Your son sent me hate from a Twitter account with 100 followers.

He called me names I can’t repeat. He commented on my body, my voice, my career. He told me I should shut up, I don’t deserve anything, and I should die. I don’t know him, but he knows me, or at least he thinks he does. He knows the curated version of me, the one that exists in pixels.

Sometimes I wonder what happens to people online. How easy it becomes to forget that a human is behind a screen. That a woman posting a thought isn’t an invitation for rage, that a difference in opinion isn’t a declaration of war.

But this is what the internet has become: a public square with everyone shouting, and no one listening.

And no, this isn’t really about your son. It’s about everyone’s son. The one who hides behind an anime profile picture and a username like @thetruthhurts123. The one who scrolls, doom-posts, and then decides to release his frustration into the nearest woman with visibility.

It’s the same boy who was told he’s special, that he deserves more than what life gave him, but he didn’t get the job, or the girl, or the validation. He’s angry. And somewhere along the way, the internet handed him a megaphone for that anger.

You may think it’s harmless. Just words. Just comments. But words become culture. And culture becomes violence.

Every month, my Twitter account reaches millions of people. Which means I’m pushed into circles I never intended to enter, conversations I didn’t sign up for, and timelines full of strangers who don’t know me but feel entitled to dislike me on sight.

My own audience is kind, genuinely, beautifully kind, but you and I both know the algorithm doesn’t care about kindness. Algorithms care about engagement. And outrage is the most engaging thing in the world.

It’s not personal. It’s structural.

It is the architecture of this place, the way the algorithm rewards outrage, how Twitter (sorry, X) and Reddit and Instagram are all designed to keep us angry, divided, loud. The angrier we are, the longer we stay. The longer we stay, the more we scroll. The more we scroll, the more money someone makes.

And in the middle of all this, someone’s son, someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, stops feeling real.

We’ve built an internet where anonymity is both freedom and a weapon. Where you can build a blank account, hurl hate, stalk strangers, watch their lives unfold like episodes, and convince yourself you’re invisible.

Where you can say the cruellest thing, refresh your feed, and go back to your day like nothing happened.

Reddit threads dedicated to “exposing” women. Instagram reels mocking creators for their voices, their faces, their skin. Twitter replies that turn political disagreements into gendered abuse. It’s not isolated. It’s systemic. And it’s getting meaner.

And yes, maybe it comes with the territory. Maybe having a public profile makes you “fair game.” Maybe being visible means being vulnerable. But I refuse to believe visibility should come at the cost of safety.

You don’t get to dehumanise someone just because you can see them through a screen.

A few months ago, I spoke to a journalist friend who said something that’s stayed with me: “We’ve confused proximity for permission.” Just because you can reach someone, doesn’t mean you should. You wouldn’t walk up to a stranger in a café and yell about their appearance, but somehow, the internet makes you believe you can. If you have a public profile, the world assumes it has public rights over you.

I still remember the time someone on Twitter told me I “deserved” the hate because I was “putting myself out there.”

And what’s ironic is that all of this — the vitriol, the trolling, the stalking — doesn’t come from power. It comes from powerlessness. From people who feel invisible in their own lives, looking for a place where their voice feels loud again.

But here’s the thing: that loudness isn’t power. It’s a projection.

Every time I open my DMs and see hate sitting next to kindness, I remind myself that both are symptoms of the same disease, a loneliness that the internet promised to cure, but only made worse.

And I get it. I really do. I understand rage, frustration, and helplessness.
But I also know that using someone on the internet as a punching bag for your dissatisfaction is not liberation, it’s cowardice.

So, dear everyone’s son, next time you think about sending hate from your blank account, remember that I’m real. That the person you’re typing about has a pulse, a job, and a life away from the internet.

And maybe, just maybe, close the app. Go touch grass. Call your friend. Tell your mother you love her. Read something that doesn’t end with a comment section.

Because when you look up from the screen long enough, you might remember that the world still exists and that no one wins on the internet.

You know how people say, “If they wanted to, they would”? Yeah, well, sometimes they want to, but they just don’t have the energy to.

And that’s okay.

I’ve been thinking about friendships lately, which don’t expire when you move cities, switch time zones, or forget birthdays. The kind where you don’t talk every day, or even every month, but when you do, it’s like you just walked into someone’s home after 7 years and the WiFi just reconnected.

My college best friend and I hadn’t spoken in six months. One Tuesday, she texts me a photo with: “boyfriend.” That’s it. no “hi,” no “how are you,” just the announcement. We last talked when she broke up with someone, and we ranted about how no man is worthy of us. Six months later, she just sent me a picture of a boy I have no context for, and we got on a two-hour call to debrief like we were never not in touch.

Another friend went for her MBA and disappeared into group projects and your typical MBA. Months passed. Then she texts: “coming home for Diwali, keep 14th free.” No check-ins, no guilt, just I am coming, be available. And I dropped everything to be available. Because it didn’t matter that we’d been absent from each other’s lives for a while, the second I saw her, it felt like we were kids again, the same jokes, same hugs, same warmth, just in slightly older bodies.

Last week, I wore a saree I hadn’t worn in eight years. I posted a story thinking no one would notice. Five minutes later, my best friend texted: “That’s the saree you wore for the Noida party, right?” and I sat there, smiling stupidly at my screen, thinking, this is what it means to be known.

Psychologists call this kind of bond secure attachment, a relationship where distance doesn’t translate to doubt. Where presence isn’t measured in frequency but in reliability. It’s the grown-up version of friendship Aristotle described in Nicomachean Ethics: not one based on pleasure or utility, but on goodness, where both people want the best for each other, even in their absence.

Maybe this comfort with silence comes with age. When I was younger, I equated love with presence, constant messages, constant plans, and constant reassurance. But as I’ve grown, I’ve realised some friendships are more like self-sustaining.

Sociologist Rebecca Adams once wrote that adult friendships often survive on “voluntary neglect.” You let the other person live their life without constant validation because you trust the foundation you’ve built. You know the love doesn’t fade just because the conversation does.

such friendships are basically rebellions against the hyper-connectivity of our time. They reject the algorithmic demand for constant engagement — the idea that love must be performed, timestamped, and made visible.

“We live in an age of ‘excess positivity,’ where everything, even relationships, must be productive, responsive, measurable. Maybe that’s why friendships like these feel sacred. They exist outside that framework. They resist urgency. They survive slow.” — Philosopher Byung-Chul Han

A few years ago, my dad said something that’s stayed with me. He looked at me and my closest girls, six years into our friendship then and said, “Your friendship will last. Because all of you are growing, changing, becoming new people every few years and still choosing each other every time.”
This year marks ten years of that friendship. Ten years of growing apart and growing up, of heartbreaks, cities, bad haircuts, and new beginnings and somehow, still finding our way back to each other.

Last month, I met one of my girls after two and a half years. I thought it would be weird. What if we’d changed too much? What if the gap had grown too wide to cross? But within five minutes, we were the same, laughing over nothing, finishing each other’s sentences, just muscle memory. like I don’t need you to prove you love me every day. I already know that you do.

It was like we were little girls again, sitting cross-legged on the floor, talking over each other, sharing snacks.

I think about it often now, how we once lived in the same pin code, went to the same cafes, cried in the same bathrooms, and now live different lives across time zones. We see each other once a month if we’re lucky, once in two years if we’re not. But it doesn’t feel distant.

