I’ve had a sister all my life. One house, two girls, three hundred silent wars over borrowed clothes and emotional space. We fought over the front seat, lipstick shades, the right to grieve differently. But we also fought for each other—quietly, clumsily. I knew she’d burn the world if anyone hurt me, but she’d still take the bigger slice of cake when no one was watching. That’s the kind of love I grew up with. Familiar, flawed, loyal. So it threw me when adulthood demanded a different kind of sisterhood. One not built into the family tree, …
The Cost of Becoming Someone You Never Meant to Be
You can spend years constructing a life that looks solid from the outside and hollow on the inside. It’s not always built on ambition. Sometimes, it’s built on accident—on a series of small compromises, polite nods, and the quiet panic of not wanting to disappoint anyone. The world praises effort. It rarely pauses to ask if that effort is directed toward something you actually want. So you say yes, again and again. You become reliable. Generous. Thoughtful. You start carrying other people’s expectations like a second skin, mistaking …
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We’re Not Juggling—We’re Building a Damn Circus
People love saying women are great at multitasking. As if we’re circus performers keeping a dozen balls in the air while smiling for applause. But I don’t think that’s what we’re doing. We’re not just juggling. We’re strategizing with a toddler on one hip. We’re giving feedback while remembering the milk is about to expire. We’re managing egos in boardrooms and bedtime stories at home. We’re leading—with empathy, without apology. And doing it all while resisting the pressure to smile too much or too little. We don’t juggle. We build …
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The Sacred Terror of Saying Yes
There’s a particular kind of fear that arrives just before something important. Not the fear of crossing a busy road or checking your blood test results. This one has more gravity. It usually shows up when you’re standing at the edge of something new—arms crossed, breath held, already rehearsing how you’ll explain your failure if things go sideways. I used to think the brave were the ones who didn’t feel this fear. I know better now. The brave are simply the ones who keep showing up with it. I’ve said yes to a lot of things that scared …
The Stories That Cost Me Something Are The Ones I Can’t Abandon
There was a winter morning in Uttarakhand when my fingers wouldn’t stop trembling. I hadn’t eaten. My face was windburnt. The room I was in smelled like wet wool and eucalyptus balm. But I had to write. Not because it was a good idea. Not because anyone was waiting.Because if I didn’t, the story inside me was going to rot. It wasn’t a “content plan.” It wasn’t strategic. It didn’t start with a hook and end with a takeaway. It was a raw, blood-tinged truth that had been pulsing behind my ribs for days. I remember staring at the screen …
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When the World Wasn’t Looking, We Grew Apart Anyway
Anika hadn’t spoken to Isha in seven months. Not for lack of trying. Just not enough trying. It started slow. Rescheduled calls. The “let’s definitely catch up soon” messages that came with heart emojis and no actual dates. The growing silence between texts. Then, one day, they just… stopped happening. It wasn’t a fight. Which almost would have been easier. It was distance disguised as busy. They had been close once. Not the kind of close you post about. Not the curated selfies and brunch recaps. But the other kind—the real kind. The …
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