I love university, and it's also slowly breaking me. Both are true at the same time, and somehow that's the most university thing of all.
It starts with waking up early. The alarm rings, and I'm already tired before my feet touch the floor. I drag myself out of bed, not because I'm motivated, but because attendance is watching. Every lecture is a tiny negotiation: Do I need this percentage? Can I afford to skip? Should I just show up and be physically present while my mind is somewhere far away? So I go, sit in the third row, and nod like someone who slept eight hours.
Then comes the part nobody warns you about: everything arrives at once. Internal assignments, presentations, readings, all stacking up like they've coordinated a surprise attack. One deadline hasn't even finished breathing b…
Amma's old pressure cooker stopped working Today. I had completed about its whistle for years, especially when I was trying to study. But when she packet it away, the kitchen felt strangely quiet. I remembered waking up to that sound before school 🏫, complaining about breakfast 🥞 while she rushed between the stove and my uniform. I offered to buy her a new cooker, and she laughed at how sentimental I had become. Still, I caught myself listening for the familiar whistle tonight. It is strange how the things we find irritating can become the sounds we miss most.
I bought biscuits for the security guard downstairs today because he had been so through the rain. I expected a quick thank you, but he told me he had spent the afternoon helping stranded delivery workers find shelter. He spoke about it casually, as though it were nothing. I felt slightly ashamed of how proud I had been offered my own tiny gesture. We chatted for a few minutes before I went upstairs, Later , I felt some extra change in my pocket for tomorrow. I couldn't solve anyone's problems, butvi could make someone 's long shift a little less difficult.
I corrected Priya during a meeting today with the confidence of someone who had personally invented the subject. Five minutes later, we discovered I was completely wrong. I wanted the floor to swallow me. Priya simply smiled and said , "Happens to everyone," before helping me fix the report. I apologised after the meeting, expecting her to tease me, but she barely seemed bothered. Somehow that made me feel worse and better at the same time. I had spent years believing that being respected meant never appearing foolish. Today, I discovered that the only person demanding perfection from me was myself.
I finally messaged my old English teacher today. I had wanted to thank her for encouraging me to speak to class, but the message had satbin my drafts for months because everything. I wrote sounded awkward. I eventually sent three simple sentences. She replied that she remembered my first presentation and how nervous I had been. Then she said she was proud of me. I started at the message longer than I expected. I had assumed teachers forgot students as soon as they left school 🏫. Apparently, I had underestimated how much an ordinary encouragement can matter to someone who gives it.
I borrowed Meena's sweater during the freezing office air - conditioning today and found an old cinema 📽️ ticket 🎫 to its pocket. When I showed her, she remembered the terrible film we had watched together months ago. We spent the afternoon arguing about the ending and laughing at how confidently we had predicted the plot. I had forgotten that we barely knew each other when we went. Now, she is the person I message whenever something ridiculous happens. I returned the sweater before leaving, but kept thinking 🤔 about that ticket. It's funny 🤣 how ordinary objects sometimes hold the beginning of relationships we never expected to matter.
Have you ever heard gods voice?
I used to say never
I used to hope
I used to pray begging to hear him speak
But i always got nothing
Then last night I heard him
Soft and quiet
Yet loud and strong
It was something I never thought I would get to hear
The best part was
I was in tears
Praying in complete silence
I have never truly done that before
And while I was praying in tears
Begging him to help and guide me
I heard him
It was not my voice
Not a thought
It was him
Saying im right here
Saying I've got you
And I cried harder
Warmth filled the room
Joy and peace filled my entire body and mind
I just kept crying unable to process anything
All I could keep saying was thank you to him
It was a blessing
And I want everyone to know that you should not give up!
Its true what they say
That he move…
Nothing extraordinary happened today. I woke up late, completed my work, bought vegetables and argued with my brother about what to watch. In the evening, we cooked together and accidentally added too much chilli in the curry. We spend dinner drinking water and blaming each other.