And maybe that’s what lasting friendship really is, not constancy, but return.
Not the people who are always around, but the ones who always come back.
The ones who still text you after six months with a blurry photo and say, “look at this man,” and you just know everything again.

Media I consumed instead of doom-scrolling:

Video - WTF is Fueling India’s Beauty & Skincare Revolution?

Article - If I Work Harder, Will You Love Me?

Article- The Woman Who Always Paid for Dinner

(On some days, I’m only writing because I know the 5 people who will definitely read this and write back to me. I love it when you write back to me and tell me how you feel, what you like or what you think can be improved. You can just reply to this or drop a text on any of my socials, and I’ll get back to you soon, Promise.)

Drink some water and buy yourselves some flowers.

See you later,

Janhavi

The other day, I was watching The Bold Type, and there’s this episode where Jane has to write about stalking an “unstalkable” ex. You know, the kind of person who just doesn’t have a digital footprint. No Instagram, no Twitter rants, no tagged birthday posts. She literally got her girls in a car and parked outside his house, bumped into him, to get to know what he is up to (crazy stalker behaviour ngl). Watching her struggle with that made me think: I have one of those, too.

Actually, two.

One is my best friend from childhood. We’ve known each other practically our whole lives, but she’s not had social media for like 10 years now. Not a single account. No trace. The other is someone I was briefly seeing, whose entire online footprint is a little LinkedIn page, basically just job postings and the occasional repost from his friends who are hiring. That’s it. No soft-launch posts, no cryptic captions, not even a Spotify playlist to dissect. And it made me wonder: how do you actually stay in touch with people who don’t live online?

Because honestly? Most of my day-to-day connections survive on scraps. A meme in the DMs. A reel shared at 2 am. A “lol this reminded me of you” post that spirals into a conversation after weeks of silence. It’s not daily phone calls or check-ins. It’s lighter, lazier. The meme is the door, the chat is what sneaks in behind it.

And there’s a word for this: ambient intimacy. That feeling of closeness you get from just being passively around someone online. It’s when a story reply feels like catching up. Or when someone likes your post, it’s shorthand for “I still follow you.” They’re not real conversations; they’re what media theorists call digital breadcrumbs, tiny little markers we drop for each other to say, “Still here. Still thinking of you.”

But what happens when you don’t have that portal? No stories to reply to, no posts to double-tap, no close friends green circle to lurk in. No contact, unless you make the deliberate effort to break it.

It made me wonder if that’s the thing we’ve forgotten: intentional connection. Not just slipping into someone’s day through an algorithmically placed story, but directly showing up at their doorstep (digital or otherwise) and saying: Here’s a picture of my food, look at this dog I met on my walk, this book reminded me of you, how are you doing? let’s talk.

We’ve built a whole vocabulary of connections through platforms, the Snapchat streaks, the tags, the online status, and the seen at 11:32 pm. Some sociologists even call it parasocial maintenance when we keep relationships alive this way, like a low-effort survival tactic. Without those crutches, you’re left with the raw question: Do I actually want to talk to this person? Enough to write them? Enough to call? Enough to schedule seeing them?

And this is where it overlaps with dating apps, too. So much of modern romance survives on the digital breadcrumbs - likes, story replies, and half-hearted Snapchat streaks. But take away the app, the algorithm, the easy scroll, and what are you left with? You, choosing whether to actually show up. Whether the person is interesting enough to text first, is funny enough to have a laugh without a meme?

And maybe that’s why it feels so rare, so precious, when we do it, because the meme is easy. The text, the email, the call, those take something from you. They make a choice. They take time.

I don’t have an answer to this yet. I’m still fumbling between memes and emails, still wondering if the people who don’t exist online are harder to keep close, or if maybe they’re the only ones we keep close on purpose.

What I do know is this: the algorithm can keep me in touch with everyone, but it can’t tell me who I actually care about. That’s where the line between ambient intimacy and active care shows up.

Because at the end of the day, Instagram might remind you of birthdays, TikTok might tell you who’s trending, and Hinge might decide who’s “most compatible.” But none of those apps can keep a friendship or a love alive. That’s on us.

So maybe the real question isn’t how to stalk the unstalkable, but this: when the online status vanishes and the notifications stop buzzing, whose name do you still type into the blank message bar first?

Media I consumed instead of doom-scrolling:

Article - If I Don’t Post About My Vacation, Did It Even Happen?

Article - The Big Lebowski Friendship Test

Article- In ‘And Just Like That …’ a Craven Era Took Its Revenge on Youth and Hope and Fun

(On some days, I’m only writing because I know the 5 people who will definitely read this and write back to me. I love it when you write back to me and tell me how you feel, what you like or what you think can be improved. You can just reply to this or drop a text on any of my socials, and I’ll get back to you soon, Promise.)

Drink some water and buy yourselves some flowers.

See you later,

Janhavi

“Does London feel like home?” they said, in that casual way people ask questions they don’t realise are loaded. And without thinking, I quickly answered: yes.

Because it does.

I can roam without navigation now. I have my favourite spots, my favourite bakeries. I know which bus gets me home fastest, but I’ll often take the long way home just for that familiar glimpse of Tower Bridge. I can tell you which borough has the best vintage markets, which pub will always squeeze you in on a Friday, what guestlist to get on a Saturday night and where you can find chocolate cake so good it ruins all the others. I know how to read the rhythm of the Tube escalators, how to dodge tourists without looking rushed, how to navigate not just the streets but also the people.

And somehow, I knew enough people in London that I started bumping into them on the streets. That’s how I knew the city had become mine; it shrank from being this intimidating, endless maze to a place where coincidences felt possible.

I got annoyed by the rain, complained about the weather like everyone else, and then turned around and fell hopelessly in love with London in spring and summer. I soaked up every patch of sunlight like my life depended on it. I went boating at Hyde Park on random Sundays. I did pilates almost every day and walked past Tower Bridge like it was my neighbourhood landmark. Christmas lights still made me pause like a tourist. So did the Millennium Bridge. And the Thames, in Richmond, Putney, Canary Wharf, or wherever I found it, always found a way to make me love London again. I couldn’t believe I live somewhere people travel and save to do once in a lifetime.

And as someone who never even used the metro in Delhi, I did not hate the Tube. The 12 pm fashion week, the sneakers, the drunken chaos on Saturday nights, the football chants that made the carriage feel like a stadium.

But what really got me was when books or shows mentioned places I actually knew. Like reading about a pub and realising, oh, I’ve been there. Or watching a movie and spotting the exact coffee shop in Notting Hill, that food place on Brick Lane, suddenly it’s a pop culture reference, but I experienced it.

It’s such a tiny thing, but it made me feel different. Like I wasn’t just passing through anymore. Like the city and I had these little secrets together. That’s what makes a city feel like yours.

And then, just like that, I left.

We didn’t renew our lease, my work contract was up, and suddenly I was packing my London life into two suitcases again, heavy in every way possible, emotionally and physically. I’ve moved homes before. Every time I think, this has to be the hardest thing I’ll ever do. And then somehow, I do it again. Leaving has become its own strange muscle memory, like airports, goodbyes, cartons, and weighing scales are part of my DNA now.

What I didn’t expect, though, was that coming back home wouldn’t really feel like home either.

I went for a movie one night, had dinner after, and came back late. Left a mess on my bed, clothes everywhere, bags half-open. When I walked back into my room, everything was folded, and my bed was made. Two years of living alone in London, paying rent, cleaning, cooking my meals, and building a routine. And here, within days, I had slipped back into being someone’s kid.

