30 days of the Quarantine

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I have been in a writing slump. There are a lot of things I want to talk about but somehow when I sit down to write my mind is completely blank. This along with the fact that we are in a pandemic and I have a lot of time, I have decided to do another 30-day writing challenge. I am hoping this would help me get back into the rhythm and get the creativity flowing.

So here is this year's 30-day writing challenge. Starting today I am going to put up a post every day for the next thirty days. Here is the challenge. 



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All time highs

General people appreciation post

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 I cannot get to sleep, so I decided to sit in the balcony. And it is frikking cold, and there is music playing in my room, well where is there isn't. I have recently been feeling a lot of appreciation for the people in my life and wanted to pen it down.  Two days ago I got my much awaited first-ever promotion. I was alone at home when I got the call. I was beyond elated. I called all my friends and family to share the good news and then sat in front of my laptop. Then I decided to call up a friend who didn't respond to my somewhat cryptic message "call aa gaya". I call her and give her the news and the first words out of her mouth were "saman uthao apna aur aa jao" which translates to pick up your things and come over ASAP. And that is all we want in life, someone to say that to us. I love this woman very very much.  Umm secondly, I don't know if this happens with everyone or just me, but in the last couple of years, I have gotten really close to my cou...
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Sometimes, Stop and look around

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We get lost in the tailings of daily life. The laundry that is becoming a mountain, the fridge that needs restocking, and the Roomba that needs to be cleaned. And on top of all of this, there is Mark Zuckerberg trying his fucking best to make you addicted to a social media platform that is known to induce anxiety, fear, and loneliness in people. So we don’t have time. Or so we think. I think sometimes we need to take a giant, deep breath and just look around. Look at where you are. Look at what you have achieved. Appreciate it. Appreciate it not because, oh look, other people don’t even have this, but because, hey, look at you. You got here. You dreamed of being here. You worked to get here. And you did. Take a beat and enjoy it. Somewhere between the laundry and the traffic, we have genuinely forgotten how to enjoy the things we once desperately wanted. For instance, I have been working at Accenture Strategy for about 4–5 months now. I had been applying here for almost three years and...
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The Room of Forgotten Things

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Last week, I had a really lovely dream and woke up nostalgic and happy, with almost a smile. Context: I took a week-long break from work, so my mind was quite at ease and not worrying about meetings and deliverables.  Alright, so coming back to my dream. I am in my college room (the one I lived in during my 3rd year). I was maybe visiting campus or coming back after a break, but that wasn't very clear to me. Alright, so I am in my room, and it is very cluttered and full of things such as books, photographs, clothes, guitars, harmoniums, pens, notebooks with a clothing line going right through the middle of the room, and whatnot.  As I took a closer look at the things in the room and checked the cupboard, it started returning to me. These are things that I have lost or forgotten about, all sitting in that room for me to discover and explore. There is a pile of books, and atop is a Manchester United book that I had gifted my husband last year on his birthday while we were in Goa...
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Where are the "Friends" now?

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It's been 11 years since Monica and Chandler moved out of the apartment. That was one big moment for the group, after which they all really did grow up. Their lives went into six different directions, but they still try to keep in touch. The keeping in touch does not go very well with their busy lives. But they try to meet at least once a month at the coffee house, and swap stories like old times. This has now become a tradition. Also they always always go to Monica's place for thanksgiving where she cooks them a delicious meal and the kids run around and have fun! Monica and Chandler moved to the suburbs with the twins, who are now 11 years old. Monica is not only a chef at one of the best restaurants in NY but has published two cookbooks as well. Chandler who started on a new career path is now booming in that field, He is working at a great advertising firm, but he prefers to work from home (at least half the time) and stay with the kids. They have a perfect littl...
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Think Non-Fiction is Boring? Think Again.