Later I sat by the window listening to the neighborhood settle for the night. For months, I had been waiting for something significant to happend before allowing myself to feel happy. A promotion or a breakthrough or a perfect day. Tonight, I had none of these and yet I felt content. Perhaps and ordinary life isn't an unfinished life.
How did your day go?
Somedays I wonder where all my time goes. I wake up with a list of things to do and somehow by the time I go to bed, healf of them are still waiting for Tommorow.
Today was not different. My alarm rang at 7 AM. I turned it off and checked my phone and replied to absolutely nothing. I was still lying at my bed Wondering if I should really get up instead of just chilling in my bed.
Breakfast was reminded by usual reminders. Dint forget this and don't forget that. Have you done what you were supposed to do yesterday? I answered it with usual "I'll do it" while mentally addung those tasks to an already over crowded list.
I sat down to work and opened my laptop, stared at the screen. There were things I wanted to accomplish, the plans I was excited about and deadline that were getting unc…
My exam results came out today, and they were nowhere near what I had hoped. I spent the afternoon preparing excuses for my parents. When I finally told Amma. She asked whether I had eaten lunch. I started at her, confused. She repeated the question, then brought me a plate of curd rice. She didn't pretend my marks were wounderful or tell me not to worry. She simply sat beside me while I ate. I felt my shoulders relax for the first time all day. I had expected love to arrive as reassurance. Instead, it arrived as lunch, and somehow that was enough.
Our neighbour left a bag of mangoes at the door 🚪 this evening 🌆. Amma had been busy taking. Appa to the hospital for a checkup, and more of us had time to cook properly. The neighbour didn't ask questions or make a fuss. She simply said the mangoes were from her brother's farm and hurried home. Later, Amma cut one into places, and we are together in the kitchen. The fruit 🍓 was slightly sour, but nobody complained. I felt grateful for the kind of help that doesn't demand explanations. Sometimes, people make difficult days bearable simply by noticing them.
Appa called while I was finishing an assignment I nearly ignored it because he usually tells me the same stories about work and the neighbours. Tonight, I answered anyway . He spent ten minutes explaining how the local Shop had increased its prices and how someone had parked badly outside our house 🏠. I barely contributed to the conversation, but he seemed happy to have someone listening. After we hung up. I sad staring at my phone. I had been treating his calls as interruptions, forgetting that one day I might wish I could hear those ordinary complaints again. Tomorrow, I'll call him first
While cleaning my cupboard. I found an old pencil ✏️ covered in teeth marks. I remembered biting it during mathematics exams my friend Divya whispered answers she wasn't entirely sure about.vqw haven't spoken properly in years. I searched for her number and found our last conversation buried beneath hundreds of messages. For several minutes, I hesitated,worried that contacting her would be awkward. Finally, I sent a photograph of the pencil 📝. She replied almost immediately with a laughing voice note.vi spent the evening 🌆 smiling 😁😊 at my phone 📱. Perhaps some friendships don't disappear, they simply wait for someone to remember where they ⬅️ them.
I found my school 🏫 diary beneath a stack of old textbooks today.Half the pages contained dramatic complaints about homework, friendship problems, and teachers who supposedly hated me i laughed at the seriousness with which I had described a missing geometry box. Then I found an entry about sitting alone during lunch because my best friend had changed sections. The humour disappeared.I remembered how enormous that loneliness had felt. I wanted to tell that younger version of myself that things would become easier, but I couldn't. I could only close the diary gently, grateful that the girl who wrote it had kept going.