It’s not a bad feeling, exactly. It’s comforting, it’s love, it’s being cared for. But it’s disorienting too, like the independent, capable version of me in London was an alternate reality, and here, I’ve slipped back into being someone’s child.

Maybe that’s what growing up is: leaving things, again and again, until the leaving itself becomes its own kind of belonging.

I always thought I was a city girl. Big city, big dreams, big girl job. And London gave me that. I was doing big girl things, sitting in rooms I never imagined I’d be in. I felt expanded, stretched, like I could step into a version of myself I’d only daydreamed about in school.

On my last day in London, my friends went around the table, sharing what they’d miss about me. One of them said, “You always feel at home. You bring home wherever you go. You make people feel welcomed.” And that one sentence undid me. Because that’s all I ever wanted, to have a home, to create one.

For so long, “home” was my parents’ house. The bed always made, food waiting for me, someone remembering my habits without me having to say them out loud. My mother knows my things in that way only mothers do: what I’ll eat, when I’ll get cranky, the small details that make me feel known. And being known, I’ve realised, is its own kind of being loved. If one thing I know is, I am loved.

I used to dream of the day I’d have my own home. In London, we built a home, String lights and mismatched mugs. A fridge that was always stocked. A home that always welcomed people, A table where friends lingered after dinner, refusing to leave, forgetting their jackets so they had an excuse to come back.

Home doesn’t have to be permanent; it can be a season, a rented flat, a picnic on Hampstead Heath, a Sunday walk by the Thames, a dinner table where laughter lingers after plates are cleared.

And now, being back here, I’m learning something new: home isn’t fixed. It’s not always the place you grew up in. It’s not always the place you just left. Sometimes it’s both. Sometimes it’s neither. Sometimes it’s just the people who make you feel like yourself. And maybe, just maybe, it’s me too.

Because if London taught me anything, it’s that home is less about bricks and postcodes and more about the crumbs of routine you leave behind. It’s swearing at the rain, forgiving it the moment the sun comes out, and convincing yourself that a bench by the Thames is just as sacred as any chapel.

Home isn’t one fixed place. It’s something you learn to build, again and again. And maybe, I’ve been home all along.

Links I’ll WhatsApp you if we were fast friends:

Article - How to pay attention again

Song I’m listening to on repeat

Article - Why Can’t I Stop Thinking About Child-Free Women?

(On some days, I’m only writing because I know the 5 people who will definitely read this and write back to me. I love it when you write back to me and tell me how you feel, what you like or what you think can be improved. You can just reply to this or drop a text on any of my socials, I appreciate it so much, and I’ll get back to you soon, Promise.)

Drink some water and buy yourselves some flowers.

See you in the next chapter,

Janhavi

I was always the one who had all the answers. the one who knew what sea was where, which country was facing a political crisis, and who knew what glaciers were melting and why. I prided myself on having random facts that made me seem… smarter. But now, I don’t know why I don’t care enough to have an opinion. Maybe I was too tired to care. Or maybe I stopped caring because I just needed a break from the constant pressure to know it all.

It was like I had an identity built around knowledge, but at some point, I walked away from it. After all the studying for UPSC and every other exam I pushed myself through in the last few years, I started closing those doors to that knowledge, as if it were a defence mechanism to the years of exhausting my mind. Maybe I needed a break from being the “smart one,” so I shut it all off. The books, the notes, the endless pages of information I thought would be my identity. And now, I look back and realise I don’t remember as much as I should. It’s like that part of me that used to think deeply just went into hiding. And maybe I justified it as burnout. Or maybe I just stopped caring for that side of me because I didn’t think I’d need it. I started having fun. I started doom-scrolling. I started being the internet person. I started being the fun one. I started being someone who is just present. I wanted to be the funny, spontaneous person who doesn’t overthink. But I’ve realised now that I miss the old me. The curious me. The one who wanted to know everything for the sake of knowing, not for the sake of impressing.

I miss that feeling of reading for the joy of reading. I miss that buzz I used to get from discovering a new piece of knowledge and pondering over it for hours. But now, I feel like I’ve just been gliding through life, filling time with random scrolling, instead of real intellectual engagement. I let myself become a part of the noise. I get lost in the distraction, but I miss that sharpness. I miss feeling alive in my mind.

It’s funny because I’ve always been someone who didn’t want to be a machine. I chose to work in marketing because I wanted to think creatively, to share my opinions, and to be someone who could bring fresh ideas into the world. But lately? I’ve been going for the easy way out. I’d Google everything. Ask ChatGPT for suggestions. It became easier. It was more convenient. But honestly, it started to feel like I was losing myself in the process.

I used to be on top of world news. I’d debate with my dad for hours about geopolitics and current events. But now, I sit in silence, not knowing what’s going on, not having an opinion to share. Am I being ignorant? Am I living too much in the moment, at the expense of staying informed?

But now, I want to go back to being the person who thought deeply, who knew things, who didn’t mind being the person who sat in uncomfortable silences thinking for a while. I miss the days when I was actively curious about the world around me.

Here’s what I’m doing now:

letting myself be bored again
I know it sounds counterintuitive, but I’m trying to embrace boredom. like, actually sitting in it without picking up my phone or reaching for a distraction. It’s uncomfortable at first. But after a while, your mind starts to stretch. It starts to come up with new ideas, new thoughts, and new ways of seeing things. So, I’m trying to give myself space to think again. No distractions, no noise, just me and my thoughts. Taking the longer way home, a drive with no music, just being bored. It’s about retraining my brain to think the way it used to. It feels a little rusty, but I think I’m getting there.

I’m not googling everything immediately.
Sure, it is convenient. It’s helpful. But I’ve noticed that whenever I don’t know something, my first instinct is to Google it or check ChatGPT. And I’m not saying that’s bad. But I’ve started to realise that it’s okay not to have the answer immediately. This one’s hard because the second I don’t know something, my fingers are already typing into a search bar. But lately, I’ve been letting my brain try again before outsourcing it.

I want to write for the fun of it again
I’ve always loved writing. But lately, it’s felt more like a task than an outlet. I used to just write for the joy of it, so I’m writing like no one’s going to see it. Half the stuff I write now sits in my notes app with no structure, no real purpose. Just thoughts I don’t want to forget. Or maybe feelings I can’t explain yet. Writing used to be how I made sense of things. I’m trying to get back to that. Not every sentence needs to be profound. Sometimes it’s just a mess. And that’s fine. This email is a start. I’d just let my thoughts spill onto the page. That’s what I want to go back to.

I’m reading slowly. like, really slowly.
i’m trying to stop racing through books just to finish them. now i just read until something clicks. sometimes i stop after two pages. sometimes i reread the same line five times because it makes me feel something. and i’m not reading for productivity or goals. just for the feeling of being fully in someone else’s thoughts for a while.

i’m letting myself nerd out again.
last week i watched a 20-minute video about ocean currents and honestly? it was fun?? i wasn’t trying to be smart. I was just curious. and it felt like the most me i’ve felt in a while. that weird rabbit-hole feeling. i miss that.

letting myself be a little “stupid”
Here’s the thing: I don’t need to have the answer to everything. I don’t need to know everything. And that’s okay. I’ve started allowing myself to not know things, to not have the perfect response, to just be okay with not knowing. It feels liberating, honestly. Not every silence needs to be filled. not every opinion needs to be mine.

i’m choosing what i let into my head.
I am used to consuming everything, every tweet, every post, every piece of breaking news. and my brain just started feeling heavy all the time. I’ve realised that part of me getting “dumber” wasn’t just from overworking, it was from filling my brain with other people’s thoughts. My brain needs to process things on its own before it absorbs more from outside. so now, i’m being a little more selective. not in a “i’m quitting social media” dramatic way, but in a “not everything deserves a spot in my brain” way. and it’s helping.

