TOXIC
The word ‘toxic’ has become a slur to use to attack, rather than a tool to reflect on what one needs.
Navigating complex emotions of jealousy, ambition, insecurity, joy, fear, peace, anger, happiness, betrayal, contentment, disappointment, love.
The word ‘toxic’ has become a slur to use to attack, rather than a tool to reflect on what one needs.
I wrote this post at the start of this year, having hit 40 and mistaking midlife crisis for twenty twenty vision. What a year 2020 turned out to be.
In how many ways shall I experience grief? I watched THAPPAD and thought about all the people who have hit me. In plural
Inside my pockets, I keep pieces of courage, to reach for when I need them. See, life has become an unpredictable horizon strewn with landmines called memories. An accidental sighting and unfortunate coincidences. We’re so connected, we’re entrenched seamless and a chance encounter, becomes an obituary. Memory, that unreliable narrator…
The first time you watch someone die is a surprise because wasn’t death supposed to be silent?
I make the decision to let go of the validation & security they offer while I’m on this quest to discover who I am.
I’ve been in situations before where I’ve felt like there is no way forward. Like being in prison. This is a good thing.
A wave of anti-CAA protests swept across the country. Terror gripped the country and still the political rhetoric continued. We have forgotten trust.
I lost all my Instagram Drafts, at least 15 Drafts in stages of completion. Gone in one shot.
The idea of boundaries gained a lot of favour in the last decade. For a generation ravaged by economic meltdowns and the cultural volatility caused by connectivity, it seemed important to move to some kind of structural safety. We were (and still are) otherwise living in schedules with no day,…