My childhood friend Arun visited today after nearly four years. We stood awkwardly at the doorway exchanging updates about jobs and family before running out of things to say. Then he mentioned the time we accidentally broke out neighbour's flowerpot and blamed a stray cat. We laughed until my mother came out to ask what was wrong . Suddenly, the years between us felt smaller. He has changed and so have I , hut some jokes apparently survive anything. After he felt, I felt both happy and sad. I had missed him without fully admitting it and one afternoon had reminded me why
An oldcsong started playing in the supermarket today, and I stopped pushing my trolley. It was the song my school 🏫 friends used to sing loudly on the bus 🚌, usually off key 🗝️ and always at the wrong moments. I could almost hear our conductor telling us to sit down while we laughed harder. I smiled at the shelves feeling ridiculous.Thenbi remembered that I hadn't spoken to mostvof those friends in years. We had promised to stay together forever, as children often do.bi finished shopping 🛍️, but the song followed me home.bi wonder whether they ever hear it and remember us too.
I found an old family photograph I had always hated because my haircut looked terrible and I was wearing an embarrassing dress. Today I noticed my grandmother laughing in the background, hervhead thrown back and her eyes nearly closed. She died two years ago. I sat on the floor holding the photograph, wishing I had paid less attention to my own appearance that day. I couldn't remember what we had been laughing about, which somehow hurt more. I put the photograph on my desk instead of returning it to the cupboard. I want to remember the people in my pictures, not just how we looked.
I visited my old primary school today to collect a certificate. The playground looked ridiculously small.bi remembered running across it with my frieds, convinced that the far wall was miles away. Now, I could cross the entire space in less than a minute. I laughed at myself, then felt unexpectedly melancholy. The swings were newer, the paint had changed, andvyounger children were shouting where we once played. Life had continued without asking whether we were ready to leave. I stood by the gate for a moment before leaving. I suppose growing up means accepting that places can remain while your place in them changes.
I tried making my grandmother's favourite dish today using the recipe she had written in an old notebook 📓. It said things like "add a little more" and "cook until it smells right," I failed spectacularly. The curry was too salty, and the kitchen looked like a disaster. I called her, and she laughed before explaining the steps again.vi realised she had never measured anything because she had learned by watching someone else. We spend twenty minutes talking about cooking, family, and people I barely remembered . I wrote everything down this time. Some memories deserve to become recipes before the people who carry them are gone
I met an old school friend at a wedding today. I barely remembered the details of our friendship, but she reminded me of the time I shared my lunch with her when she had forgotten hers. Apparently, she had been too embarrassed to ask anyone else, I was surprised because I remembered that day as completely ordinary. We laughed, exchanged numbers, and promised to meet again. On the way home, I kept thinking about how differently two people can remember the same moment. What I considered insignificant had stayed with her for years. Perhaps we leave traces of kindness without ever knowing where they settle.
I have always been fascinated by people who are confidently wrong. Not slightly mistaken, not confused about a particular detail, but completely and spectacularly wrong whilebehaving as though they have personally written the textbook on the subject.You know the type. You could be having a perfectly normal conversation about something, and suddenly someone will make a statement so inaccurate that you briefly question your own education.The funniest part is that correcting them rarelyhelps. In fact, it often makes things worse. They don’t reconsider their statement or look for evidence. Instead, they become more confident. Suddenly, you are not having a conversation anymore. You are attending an unsolicited lecture.I once witnessed someone confidently explain a geographical fact that was so…
I visited my old school 🏫 today and found my favourite classroom occupied by younger students. Their bags were scattered across the benches, and someone had drawn a terrible cartoon on the board 🛹. I stood at the doorway remembering the years I had spent worrying about exams, friendships, and what everyone thought of me. I wanted to tell those children that mostvof their current worries would eventually become stories. Then I realised I couldn't promise that everything would be easy. I could only hope they would be kinder to themselves than I had been . I left quietly feeling proud of the person who had finally walked out.
I called Kavya after another argument with my family, expecting her to explain what I should have done differently. Instead, she arrived with chips and sat beside me while I repeated the entire story twice. She didn't interrupt or tell me to be positive. Eventually, I ran out of things to say. We watched a silly film and ate the chips without discussing my problems again. I felt strangely relieved. I had been so busy looking for answers that I forgot how exhausting it was to defend my feelings. Sometimes, I don't need someone to solve my life. I need someone who let's me out it down for a while.