Why I’m doing this:

I used to think I had to be the smart one all the time. The person who had all the answers, who could recite facts and impress everyone in the room. But now, I think that’s a little exhausting. What’s more valuable now is just letting myself be present. to let my brain think freely, to stop overloading it and let it breathe.

So, maybe, this is my way of getting my brain back. It’s not about “getting smarter,” it’s about reconnecting with the parts of me that made me feel alive, that made me feel curious.

If you’re like me, maybe you’ve felt this too, the loss of that sharpness, that curiosity, that fire. But I’m learning that it’s okay to feel “stuck” sometimes. You’re not broken. Your brain isn’t gone. You just need to wake it up.

And I’m waking mine up, slowly but surely.

(On some days, I’m only writing because I know the 5 people who will definitely read this and write back to me. I love it when you write back to me and tell me how you feel, what you like or what you think can be improved. You can just reply to this or drop a text on any of my socials. I appreciate it so much, and I’ll get back to you soon.)

Drink some water and buy yourselves some flowers.

See you in the next chapter,

Janhavi

Yes, Ibiza. Happy birthday to me. I’m writing this newsletter waiting to board my flight, so by the time it reaches you, I’ll be partying at the best club in the world.

No, I didn’t plan it like this. But I’ve decided now, birthday trips are tradition. So maybe life knew better before I did.

This is my European summer, my single, sun-kissed, lemon-sorbet-in-hand kind of season. And honestly? It feels right.

Last year, I turned 25 on another island, with people I thought would stay in my life forever. Watching sunset by the sea and laughing out loud. Most of them have. Some… not so much.

This year? I’m eating lemon sorbet on the Amalfi coast, walking 20k steps a day because it makes me feel like I’m moving forward, even when I don’t know where to. I’ve seen Rome and finally understood why it wasn’t built in a day. I danced with strangers in the square, threw a coin in the Trevi Fountain, drank enough wine and limoncello spritz to lose track of time, and also sense. (They really go 100% on the alcohol there) Turns out, Italy loves you back even when you arrive confused, chaotic, and glowing with SPF 50.

I went to Disneyland Paris!!! And it wasn’t like the movies. It was like the cartoons. You can’t believe your eyes and it is unreal!!

When I was younger, I always thought I’d visit Paris with my husband. That’s what people said, that’s what movies promised, that’s what my mother expected. But last week, I stood under the Eiffel Tower on a girls trip, with my sister and my mom. Bought another fridge magnet and collected souvenirs.

When I was watching Mamma Mia last month, I realised that growing up, I didn’t even know that kind of independence, that kind of freedom, would ever find me. But it did, And I’m glad.

I’ve been living intentionally lately. Not perfectly. But with intention. Saying more yes than no. Booking the ticket, leaving early, drinking water, doing Pilates like my life depends on it.

Sometimes I have three plans in a day, not because I’m overly social, but because, it’s a carefully curated coping mechanism. But it keeps me alive. So does a chocolate croissant at 9 a.m., sleepovers with my girls, and walking more even when I could take the bus.

My bestest friend got engaged last week, another had a baby, another is starting her master’s. And I might be moving countries again. I know the rhythm by now, the packing, the goodbyes, the pretending it’s no big deal, when it always is.

I feel like everyone’s moving forward in straight lines, and I’m this sparkler of a person, glowing, yes, but a little all over the place.

But I’ve learned something, having feelings isn’t foolish, it’s brave. Feeling is the opposite of numbness. And I’ve been numb before. I never want to go back.

I thought by 26, I’d be settled. Maybe married. Maybe more sure. But here I am, still figuring out how to be soft in a world that wants me to be sharp. 26 was sold to me as stability, like by now, I’d know how to fold a fitted sheet, like I’d have figured out who I’m meant to be with, where I want to live, as if the chaos of my early 20s would finally melt into a calm, curated life that makes sense.

But it’s still messy.

It’s still late-night overthinking and early-morning alarms I snooze three times. It’s still changing my outfit five times before going out and not knowing what I want to do with my life. And that’s okay. I’m slowly learning that your growth doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s. You’re allowed to want consistency and adventure. You’re allowed to miss people who left, and still feel glad they did. You’re allowed to bloom slowly, strangely, beautifully, like late-summer lavender.

If you’re reading this and feeling a little wobbly too, like everyone else has a map and you just have blurry landmarks and half-baked dreams, here’s something I’d want a therapist to say to both of us, You’re not late. You’re not lost. You’re just becoming.

I’ve spent the last few years in motion, new jobs, new cities, new versions of myself. And now? I want a little stillness. Not forever. Just long enough to hear myself think again.

So, happy 26 to me.

And maybe to you, too,

if you’re somewhere between becoming and belonging.

Until next time,

Love,

Janhavi

It’s been a minute, hasn’t it? I know I’ve been MIA for a while, but life got overwhelmingly real when I moved countries for my master’s. Writing took a backseat, and I just lived one day at a time. I had to send this 6 days ago, but I brought my procrastination with me into 2025. The truth is, I was too busy living in the moment to pause and reflect. I last wrote to you when I was on a plane moving halfway across the world. It's been 1.5 years, and I’m still in transition, just moving jobs and cities. I completed my master’s (graduating soon) and I am living in London. Don’t worry, I’ll spare you the existential crisis, I’ve got that part covered, and it’s in a “we’ll figure it out” kind of place.

But, let’s talk about adulthood for a second, shall we? You know, the whole “moving to a new country” thing? It’s hard. But moving to London? Oh boy. You’d think house-hunting in Bangalore was tough, wait until you have to submit your LinkedIn profile to prove you're worthy of renting a place. Yeah.

Living in London has been this emotional rollercoaster I never quite expected. London is more lonely than anyone tells you, even when I live with my sister and a friend and we eat our meals together and do almost everything together, it does get lonely. My friends moved to different cities and parts of the world. I had to say goodbye to people this year, more times than I wanted to. People moved away, relationships shifted, and I kept collecting those moments. Could I have said something different? Could I have held onto that hug just a second longer? I knew we were moving on, but I didn’t want to face it. And so, I rushed through the goodbyes, treating them like ordinary moments when they were anything but. In August 2024 we were all living in the same place, just a lift away, eating all meals together, sitting on their bed on Valentine’s Day because we did not have plans, going for walks at 3 am and getting a drink at the cathedral, making last minute karaoke plans, running up and down to get outfit approvals, getting ready for balls and classes together. Now, we try to catch up on video calls talking about life-changing events, and since everyone has moved, we feel like we are an inconvenience and like why would people want to be around when they have moved in their life and have 100 different things to worry about?

