On Changes.

Things are changing faster than I thought they would. I hate change; I resist it, I try to stop it the same way insulators try to tame electricity.

Crying became my savior today. It could wring me out of my self hatred, of how much I was suddenly beginning to despise myself. It feels good when your body gets rid of poison. I was holding onto poison inside. 

I do not want a confrontation. I’d prefer to run away, as always. Addressing the situation uproots too many seeds that transform into tiny nuclear bombs. In the end, we will be the casualties.

Who am I kidding? 

We already are.



There are a lot of moments which have me begging
for magical powers that could freeze the universe for a few moments;
So I could be destiny’s handyman,
and shuffle things back where they belong.

From their frenzied, messed up lives,
relocate people to places they needed to be.
To be the prime conspirator,
and tip the dominos of destiny.

Mend the lovers going astray,
couples parting ways.
Pair love with love, passion with heat.
And you right here,

back next to me.


To make a classic
anxiety-stricken city girl,
One bowl of a painful past,
two table spoons of self loathing;
one cup of anxiety up to the brim
and a pinch of wavering self confidence stirred with a raging inferiority complex.
Then, the most important ingredient:
some fresh, homegrown melancholy reaped from her personal farms of depression,
and stir it the same way butterflies chase their rear ends inside her stomach each time she has to confront someone;
let it simmer on the gas, until small bubbles show up like
stress-related acne struggling for space on her face.
Now pour this mix into a bowl, slowly, carefully, the way she never can;
and season it with the toppings of your choice-
my personal favourites,
fake laughter and hopeless positivism,
then throw it in the trash, where it originally belonged.
Like me.


Dear you,

I’ll meet you
when I’m in a place where
my peace and mourning touch,
intertwined in each other’s ends and beginnings,
stinking of remorse
in the perfect balance of white;
After having moved on from all that was,
waiting to trip over your imperfections.
Before stepping over the line, for once,
to seek a love that feels
more like sympathy and less like affection.


Road Trip

Life became a lonely journey with emotional pitstops. They began appearing a little too frequently. Maybe I needed them, maybe they needed me. But I know that there were a lot of them. I would have to make several stops along the way to refill my deflated tyre of happiness, to refuel my will to carry on. The four wheels that carried me appeared to be spinning, but what spun faster than them were stories in my head that I concocted about myself. I polished my body with scars that shined, and learned to wear my flaws on my sleeve. The wheel that steered my life on sometimes drove me crazy. But I still carried on, despite the seat belt alert resounding towards impending danger, despite the fuel-empty light flickering to grasp what was left of my attention, its blinks spelling disaster in morse code, I carried on.

I still do;
As I wait for the destined halt I will permanently hit at a pitstop one day, and for the vehicle that will crash into me and burn all that I am; putting this troublesome road trip to an end.

Story #40: An Anonymous Note (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

Dear you,

I know you are suffering in your own, unique way. I know you have a story, a history and something that gives you pain. I know you have happy moments that you never account for, and sad moments you never forget. I know sometimes you hide your pain and mask your insecurities.
Because I do, too.
But I want you to know that you’re the writer of your own story. All the characters, living or dead, are the people you chose to be with, at that moment. Every episode you experience is influenced by the words you say and the things you do. Just like every turn adds on to you successfully getting to your destination, every choice adds onto making what your life is or will be.
That being said, I don’t want to turn this into a sermon. We all know our choices make or break, but still, sometimes we end up saying and doing things that we shouldn’t have. Negativity fills us up. Things go bad one after the other, repeatedly, and everyone you’ve ever come to love seems to either not care, or be there for you.
But in times like this, I want you to know that you have the power to change your situation. You always have the power to change the situation. I want you to believe that you do.
Two years ago I had reached the lowest point in my life. I fell, hard; everything in my life seemed to be going wrong. I was sad, and I was sad all alone. To be honest, I still am. I haven’t recovered from it, but I’ve stopped thinking about it. I’ve learnt to focus my energy onto better things. I’ve learned to give into my emotions, but not too much. I’ve learned that emotions make you weak, and love makes you vulnerable. So I have tried to keep them both as far from myself as possible. I’ve come to know that I am alone, and that no matter what, friendship is, in the end, a beautiful illusion we distract ourselves with. Years spent in school together, times spent laughing, and sleepovers: they all dissolve into ego, selfishness and stop to exist. So I’ve just come to terms with the fact that no matter how much I may love people, they will never love me back as much. I will never be enough for anyone, and that is okay because people always have expectations, and expectations always lead to disappointments. 

This may appear to be a very pessimistic view of life, but I swear, I’m a very happy person and a self proclaimed optimist. Although, I believe now I’m turning into a realist. A realist who knows her flaws well; a little too well to hate them. A realist who for quite a long time didn’t look into the mirror because she hated the sight of her face. Anyway, I’m telling you this because I want you to know how I feel better about myself. 

I try to spread happiness. Try to. There’s something very satisfying in seeing someone smile; more so when I’m the reason behind it. So I don’t really care if its over something silly, or a story I just concocted. I just want to make people laugh. Maybe, I think, making someone happy is my way of making myself happy, because I never seem to be able to do it directly. Also, random acts of kindness. You have no idea how wonderful they make you feel. Wish the person who guards your front gate, buy the balloons from the little boy selling them at the red light, compliment your friend who’s insecure about her looks that she is beautiful, tell your parents you love them; there are so, so many little things that you can do that can literally brighten up someone’s day. They feel good, you feel good: it’s a win-win situation!