I arrived late for lunch today and found every table occupied except one chair beside Meera. She moved her bag without being asked and continued telling me about her morning 🌄. It was such an ordinary gesture that I almost overlooked it
Lately, I have been feeling like an extra person in every group, always waiting to see whether someone wants me around. Meera didn't make a big deal of including me. She simply made space. We spent lunch discussing a terrible television 📺 series, and I laughed more than I had in days. Perhaps belonging doesn't always announce itself. Sometimes it looks like an empty chair someone kept for you.
I made a mistake in the project report today, and it nearly delayed the team's Before I could explain what happened. Karthik admitted that he had misunderstood part of the introductions too. He didn't pretend I was blameless,but he refused to let everyone place the entire burden on me.vAfter the meeting, I thanked him.bHevtold me not to make a habit of it.Which made us both laugh. I felt relieved, butvalso determined to be more careful. His kindness hadn't removed my responsibility. It had simply made it easier to face it without feeling like the worst person in the room.
Nobody tells you how exhaustjng adulthood can be. As children, we imagine growing up means having freedom and earning our own money and buying whatever we want and staying up late and making our won decisions. It sounds so wonderful until you actually get there.
Suddenly, everything has a price. Even the smallest things require calculation. You don't just buy something because you like it. You check your bank balance and think about upcoming expenses and something puts it back on the shelf. You start understanding why your parents spend so much time discussing electricity bills, groceries and savings.
The strangest oadr is how quickly life becomes a never ending list of responsibility. There are deadlines to meet and messages to reply to,bills to pay, appointments to remeber, and peopl…
I hadn't spoken to Arunvfor three days after our argument. Bothvof us werevtoo stubborn to apologise, so we continued sharing memes in the group chat while pretending nothing was wrong. The evening 🌆, he appeared outside my office holding two cups of ☕. "I was being an idiot," he said, looking at the pavement. I laughed because I had prepared an entire speech 💬 about his behaviour. We drankbourvtea and discussed something completely unrelated. The argument wasn't magically erased, butvthe heaviness between us disappeared. I realised that some relationships are worth saving not because we never hurt each other, but because we are willing to return and repair what we break.
Who would have thought reading just the tiniest bit of the bible would make my mind go nuts.
God was speaking to me in romans 1. I never made it to romans 2. Just reading the small bit made my thoughts explode. I took lots of notes and wrote down my thoughts. I feel like romans is an amazing book of the bible for those who believe and even for those who dont. It gives you an amazing glimpse into how god works and how much he loves us!
I added the video I mad3 which is a more concise version of my spilled thoughts and Bible study notes! God is so good and I love how he gives me the opportunity to spread his amazing word.
My colleague returned my report today covered in handwritten corrections. My first reaction was embarrassment. I had spent hours on it and through I had done a good job. Then I noticed that she had explained every change carefully instead of simply marking my mistakes. She even added a note saying the overall idea was strong. I thanked her, although I felt uncomfortable admitting how much I needed the help. Later, I used her suggestions and produced a much better version. I realised that being corrected doesn't necessarily mean being judged. Sometimes someone takes the trouble because they believe your work is worth improving.
My day began with the alarm ringing for the third time. I had already negotiated with myself twice about getting out of bed and apparently I have lost both the arguments. I finally got up and checked my phone, scrolled through a few notification ms and some how spend fifteen minutes doing nothing.
Breajfast was the usual rush. I ate while thinking about that things I hadn't finished the previous day. There was the message I needed to reply to, some work waiting for me and a small task that I have been postponingbfir almost a week. Funny how the smallest responsibility become the easiest to avoid.
By afternoon, I had already convince myself that I deserved break. I opened Instagram for five minutes and emerged forty minutes later knowing far too much about stranger's holiday and somebod…