I’ve always believed that a flower vase is a metaphor for life, it’s up to us to keep it filled. In 2024, my vase was never empty. I got flowers, I bought flowers, and somehow, that simple act reminded me to cherish the good, however small or fleeting it seemed (I also recorded 100 days of happiness, and I was actually happy). (If you’re on my private Instagram, you know)

2024 has been a year of firsts for me: I started my first 9-to-5 job in an office (from a work-from-home generation, it was a culture shock but fun), dipped my toes into freelancing, and somehow, managed to say more “yes” than “no” to opportunities. Oh, and let's talk about my first big girl job in the city. You just have to step outside the comfort zone and you have seats waiting for you at tables you never imagined you'd get invited to.

About home, I have always thought about creating a space that's mine. You know that dream of a home with a spare bedroom for whoever needs a place to crash? I’ve got it now. My kitchen is always stocked, I have an extra bed and set of sheets for people to stay over, and my house never feels empty, it's a home that feels like home. I even managed to take my first-ever Europe trip, filled with so many “firsts.” I also did Ice skating for the first time ever (I didn’t fall as much as I thought I would), tried sock curls (and yes, they worked!), and travelled to places I’ve only ever seen in photos, life felt full and, sometimes, completely overwhelming.

This year, I also went viral and ended up in Indian newspapers (my mom was thrilled). It’s been a whirlwind, but somehow, I managed to balance all the noise and find moments of quiet joy.

This year taught me that grief isn’t just for the dead. It’s also for relationships, friendships, and people that are no longer with you. I loved someone, lost it, (that’s another newsletter actually), learned to love myself more, to take better care of myself, more water, more fruits, more self-love. But it wasn’t always easy. As Heidi Priebe said, “As long as there is love, there will be grief.” Grief shows up in the smallest things: a familiar song, an old photo, a memory that hits you out of nowhere. It’s not linear, and it doesn’t go away—but grief comes with love. And I’ve learned that love is something I will carry with me, even in the hardest moments.

I've also learned some tiny but important things this year. Like how self-care isn't just about spa days (though those are nice). It's the little things, like changing your sheets, lighting a candle, or sitting down for a meal that makes everything feel a little more in place. And yes, it’s okay to be alone sometimes, not lonely, but just being in your own company, finding peace in the silence and binge-watching a shitty show.

2024 wasn't perfect. No year ever is. But the good days definitely outnumbered the bad ones. And for that, I’m thankful. My flower vase stayed full, and I’m carrying that energy into 2025.

Next year, I want to keep building on this momentum: Cook more, eat my vitamins, eat out less, and maybe finally start using retinol (it’s time, right?). Also, write more, and send you more emails. For now, send this to a friend maybe?

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Links I’ll whatsapp you if we were friends:

Give your friends a chance to abandon you

The secret to love is just kindness

Hating yourself less

(On some days I’m only writing because I know the 5 people who will definitely read this and write back to me. I love it when you write back to me and tell me how you feel, what you like or what you think can be improved. You can just reply to this or drop a text on any of my socials, I appreciate it so much and I’ll get back to you soon, Promise)

Drink some water and buy yourselves some flowers.

See you in the next chapter,

Janhavi

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I randomly opened Snapchat today while procrastinating on some work. As I scrolled through the memories section in boredom, I was reminded of how the digital world has become one big external hard drive storing all our past lives.

7 years ago, I was participating in a street play competition dressed in my typical kurta-jeans-dupatta attire and had a kite flying competition just post that. I flew a kite for the very first time this day, a friend who rarely talks to me taught me how to.

6 years ago I am sitting at chaupal, tired, in my PJs, and I was at drama society practice at 7 am at a college I didn’t even end up going to. I remember we did an activity where we lied down on the ground in complete silence surrounded by trees and did a mental exercise where half of us ended up crying.

5 years ago I was dead drunk dancing at my best friend’s brother’s wedding, it was also the first time I was allowed out late.

4 years ago I was conducting a cleanliness drive at a nearby village and I’m sitting at a panchayat ground with kids and teaching them the difference between types of waste.

3 years ago it was Janmashtami, the mandir is decorated with balloons because it was covid lockdown and we could not get flowers my brother who is 6’2 now is a little baby,

2 years ago I’m on a random drive with my best friends because the pandemic just got better and I could see them in private spaces

1 year ago I was planning to leave a toxic job, today I’m sitting on my bed writing this, on a short career break, and preparing for something that can possibly change my life.

This walks down memory lane was no great revelation - just that the internet has become a catalog of our past. Would I have remembered all of this if it weren't for digital archives? Technology keeps human history alive for everyone, rich or poor. However, humans have never had to create willful forgetting techniques. People automatically forgot things, so when they did recall them or were reminded of them, they gave them significance and importance—otherwise, why would they remember?

Why miss a partner's birthday or a dinner appointment with a friend when you can store the details on your computer, laptop, smartphone, or tablet and receive a timely reminder? The rise of the internet is giving birth to a phenomenon termed "digital amnesia," wherein people struggle to retain information due to relying on digital devices for storage.

I remember reading a couple of years back, how The Beatles lost track of many songs because they lacked a medium to record or archive them. However, it's possible that just as spoken stories gave way to the written word, the presence of digital gadgets to externalize our memories suggests that we need not strive to remember everything. It holds true – since anything can be searched on Google, our personal recollection has diminished. Instead, we now choose to remember only the truly significant matters. And if we can enhance our memory with a little assistance from our technological companions, this could be considered a significant step forward.

I worry that as we increasingly lean on AI to guide our choices, our capacity for critical and independent thinking is slipping away. I sense myself becoming dumber, and more reliant on technology. With technology now deeply woven into our daily existence and tools like chatgpt a simple click away, are we farming out our knowledge? Are we diminishing our intellect? Could we lose the ability to compose an email without AI? Write a sentence without grammar check and rephrase it. I recall reading somewhere that, in essence, we're turning into "Homo Appiens" – a species of semi-sentient beings that have traded their autonomy for convenience.

I remember my high school best friend's phone number by heart because I used to share my phone with my sister and did not have access to it all the time. I had to remember the number to call from my mom’s phone. We cannot do simple math calculations without a calculator and retain vital information like phone numbers or addresses. There's a growing concern that, as machines advance, our grasp of their functioning and decision-making could wane.

AI’s increasing use may enhance our efficiency, but it's also chipping away at our intelligence. Our reliance on machines is dulling our ability to dissect, scrutinize data, and arrive at informed conclusions. We're morphing into a cohort of automatons, content to let machines do the mental heavy lifting. This can result in a reduction in diverse thinking, leading to less-than-optimal collective performance. In essence, humans begin imitating AI, ceasing to challenge their own minds, thus exhibiting a uniform kind of cleverness, no differentiation.

Those excessively dependent on social media news, which itself leans heavily on AI tools, might gradually transform into alike entities, trapped in the echo chambers of AI-driven news streams, where various viewpoints fade. As different groups splinter in their collective thoughts, they become unable to appreciate differing perspectives, and at the far end, they inhabit alternative realities.

Every online move we make is documented digitally and stored in the cloud, ready for retrieval – either by us or others. Sometimes, I contemplate training AI to respond as I would, based on my digital history. With my inbox frequently overflowing and my information retention wavering, AI might just serve as the personal assistant I've longed for. Yet, giving a machine with the power to represent me in my absence sounds intriguing, yet also potentially dangerous.

Whatever the solution may be, one thing is clear: we can't afford to become too dependent on machines. We need to preserve our own cognitive abilities and retain our autonomy as thinking beings. We need to be intentional in life and not go by default settings and routines.

I am thinking more about this, maybe you should too.

