From Ganesh Chaturthi to New Year, the festive season is full of modaks, beautiful sarees, mithai, parties and people we love. But behind all that festive cheer, there’s also a little loneliness, a lot of invisible labour and the question of who we’re really celebrating for.
You Never Really Stop Being Their Child There is something slightly absurd about being in your forties and still being treated like you need supervision. You can manage your career, your money, your home, your travel and most of the decisions that come with being an adult, and yet a conversation with your parents can still end with a reminder to eat properly, sleep on time or carry a jacket. It can be annoying, particularly…
In India, asking for a table for one can feel strangely intimidating. Somewhere along the way, though, you stop worrying about who is watching and start enjoying your own company.
There was a time when having an hour to yourself meant you might actually do something with it. Read a book, make something, learn something, potter around the house. Now, somehow, we just reach for our phones.
Dating in your 40s is a different sport. Everyone comes with an ex, a few emotional scars, a couple of questionable decisions and, if you’re lucky, a funny story about how they got there. The hard part is figuring out which of it belongs in the past—and which of it is about to become your problem.
Every family seems to have that one cousin who unknowingly becomes everyone else’s benchmark. Somewhere between weddings, promotions and polite family gossip, I realised I wasn’t trying to build my life anymore—I was quietly trying to catch up to someone else’s.
For years, I thought I needed to be friends with everyone. I’d volunteer to bring the birthday cake for people I barely knew and somehow believed being the life of the party was part of my personality. Turns out, I’m an ambivert—and growing older gave me permission to stop pretending otherwise.
I once owned nearly thirty lipsticks and still convinced myself I needed one more. These days, buying a single lipstick feels like a commitment because all I can think about is finishing the ones I already have. Funny how money changes once your priorities do.