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You think non-fiction books are dry?  You think there’s no story, no suspense?  Just a bunch of facts or perspectives with nothing to keep you hooked?  Then you are very wrong, my friend! Non-fiction books can be incredibly addictive. Once you step out of the fictional world and into the reality of non-fiction, you’ll see the scales tip. Every decision carries weight. Every move has to be calculated, because unlike in fiction, when someone messes up in real life, the consequences are real. Watching people factor in risks, make tricky, bold, or even borderline insane decisions will leave you anxious for them. It doesn’t matter that it happened years ago—you’re right there with them in that moment of panic and uncertainty. Non-fiction also teaches you empathy in a way fiction can’t always achieve. You live through the triumphs and failures of real people, understanding the weight of their choices, the courage in their risks, and the humanity in their flaws. You begin to se...
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The Authority Problem

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What a wonderful world it would be if we could send every man who refuses to acknowledge the existence of an alternate opinion or way of doing things to a rehabilitation centre. I am certain we have all had our fair share of experiences with such men. More so as women, because somehow, when we present an opposing view with confidence, there is wonder in their eyes.  It is the expression a child has when taken to Disneyland for the first time; utter disbelief, minus the excitement. Their minds, rusted shut by decades of unquestioned authority, struggle to process the audacity of a woman not only having an opinion, but having the nerve to say it out loud. Appalling. Off with her head.  But of course, this remains nothing more than a fleeting thought in their minds. In reality, they either ignore you entirely, or if they have had some degree of social conditioning, they acknowledge your point and promptly overrule it. There is also a third kind, the most dangerous of the lot, the...
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That Bulb Needs Changing.

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That bulb needs changing. Yes, that is correct. And I think this one line is going to sum up my experiences as an adult. This bulb could be a metaphor, or in fact, it could be a real bulb. What I am trying to indicate is that being an adult means that something, somewhere in life, is broken and needs fixing. Always. All the time. I don’t think this is a phase, I think this is a requirement for adult life. As soon as you enter your late twenties and early thirties, all the appliances in your house conspire together to never let you be at peace. They talk and collude. They create a problem small enough to be annoying, but not big enough to warrant immediate action. It exists in that perfect sweet spot of constant background annoyance. It has been an okay-ish day. My "micro-manager" gave me feedback on how I failed to peer into his brain, picking the exact words he would have used in an email to the client. Yes, that is an actual expectation. (Sam Altman? Elon Musk? Can we get m...
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Bonded in Ink

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Traditions make us feel closer to those who came before us, keeping their presence alive in small, familiar ways. They remind us that we’re part of something bigger—a history, a community, a shared experience. They give us a sense of belonging, grounding us in who we are and where we come from. I recently got a tattoo on my wrist. A Marathi word written in Malayalam. Since then, every time I look at it, I think of my grandmother—my father’s mother. She passed away when I was 12. Next year, it’ll be two decades since she left. We weren’t particularly close, just the usual grandmother-granddaughter relationship. She’d ask me to save sweets for my dad, and I’d tease her by eating them right in front of her. Just to annoy her. When she was paralyzed on her left side, I was a little scared. She invented a game—letting me pinch her left arm as hard as I wanted because she couldn’t feel it, but on the right, she’d react dramatically. I remember her in her little granny bed, sometimes scold...
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Heat packs and Hindsight

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In my 20s, I was blessed, Whiskey nights and zero rest. Functioning with no sleep Sleep deprived, but perfect knees I track my protein like buried gold, Count my steps like I’m told Gone are they days of stale fries Holding her back *aru cries* By 9pm my body is drained Oh another muscle is sprained. Did I get enough fiber this week?  Going to cult is my only streak! Once I lived on Maggi and junk A quarter of whiskey also drunk Ohh flaxseeds, chia, nuts too, Honestly, who even are you? So here’s to aging, pain and grace, Tracking health like it’s a race. But deep inside, I’m still that vibe— Just now with heat packs by my side. 
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The Gravity of "Us"

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I am very much a family person. I love my family. I love my immediate family to death, but I also love parts of my extended family. Not that all of us are great, or characters straight out of the movie Hum Saath Saath Hain. We bitch, we gossip, we do panchayat, we take offence, we give offence — the whole nine yards. But somehow, we still manage to be nice to each other. We still manage to love each other through all the lies and backstabbing. We fight over petty things, but we also forgive easily — well, most of us. And we’ve had big fights. Fights where it felt impossible to come back from, and guess what? We came back. We might bitch about each other, but we fiercely protect each other from the world. Yeah, I can bitch about them. Geetika, you keep your trap shut. Think of it as a bunch of us being held together by clay. Sometimes, someone comes loose, but with just a tad bit of water, it’s an easy fix. But of late, I think the clay is starting to harden and become brittle. Guess g...
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