I stopped and leaned against the wall. My breathes were quick. I heard footsteps and I knew I had to run. I didn’t have the energy, but I didn’t have a choice either. Run or die.

After what seemed like hours, but could have been mere minutes, I came across three doors. All painted red. No, the red was not just a mere paint red. The doors were covered in blood. Hundreds must have bled to cover these doors in red. All the doors looked daunting, but I had to pick one. Pick or die.

I heard those footsteps again. I panicked. My whole life depended on this choice, yet I could not even spare a minute to think. I ran towards the second door and grasped the knob. I was terrified. I knew I had no option but to turn the knob. Open or die.

The door shut behind me. Everything went dark. My feet moved on whilst my brain tried to grasp what was happening. I had been running from those footsteps. I knew the danger. Now, the fear had amplified. I didn’t even know what to be afraid of…

I finally saw a tiny glimpse of light and I ran towards it. I had to get home. The light was my only hope. As I grew closer, I realized it was not an escape. It was not a gateway. It was another room. The room was bare except for a pure white stand. And on it stood a huge bowl filled a shimmering blue liquid. I stepped closer to the bowl and the walls began to shake. The walls were closing on me. I was trapped. When the walls finally stopped moving, I saw the scribings on the wall facing me – “Look into the bowl and see what you fear most”. Look or die.

Facing your fears. Your true fears. We all hide behind a mask to protect ourselves from the harsh realities. But if I wanted to go home, I knew I had to face my fears. I had to look and accept what I feared most. Taking a huge breathe I peered inside the bowl. I let out a cry. Cry of pain and agony. No! It could not be it! How was I to live with that realization? The ground below me gave out. And I fell.


My eyes flew open. I was drenched in sweat and my heartbeats had gone haywire. But I remembered the nightmare. I could remember what I had seen in the bowl. Even the nightmare had ended, it had left me with an agonizing  truth. The fear  in the nightmare was very real reality. The nightmare had not ended. It had just begun…



As years go by, style also keeps changing. What was stylish 1 year ago, would be considered a major faux-pas on here. Obviously, I am not qualified at all to judge style. Neither am I experimental with my looks. Well, I did cut my long(ish) hair pretty short. That has been the bravest moment of my life to date.

However, there are certain trends that I think are absolutely ridiculous and not stylish at all. Saggy pants. Why. Why. Why. They look awful and so unattractive. Also, how do those pants not fall off? How do they hold them up like that? Mysteries.

Then there are those pants with knee cutouts. I don’t even know if they have some special name, and I could not even be bothered to find out. I remember watching a Youtuber who was wearing it and being so put off by it. Next thing you know, everyone is wearing them. Did people suddenly develop some knee fetish? Is that why I am single? I am not showing enough knee?

Aside from these two things, as long as you’re confident in your look, you’re going to look hella stylish, no matter what.

Ghosts of the Past

I live in a city that is very hot. However, I went to a school that seemed to be oblivious of this fact. It was exceptionally horrible for the female students. I don’t think there was/is one female student there who would have one positive thing to say about our horrid uniform. To think, I spent 6 years in it.

But even with the terrible uniform, life was good back then. Obviously, we didn’t see it at that time. When people would tell us that we had it easy, we didn’t believe them. And now when we tell the high-schoolers that, they don’t believe us. It’s a vicious cycle.

Then you go to university and it’s a whirlwind of an experience. New city, new people, new life. So much potential. But there is also a ton of schoolwork and loneliness. You miss your family. You miss coming home to someone. So you start thinking about when it would be over. And it does get over. And you are thrown into this ‘adult life’ and you wish you could go back to those days.

I think once something becomes part of your past, you only remember the good. You forget the negatives attached to it. The same thing happens when you go through a breakup. You remember the late night conversations, the hand holding, the feeling of love. You forget the fights, the tears, the frustration.

Also, when you are in a relationship, you will have moments where you will think about what it was like being single. The freedom, the fun in doing the chasing and being chased. If you’re happy in your relationship, those moments will pass. Fleeting thought. However, if those thoughts remain, time to be evaluating your happiness in that relationship.

But that happens with anything of the past. Once my hometown became part of my past, I only remembered the beaches, the relaxed life, the sense of belonging. Now that I am back here, I am reminded why I wanted to leave in the first place. Living here also means dealing with an overbearingly traditional community, the slow-paced life.

I think as long as we continue living, we will always remember aspects of our past fondly. Perhaps, life is tough, and remembering the good of the past will bring a temporary smile onto our faces. And that is okay. However, it is also important to not get caught up in these moments. When you start remembering your ex, and all the happy memories, remind yourself of all the shit they put you through. When you start missing your hometown, go spend a few days there, you will get the satisfaction of being there, but you will also remember why you left in the first place, and you’ll soon be making arrangements to leave. If you’re happy, you will not want to go back to your past. If you’re unhappy, maybe it’s time to be making a new future.


Fatherly Friend

I think the most interesting aspect of humans is their relationships. Each one is so unique, bizarre, and special. You can never duplicate a relationship. While you can find similarities, you will also find a few differences. No copy and paste feature in relationships.

One of the most interesting relationships I have is with my male best friend. He is a dad. And no, he doesn’t have a child. At least not that I know of. He just tends to be very dad like around me. Don’t dress this way. Don’t get a navel piercing. This guy isn’t good for you. Spend your money wisely.

In the age where youth are fully immersed in the world of Internet, he decides to cut the internet connection at his home. It’s a waste of time, he says. What’s the point of living, if you are not going to waste a few hours every day on the best man-made creation yet- The Internet.

Also, he is super smart. Reads a lot. His smartness is both alluring and annoying. I think he would be the male version of Hermione Granger. Yeah, that comparison makes sense. His smartness has been very useful for me. He has helped me with my university work. A lot. He never understood my habit of procrastinating (always a difficult word for me to spell) until it is 5 hours to deadline. But that’s how almost all university students operate. Not him.

Maybe, one day I will be able to convince him to write a personal (ish) post, so we can see the world from his eyes. Could be interesting…

What’s in your closet? Relationships!

When you come from a small city and a conservative community, you develop this ability to live a dual life. There are a lot of aspects of you that you have to keep a secret. One of them is your relationships. Gotta keep those private!

This is a recent conversation I had regarding some woman.

Me: Is she married? Engaged?

(I know. I know. I am nosy)

Friend: Nope. From what I know.

Friend: Think she has spoilt her name and stuff.

Me: Really. Why?

Friend: Just boyfriends.

Yes. You run the risk of ruining your reputation because of your dating history. This is so baffling. You meet someone. You feel a connection. You date them to explore more of it. It doesn’t work out. You break up. You get over that person. And the cycle repeats until you find someone worthy of breaking this cycle. Why is this considered bad?

So what happens? We all hide our relationships. Not because we are private people. Nah, because we fear what people will think of us. You start strategizing. What would be the best place to meet so as to avoid being seen? What lies do you tell your family?  Honestly, these skills are going to come in very handy when we have to get away with murder.