Links I’ll whatsapp you if we were friends:

1. Never waste your midlife crisis

2. What If You Just Didn’t Clean That Up?

3. The rising curiosity behind open relationships

(On some days I’m only writing because I know the 5 people who will definitely read this and write back to me. I love when you write back to me and tell me how you felt, what you liked, or what you think can be improved. You can just reply to this or drop a text on any of my socials, I appreciate it so much and I’ll get back to you soon, Promise)

Stay Curious, Remember to drink water.

Until next time,

With Love,

Janhavi

We attach our self-worth to it as if there is nothing in our life worth talking about except our job. We can only strike up a conversation because we have work. Our work becomes the easiest way to escape small talk, or maybe it's because we've let our jobs consume so much of our time that there's no room left for anything else. What I do to make money is so much different from what I do in life. Even outside our offices, across continents and in different settings, we are our jobs first.

When we attach our identity solely to our work, it becomes difficult to see ourselves in any other role. The question arises: "What am I without my coding skills? Can I do anything else?" It's like our expertise in one area becomes a defining part of our identity, making it difficult to see ourselves thriving in different domains. Despite working extremely hard their entire lives to reach their current position, many people with high-pressure positions find themselves dissatisfied with their careers. Hating your job is one thing, but what happens if you become so inextricably linked to it that you begin to hate yourself as well? If I attached myself to my work, I would not have moved past UPSC or taken a lateral shift from HR to Marketing and just quit things and moved ahead. UPSC sucked my soul out of me, and I was miserable. I moved past it because I didn't attach it to my self-worth.

But here's the thing: I have been consciously working towards it, but not everybody is. When our work is all we know and all we do, we cannot think beyond it. Don't be afraid to learn and acquire new skills. Recognize that expertise in one area doesn't limit your potential in others. Take courses, seek mentorship, or leverage online resources to acquire knowledge and develop new proficiencies. Connect with people and ask for an internship, to assist, or to just volunteer. Give yourself permission to evolve and grow. Embracing other aspects of life doesn't mean abandoning your expertise or negating its value.

As someone who works in marketing, dealing with newsletters, social media, and podcasts, I find myself tempted to urge everyone to start their own ventures. I want them to build personal brands and launch newsletters, podcasts, and agencies. Every person I meet could potentially be useful to me in the future. However, I resist the urge to constantly sell myself and my work to every person I meet. I can do it, but I choose not to. I want my relationships and friendships to be more than work.

There's nothing inherently negative about allowing our jobs to shape our identities. Expressing our job titles can remind us of the impact we make and fill us with pride and confidence. But is that all there is to life?

In our work culture, it's common to hear the phrase "We are like a family" being thrown around. It's encouraged and suggested that our team members and colleagues are akin to family. However, the reality is quite different.

While it's possible to get along with them and form friendships, labelling them as a family creates a certain pressure to feel loyal and avoid letting them down. Our alliances are manipulated to prioritize work above all else. Any time we spend on personal matters or with our actual family is often perceived as selfish.

So, I've stripped away all traces of my work from my Instagram, and on Twitter, I aim for maximum personalization. I shitpost, I overshare, and I am completely unhinged. I refuse to let my work consume my entire life, even though I could potentially make a fortune from it. I'm well aware of the missed opportunities by not turning my life and social media into a billboard that screams, "Come work with me!" But I'm okay with that. I'm okay with not going down that path, breaking away from the expectations set by "The Devil Wears Prada."

The other day, I had a conversation with someone who posed a similar question: "If you had to introduce yourself without mentioning your job, how would you do it?" Confucius said, “Choose a job you love, and you’ll never have to work a day in your life.” I disagree. Work is work. And we are more than our work.

So for me, I usually introduce myself as “Hi, I am Janhavi, I write, I blog, I love cosmopolitans and I derive half my personality from my height. I live on the internet and I love meeting new people and exploring cafes.” This changes every 15 days, it could be cosmopolitan today, but a song, a show or a movie that I am currently enjoying on other days. I usually bring up topics I can start a conversation with, or get very personal, that’s who I am. Very personal, no boundaries, oversharing nerd on the internet. 

For many people, They'd actually have to start living outside of work and cultivate friendships beyond their professional circles to be able to discuss something other than work. It's ridiculously scary because you spend your entire day at the office, and the little energy you have left after work is solely dedicated to preserving your sanity. Friendships function from one weekend to the next, constantly hanging by a thread.

That's precisely why I'm writing this piece: as a reminder for myself and to all of you, to openly, candidly, unapologetically exist, whether it be our personal living spaces, a bar or our workplaces.

Links I’ll whatsapp you if we were friends:

1. 14 things I wish I knew at 25 (now that I’m 38)

2. Why You Should Quit the News

3. Sports Are Great Because They’re Pointless

(On some days I’m only writing because I know the 5 people who will definitely read this and write back to me. I love when you write back to me and tell me how you felt, what you liked or what you think can be improved. You can just reply to this or drop a text on any of my socials, I appreciate it so much and I’ll get back to you soon, Promise)

Stay Curious, Remember to drink water.

Until next time,

With Love,

Janhavi

When we moved to this city 18 years ago, we didn't have money for the train we took, a place to live, money for school fees or anything at all. Dad reached out to his friends for support. A friend’s family gave us a rented place to work, and another friend gave us the downpayment on the house. We didn't have money for school fees, a bed to sleep, we had nothing. Two years after shifting to a 1bhk, I remember Mom and Dad discussing whether to buy a sofa or go on a 2-day trip to Nainital. We didn’t invite people over because it was already 6 people living in a tiny place. But somehow we always had people over, because everybody loved being around us.

Over the years, we kept saving, sacrificing, and trying to expand assets. We started to slowly set up things, I have seen him come back home at 3 am because a truck was loading or someone came unannounced to buy. Mumma was a pillar of support too. After working out of a rented place for 6 years, we bought an office in the heart of the Industrial area. There was no looking back from there, in the last 11 years, we shifted to a bigger place, set up a factory, got a car we dreamt of and have everything we could have asked for. Yet, amidst the newfound success, my father has remained incredibly humble. Despite the transformation in our circumstances, he has not let it change who he is at his core or how we operate. His humility serves as a constant reminder of the values that guided us through our humble beginnings.

Lessons and More

Growing up, my dad always reminded me of the dangers of ‘lifestyle inflation’. As he would say, "As you get rich, you want a driver instead of driving, domestic help for everything and better watches, shoes, and bags. You'll ditch fast food for fine dining, take your car instead of a metro, and do luxury vacations instead of economical ones." We have seen all the lows of our lives, so we follow the golden rule - "Lifestyle once updated doesn't go backwards."

As I got older, our lifestyle was definitely inflated and my sister and I also started earning, I realized how right he was. Now, I always stop and think before making a purchase - is it worth the price I'm paying? Can I get it for cheap? We have seen all kinds of days when we did not splurge at all and had to make ends meet so we understand how important money is. And the thing about being frugal is that it doesn't mean you have to give up on all the things you enjoy. It means you have to prioritise and choose the things that matter most to you. 

I recently read about Hedonic adaptation is the tendency for people to quickly adjust to changes in their circumstances, such as income, and return to their baseline level of happiness. This means that as you upgrade your lifestyle, you may experience a temporary boost in satisfaction, but soon you will get used to it and want more. This can lead to a cycle of dissatisfaction and discontentment, as you constantly chase after new and better things

After years of hard work, we do have the ability to afford things, but I cannot take frugality and resourcefulness out of us now. While I do have the means to buy things, I choose not to unless absolutely necessary.  For instance, I will not change my phone until it wears off and stops working while I can afford to buy the top model as soon as it launches.

