I Just Wanna Be A Girl!

When I was driving to college the other day, I witnessed a couple genuine acts of kindness. They were so pure they filled me with happiness.  As I was driving, I ended up behind a car that had stopped in the middle of the road. I was trying to overtake it but vehicles kept passing me. I sighed and decided to wait until the car moved. That was when a minivan stopped beside me, with a little space for me to squeeze by. The other vehicles in that lane stopped behind the minivan. I looked up at the driver, wondering if he stopped for me or for something else. He nodded at me to go ahead. I smiled to myself and continued. Later that same day, a car asked me to move in front of him. There was a bus standing behind me. The car driver had left space for me to stand in front of him. "Po ma," he said. Another day, there was a black jeep that drove behind me all the way to college. (Now, I'm not someone who squeezes through gaps in traffic. I prefer driving calmly and safely. Usuall

I say name, but I don't mean a legal name that's on documents. I'm talking about someone's nickname, or name that they like to be called. This name isn't something that everyone knows. It's something very personal and it probably has a story attached to it.  The feeling you get when someone entrusts you with something as personal as their name is beyond compare. This just happened to me and I am high.  For starters, the name in question is adorable. I had so much fun when I tried saying it aloud. It sounded so perfect for the person. I could visualize myself using that name on them a lot. I could see how it was perfect for them.  Then, there's the way that the name makes that person feel. It probably makes them feel loved and adored. It takes them back to good times. It makes them feel safe and comfortable with you. That kind of emotional bond is special in any relationship. That kind of safety and security is essential to ensure that the relationship is str

Wow, the rain today was just magnificent. It reminded me of one of the most beautiful scenes from The Vampire Diaries.  It's Damon and Elena. They are supposed to be camping and watching the shooting stars. It suddenly starts pouring. Elena wants to stay where they are. She really believes that the storm will clear up. Damon laughs, even though he doesn't really believe the same thing. They look at each other and smile. It's just so beautiful. They kiss under the pouring rain. When they pull away, Elena looks at Damon and asks, "Promise me this is forever?" I see such love in her eyes when she asks him that. It's pure trust. It's unconditional. It's all-consuming. It's the hope that this is forever. Elena looks at him expectantly and he doesn't fail to set the bar high. He smiles down at her and says "I promise." The scene is so beautiful and you can really see the love between the characters. You can see passion. To me, it feels like

When I was on my way home last night, I was at the Tambaram railway station. It was after 9 o'clock. There was a girl - probably a year or two older than me - who was limping. She was holding her heeled sandals in her hand and was having a lot of trouble walking. My friend and I saw blood on her foot. My heart instantly went out to her. I knew that her shoes had probably hurt her. It has happened to me countless times. I know how much it hurts. You literally can't walk. My mom says 'the shoe bit you.' In my opinion, it does hurt as much as a bit would.  This girl was bleeding. I called her and asked her if she needed tissues to clean up. I happened to have some on me. She told me that she had already used some water to clean it. To me, it didn't look clean. Bright red blood was still glistening on her foot. She told me that if she used a tissue, it would burn her. I totally understood that. I asked her if she needed any help. She told me that her brother was going t

My professor gave us a pretty cool writing activity this morning. He was talking to us about vivid description and imagery and solidity of specification and a bunch of other stuff. He told us to write about the person on our right side.  I was instantly hooked. I love writing. I turned to my right to see my friend, VV (Vedhaviyaas). I scrutinized him for a moment, trying to figure out what I wanted to write. I turned and looked out the window, watching him out of the corner of my eye for a few moments before springing into action.  This is what I wrote...  As a cool breeze brushed past me, I turn to face it. I catch the breeze on my face. My professor is still giving us instructions, but I have been distracted. The sunlight glinting off his silver bangle as he jots down a scribble of notes. He rustles the pages of his notebook as he starts his activity. His pen runs across the page. The breeze ruffles his long hair. He lifts his hand to brush his hair back, out of his face.  "What

Before I start talking about this... I just have to give you the bridge of this masterpiece (How Did It End). Say it once again with feeling How the death rattle breathing Silenced as the soul was leaving The deflation of our dreaming Leaving me bereft and reeling My beloved ghost and me Sitting in a tree D-Y-I-N-G These lyrics are just so poetic and formal, yet they don't feel right for what Taylor is trying to convey. They look like something that she would want to present publicly - like a speech or report. Even though these lyrics are filled with emotion, as always, they aren't in her usual demeanor. I love how the song sounds like a ballad to her lover while it's also an elegy to what she lost.  The lyrics barely make sense, but the part I love the most is "D-Y-I-N-G." It's like she's trying to draw attention to the fact that she's dying inside. (Here comes my own perspective now). This song was written after her break-up with Joe Alwyn. Here, she

This is a very recent find of mine. The moment I heard it, it touched my heart. It was just magnificent and raw. It's written from the perspective of the girl who was left behind. I discovered the chorus of this song on an Instagram reel.  She gets the roses 'cause I picked the thorns She's got everything that I wanted and even more She gets your coffee that used to be me Now she's part of your every morning routine And you might share a big house with a garden But she never shared your studio apartment The narrator is telling us how she turned her lover into a man. She smoothened down the rough edges. She moulded her lover into the perfect guy. The perfect lover, partner, and husband. She tells us that this new girl might live in his new, big house now, but she wasn't with him when he was starting out. She tells us that she was the one who stayed with this guy all throughout his rough patches. She helped him through multiple crises.  She taught him all about romant

(This is kinda poetic but I'm not a poet. So, it's in prose.) Someone's eyes have the power to break you. Well, of course, it's not just anyone. It's someone really important. You see everything you could ever want or need in them. These eyes can persuade you to do anything.  These eyes stare right into your soul and the look in them tells you that you are worth it. These eyes soften under your gaze. They strip you bare and can read every thought that runs through your mind. They see all your vulnerabilities. When you look into them, you feel like you can spend forever there. They tease you into admitting what you want. They are playful and serious at the same time. They are eyes you trust.  Everything else flies out the window. Every doubt you have disappears. In those eyes, you feel like you belong. You're at home when you're lost in them. They notice every microscopic change in you and you can read the changes in them.  At that moment, everything just fee

So my professor told me to write a short story about one of our teachers. I decided to narrate an incident that happened when I was in the tenth grade. Let's go back to 2021.  She was always seen in a sari. She wore her hair in a bun at the nape of her neck. She always had 2 clips holding any stray hair back. She wore bangles on one hand and a watch on the other. wore a gold chain and had books in her hands at all times. We used to think she was scary - I'm sure people still do. (She was a very strict teacher whom we had known for 4 years. We were always very well-behaved in her class. It was only later that we all knew what a fun person she was. Of course, being a teacher, she had to be strict to maintain order in her class. We all loved her loads.) Kavitha Mam. One teacher I will never forget.  "Lekhaa," she called, walking into class one day, with another one of my teachers. It was March and it was tenth grade. Being part of the COVID batch, our board exams were &#