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Not Useless, Just Unprepared

  I have become the weakest link in my family — the one because of whom my parents and brothers have to hear hurtful words from others. Individually, they are strong. They have struggled, achieved, and risen higher than what life once promised them. They built themselves with hard work and dignity. Yet because of me, anyone feels free to point fingers at them. I am in a relationship with a man who, in many ways, seems good — educated, thoughtful, someone who understands books and big ideas. But today, even he said something that broke me. He mocked my brothers, said they were small-minded, said I didn’t even know how to use a laptop but still wanted a MacBook — as if my worth could be measured by a device, as if my family’s love had turned into a joke in his mouth. I had no reply. No sharp words. No clever defense. All I could do was cut the call. I don’t know how to argue. Whenever I try to speak, I’m told I’m pretending to be moral, acting wise without knowing any...
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The delicious food

Food is often believed to be about spices, recipes, and perfect techniques—but I have learned that its true magic lies elsewhere. For me, taste is never created by masala alone; it is born from love, from belonging, from the people with whom we share a meal. Food is not merely something I eat—it is a feeling, one that gives me the deepest pleasure. I am, without doubt, a passionate foodie, but only in my own city, where every bite feels familiar and safe, where every street carries a memory. When I lived away from home for my studies, life felt different. The weight of academics sat heavily on my shoulders, and with it came a constant fear—fear of falling sick, fear of street food, fear of anything unfamiliar. Even though I had financial freedom and could eat whatever I wished, I chose restraint. I leaned towards healthy meals, carefully measured and thoughtfully chosen. The desire was there, but the courage was not. Somehow, that carefree joy of eating could never follow me outside my...
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The First Day of the Year

The first day of January arrived with an illusion of celebration. The city breathed loudly, restlessly, as if every house had emptied itself onto the roads. Markets spilled over, traffic stood still, and the evening air carried the impatience of thousands moving nowhere. My mother wanted to go out. The plan had been for the afternoon, but the day dissolved into domestic rituals—meals prepared, time quietly consumed—until dusk arrived unannounced. Still, we stepped out. A flower show had opened nearby, and I drove my scooty with my mother seated behind me, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders. The road offered no welcome. Cars formed unmoving walls, e-rickshaws pressed forward with stubborn persistence, bikes and scooties wedged between them like thoughts trapped in a restless mind. Winter had reached its peak. Children clung to their parents on two-wheelers, small bodies folded into borrowed warmth. Some people were dressed in festive elegance, as if the road itself were an invita...
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A worthless person

I feel like I haven’t been a good daughter to my family. I often think I don’t deserve the love and opportunities I’ve been given. God has blessed me with so much — caring parents and a loving partner — yet I fail to value them the way I should. What hurts the most is that I know the difference between right and wrong, but I still make mistakes that hurt people I love. I don’t understand why I behave this way. My parents have given me complete freedom and unconditional support. They never pressured me, only asked me to focus on my studies. Even then, I distract myself with my phone and avoid responsibility. My partner also encourages me to grow, but I struggle to listen. This makes me feel ashamed and disappointed in myself. I am overwhelmed by my own actions and my inability to manage my life. I waste time, regret it, and repeat the same cycle. God, please forgive me for the pain I’ve caused my parents and my partner. I want to take responsibility for my life and become a better versi...
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