During my upbringing, I witnessed and heard stories of people who built lifestyles they couldn't sustain and resorted to loans to maintain them. As a kid, I thought people with nice cars and big houses were rich. Now I have learned how a lot of the people with nice things are broke and bankrupt, they have lifestyles running on loans because they need to LOOK RICH. As Will Rogers aptly said, "Too many people spend money they haven't earned, to buy things they don't want, to impress people they don't like." 

So, the next time you're tempted to splurge, take a step back and ask yourself if it's really worth it and if you will get used to repeating that spend. I think this has been the most valuable advice dad has given me, thus far. Being rich but frugal.

Links I’ll whatsapp you if we were friends:

1. on Fathers and daughters

2. making and keeping friends

3. Bad waitress

(On some days I’m only writing because I know the 5 people who will definitely read this and write back to me. I love when you write back to me and tell me how you felt, what you liked or what you think can be improved. You can just reply to this or drop a text on any of my socials, I appreciate it so much and I’ll get back to you soon, Promise)

Stay Curious, Remember to drink water.

Until next time,

Best,

Janhavi

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My mind keeps repeating, "Kitni jaldi jaldi bade ho gaye na hum?" YJHD completed 10 years, and it stuck with me that I watched that movie forever ago. I turned 24. 24??? 24 is such a big number. Imagine having 24 friends. Imagine being on a flight for 24 hours. Imagine having 24 candles on the cake?? 24 is a lot!!!

I have feelings, a lot of feelings, and this may hit you like a truck like it did to me. It is okay. I'll speak out loud just to try to make sense of it for myself-

• I wasn't feeling so old until I discovered that the UN only considers you a youth until you are 24. The typical college age is 18-24. You can get away with "Early 20s are to fuck around" till 24. Remember when we were kids, and 24-year-olds seemed like adults who know the world and have their life sorted?? Such lies, hahaha. I feel like a kid stuck in this fast-moving world. All I want to do is get a house near a beach, sip my Cosmopolitan, and own a small business.

• By 24, I was supposed to be ready for marriage. My parents were married at 24, my cousins are married at 24, my cousins were married by 24, and my classmates have kids. And me? When I was 13, I thought I would be too. But look at me now, I cannot even imagine being in a marriage or having kids. I need to live life and not be responsible for people.

• I believe we have an irritating tendency to establish subjective timelines and impose them on others, only to judge and belittle those who don't conform. The internet is flooded with countless lists dictating what one should have achieved, abandoned, or attained by the age of 24. Frankly, I find most of it to be utter nonsense. At the end of the day, why do we care so much if someone has travelled internationally or if they know how to use AI or if they save a certain percentage of their paycheck per year? Why do we have this unwavering certainty that our way is the ultimate right way? I suppose what I'm getting at is that I used to attach great importance to meeting all the expectations outlined by others, diligently ticking off every item on their lists. But at a certain point, I realized none of it actually mattered. I've got my own lists now. And the majority of the time I idolize a person online and want to be in the same position as them, I realize how they are different or privileged and had it easier or just come from different backgrounds. Everybody has their own journeys, really.

  

• I like people younger than me now?? It's funny how my crush radar has suddenly started to include age verification. It's like my heart has developed a built-in ID scanner, ensuring that my affections don't wander into inappropriate territory.I have to check age before having a crush? This is so weird. I have started calling people "Kids"?? I am a kid.

• Recently, I realized just how long I've been out of school and perhaps how long I've been graduated from college. It's been forever, omg. It is so weird to see everybody I knew at school and college graduate and have no connection anymore. Everybody in my space is a stranger now.

Well, let me tell you, I've also gathered enough life lessons over the past year to fill a library. But hey, don't worry, I won't bore you with all the details. I don't want to talk about them. Just know that I'm navigating through these uncharted waters of adulthood, and it feels like I'm on a rollercoaster without a seatbelt. Life is hurling surprises at me left and right, and I'm just over here like, "Hold on tight, folks, we're in for a wild ride!" I have big things coming for me this year, It’s scary but I am excited! I'm here to embrace the chaos and show life that I can handle whatever it throws at me. Bring it on, universe!

You'll hear from me again soon. Until next time,

Janhavi

It's a time when everything feels important and insignificant at the same time like we're all extras in a movie, but we don't know what the plot is. Are we just living in a world of our own (Like Uday Chopra mentioned in The Romantics?)

Anyway, my life has been a constant dance between success and failure, getting lost and being found. It's like one challenge is thrown at me after another and a lifelong struggle to navigate this duality and find balance amidst the ups and downs. I have absolutely no direction of what I want and who I am. 

I am part of this woman and AFAB community by Ripen.in, and I was giving someone a pep talk “This is the only time you have absolutely no responsibility on you, so take the big leaps and big risks.” I repeat this to everybody because on most days I need to hear it myself.

We're just one decision away from a completely different life. You could pack your bags and move to a new city, decide to get a new degree, jump into a new career, swipe right on that Bumble match and find the love of your life, or even start your own business. Who knows? I got my vision corrected and braces removed and it’s pretty life-changing for me. In the past two years, I went from someone who wanted to only hustle and do big things to someone who wants to chill at work and life and have a healthy balance. Who knows what tomorrow holds? From couch potato working from home to living in Thailand or from a cubicle to a successful entrepreneur. Our 20s are to take a gamble on life because you never know where it might lead you!

But let's be real, and stop the influencer pep-talk. When I am done being all ambitious and living in my world, we realise how some of us are stuck at home, some are stuck at jobs we cannot leave, in relationships that are meh, and in places that look like getting stuck deep in a well. You are not stuck where you are unless you decide to be. Change is never easy. I have changed careers twice in the last 18 months, it’s absolutely scary!!! It's like trying to do a cartwheel after a night of drinking - you might have the confidence, but the execution is a whole different story. It takes so much guts, support and an army of cheerleaders. And don't even get me started on the dilemma of staying with something that is comfortable right now or going for something that makes your adrenaline rush.

I mean, I am constantly questioning: Am I on the right track? Should I be focusing more on my personal life or career?  Is freedom a blessing or a curse? I love living alone but the loneliness kicks in. I moved to a new city but I have no friends. I love my job but I hate fighting my family over it. Do I have the right people around me? Will this decision bring me happiness? Am I functioning to please others or am I doing it for myself? Am I overspending and not saving enough? Do I want to ever marry? Have kids? Have a house? Should I just become an influencer? Am I a bad person? Why am I always sad? Am I not doing enough?

TBH Everybody around us, whether they are getting married and having kids, at the peak of their careers, or they look like they have it all sorted - but Everybody is as lost as we are. Trust me, after talking to tons of people and looking into lives, everybody has it hard and everybody is trying to fake it till they make it.

For me, the uncertainty is overwhelming. We don't know when things will get better, and we're left at the mercy of ambiguity. Time runs so fast that we fail to pause and see where we have come. It's hard not to wonder what kind of person we'll be on the other side of this. On the other side of the 20s. Will we stay the same or become unrecognizable? When will we feel normal again?

Uncertainty is difficult to tolerate when we're used to having clear answers. School college tak toh sab sort tha, sab pata tha kaise hoga and kya karna hai. Personally, I'm better at taking action than I am at sitting with the unknown. However, in looking back at my life, this short little life, I realize that every ambiguous and painful experience has helped me understand myself more deeply. It was worth enduring the discomfort of ambiguity to gain that insight.