I know this because these are the things that no one ever told me. I also know this because I know it works. I wish someone would’ve been kind to me back at a time when I felt weak. I was still in school. I’d been crying for last thirty-five minutes in the toilet; that’s how I used to spend my lunch breaks. I’d stopped washing my sore, red eyes because I knew nobody cared enough to ask me what was wrong. This happened again, and again over different time periods in my life so far (I’m big on public crying, lol.) I’ve had multiple panic attacks inside fully crammed metros, and not one person has had the guts to ask me what was wrong. My point here is, in situations like this, people are afraid of being kind. Why? I don’t know. I just hope the people who are reading this aren’t the ones to turn their heads away when something like this happens. 

I want you to do one more thing. If you absolutely hate your existence, or you’ve just been experiencing bad things one after the other, do this: when you lie down at night, close your eyes and just say thank you to the universe for everything that exists in it for you, or rather facilitates your existence. Start with twenty things. The list will expand, day after day and you will realise the thousands of things that you need to be thankful for. I do this exercise at times when I feel that nothing is working out for me anymore, and it just makes me feel that I have way, way more things than I account for, and that my existence is magnanimous. 

I’ve babbled for quite a while now. I just want you to know that your life will go on; you are a unique, wonderful human being who is here for a purpose. I want you to know that right now is all you have. Smile. You’re allowed to cry. Let it out. Love. You will find love, inevitably, but for once try letting love find you? Everything good that is meant for you will come to you in good time. 

I hope you’re happy, wherever you are. 
I wish you well.


P.S: I listened to this song when I was going through a very low point in my life. It made me cry, a lot, but I also felt really better. I want to add it on here, because, I don’t know, maybe if you too are going through something bad, this could help. I hope it does. 

A Little Too Much (Shawn Mendes)

I cannot believe this is the last time I writing this after-note!

We all at some point feel exactly like the writer has described in the episodes of their life. Sadness, dejection, disappointment and what not. But really, true happiness lies in making others happy- be it through lame jokes (if you’re like me) or acts of kindness. These words have really struck a chord in my heart, and I think I will come back to this story, again. I hope the words have resonated with you just like they did with me. 

On that note, I declare The Anonymous Anecdotes Project as closed! I’m so thankful to everyone who’s contributed and/or read the stories; be it one, two or all forty.

Loads of love!


Any opinions, comments or ideas that you may want to put forward to the writer of this story can be mailed to me at ratti.priya5@gmail.com. Positive feedbacks and constructive criticisms are more than welcome. 

(The Anonymous Anecdotes is a project under which anyone can send me a memory, a story or an experience from their life that had a profound impact on them. It requires people to write their respective experience along with the way it changed them or their perception of life. According to the project, these stories are being published anonymously, with the intent of spreading a positive message and a hope that anyone who reads, relates or learns.)


Story #39: How To Restore Your Faith In Love (The Anonymous Anecdotes Project)

I’ve always wanted to teach underprivileged kids. Their smiles have an unexplained magic in them. I found this to be a very inspiring idea since childhood. Unfortunately, I could never find an NGO that was good enough until one of my friends shared a message from an NGO she was part of. I really liked the idea and instantly filled the online form to join. Fast forward a month, I finally decided to go and teach. 

My first day was nothing short of amazing. I started teaching a very young boy who seemed pretty sincere. One hour into teaching, and random little kids start running here and there. One girl comes from behind, puts her palm around my eyes and says guess who. I didn’t know anybody’s names. I had met them for the first time. Yet they felt safe and comfortable enough to play with me. Kids would come and hug me from behind while I was teaching that little kid. They would play small games with me. I clicked some funny pictures with the kids and another volunteer too with the kids showering soo much love on me. I really couldn’t believe it. I have never felt this loved from complete strangers. I instantly fell in love with all of them. 

When I returned home, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking how kids can love so easily. How they are not afraid to love people. Until recently, I was the same. I have lots of love to give and I didn’t mind giving it to all my friends without filters. But due to some negative experiences, I realized one should not do that. Maybe I became too afraid to love again. So this was so shocking for me- how they could love, and express it so easily, without any worry about how the person on the other end is going to feel about it! I had become really bitter and I feel that small incident restored my faith in loving. 

Sometimes our own life experiences condition us into believing things that would otherwise seem absurd had we considered another perspective. We grow onto these beliefs, and mistake them for facts. Beliefs like no one can be trusted or one will never find love. But when we come across instances that no less than throw the truth in our face, or simply, another alternative to our beliefs, it feels like revelation; like an epiphany. 

I think that no matter what we do in our lives, we have to bear the consequences of our actions, good or bad. So nobility brings you back goodness, like in this story. 

This is not a chapter out of a philosophy book; just the things I feel, and this story resonates with a lot of my own philosophy!


Any opinions, comments or ideas that you may want to put forward to the writer of this story can be mailed to me at ratti.priya5@gmail.com. Positive feedback and constructive criticism are more than welcome. 

(The Anonymous Anecdotes is a project under which anyone can send me a memory, a story or an experience from their life that had a profound impact on them. It requires people to write their respective experience along with the way it changed them or their perception of life. According to the project, these stories are being published anonymously, with the intent of spreading a positive message and a hope that anyone who reads, relates or learns.)