure, making it impure. All that was beautiful, now stained by a little drop.