In fact, most things that truly matter in life are inherently ambiguous. If we can't learn to tolerate uncertainty, we'll constantly be striving to eliminate it, leading to anxiety and suffering.

It's easy to feel left behind in a society that values growth, speed, and competition. and like Ted Mosby says, "It's like we're waiting for the universe to give us one big "Yes!" in the form of a sign, but it's not coming."

I will tell you exactly what I tell myself - to hold on. Fuck around in your 20s, stop thinking too much and take the leaps. You're on this constant quest for identity. You're trying to figure out who you are, what you stand for, and what your place in the world is. When you get a little overwhelmed, remember today was unknown too, you are here and you are okay. We’ll get there, and we will be okay. Hold tight. 

Links I’ll whatsapp you if we were friends-

1. Cities and Ambitions

2. Self-awareness is Lonely

3. “Life is short, though I keep this from my children”

(On some days I’m only writing because I know the 5 people who will definitely read this and write back to me.

I love when you write back to me and tell me how you felt, what you liked or what you think can be improved. You can just reply to this or drop a text on any of my socials, I appreciate it so much and I’ll get back to you soon, Promise)

Until next time,

Janhavi 💞

When my college ended, the pandemic hit. I was very big on social work and was always out on the streets doing something, or other, so I wanted to do UPSC

So after college, I was preparing for UPSC for two years and I was also working with my dad in the family business. Straight out of college, I had very little understanding of the world and I was  very naive, toh theek hai chalo UPSC karte hai.

During that period, my social life was dead, my mental health was fucked, and I realised in therapy how my confidence was gone. As someone who had always been an overachiever, it was a tough blow to face failure for the first time in my life.

I was always snappy and I haven’t been a good friend or a good daughter or a decent sibling in those two years, but everybody around me was always so patient and showed up when they noticed I was going down the spiral. Little work on the side always kept me in routine and busy, but it wasn’t enough.

With a failed attempt and in the middle of preparation for my second, I decided I don’t want to do it anymore. An exam with only 0.1% success rate and an old-age process was not for me. It can’t decide what I’m worth and I need to prioritise my mental health. The person I was becoming was not me, I didn’t want UPSC to become my life. So I just pulled out. 

In March 2022, I started looking for a full-time job in the startup ecosystem and preparing for CAT. Because I couldn’t throw this bomb on my parents without figuring out what I wanted to do. My parents have always prioritised education above everything and I knew they will support what I decide. They’ve always been supportive and I’ve never had a pressure to perform from their end. It was always “we love you and we know you can do anything in the world”

So, I knew people because of my background in social work, and a lot of corporates worked with NGOs. 

I got three offers within a month of hunting, and I ended up joining a startup above corporate. With my extracurricular experience in college and operations with Dad, I took an HR job, I was their first HR in-house. 

It was extremely difficult to transition from that under-confident preparation stage person to a job, where you need to put your foot down every day. But yeah I had people who loved me and were constantly cheering for me and picking me up.

It’s been more than a year since I decided that I wanted to quit and even today people who knew keep asking what happened and why I did it. My trauma response was to just forget I had this whole experience and I don’t even mention it now. Competitive exam preparations are tough, so if you have someone around you who is preparing, or recently quit preparing, ask them if they’re doing okay.

When we are quitting something we made our whole identity and shift to a whole new thing, the pressure is insane. I had no idea what I was doing. People around me told me that they were just confident that I will figure it out.

A few months down the line I realised I don’t want to do this either. HR was not my true calling. I had always been passionate about new experiences, networking with new people, content and marketing, and I decided to pivot my career path. I have learned valuable lessons about self-care, self-discovery, and the importance of aligning my career with my passions and values. It hasn't been an easy journey, but I am proud of the person I am becoming.  Life is very unpredictable, but I am learning to embrace the uncertainties and trust the journey of self-discovery. After all, sometimes, calling quits on one path can lead to a fresh start and a new, fulfilling direction in life. So, Now, here I am, writing content and learning new things every day.

Until Next Time, 

Janhavi

Growing up, we hear stories of people being childhood friends who end up getting married and/or starting families at similar times. All this so that they can grow families together and side by side. They form a close-knit community of their own. We have dreamt of having this. Making this our life and having friends like this. 

I grew up in a house of friendships, surrounded by love and laughter. My dad has friendships that go back more than three decades and it's not just a friendship now, we're a family. I have grown up calling his friends Chacha, Tauji, Taiji, and much more, and always treated their children as my cousins. It's crazy to think that I've literally grown up in front of them, seeing them and adoring them. But what was most striking about their friendship was their unwavering support for each other. "We were there for each other through thick and thin," my dad once told me. "No matter what was happening in our lives, we knew we could count on each other."

Their bond was tested over the years, with the loss of loved ones, family crises, and financial struggles. But through it all, they remained each other's rock. I was always in awe of the way they could turn to each other for comfort and support during the toughest of times. When I look back, we have all lived in cramped 1BHKs that were too small to invite people in. They never judged each other for their humble beginnings or financial struggles, and that's a rare thing to find in this world.

You know, when I think about my dad's group of friends, it's hard not to smile. They're like a group of big, goofy kids who just happen to be adults now. Their friendship is made of getting drunk and dancing on the hills on “tum jaise chutiyon ka sahara hai dosto”. Their friendship is made of crying at their kid’s wedding like they’re marrying their own kid, waterfalls, hiccups, and ugly sobbing. It’s made of taking care of each other’s families when one is not around. It’s made by giving the first down payment to a friend’s house to rent out an office for free. The concept of Angel investors is here now, they have been each other’s Angels forever. They still are the 18-year-olds who fight and leave each other on the roads, pushing, jumping and snatching things from each other. Fighting for the last piece of snack, dancing and singing in the car. It's like they never grew out of that mischievous stage, and honestly, it's kind of inspiring.

Even though we’re not biologically related, there is that familial relationship. Whenever we have intimate, small family things, they’re always there and vice-versa. Whenever my family needs support or is going through a hard time, their families are always there. Our lives are about loving and being loved. Giving without wanting. 

We moved into a new house and dad was out of town. Suddenly, we heard a strange noise coming from the terrace, and it freaked us out. I mean, we were new to the area and had no idea what to do. So, we called dad and He called his friends, and I kid you not, within minutes, I had 9 people at my gate ready to investigate the noise and make sure we were safe. 

When my dog died, he was having seizures and I was a mess. My cousin, who happens to be the daughter of one of dad's closest friends, showed up at my doorstep without even being asked. She just knew we needed her there. And when my grandma slipped and we thought she had a fracture, dad was away, so we called one of his friends and he immediately showed up. He did not even ask me what happened and what was up, he was at the door.

During the second wave, everybody except me got covid in my family, I was isolated on the ground floor, with no access to the kitchen, clothes or anything.  But before I could even start panicking, my dad's friends swooped in like a superhero squad. Within an hour, I had food, water bottles, clothes, and everything I needed to be dropped off at my door. It was like a scene out of a movie - the world was freaking out about COVID, and here they were risking their lives to take care of me.

I can count countless such events. They have always shown up, whether we asked for it or not. And it's not just about physical presence - they always have our backs emotionally too. 

This has made me value friendships in my life. My long-term friendships with my girls have taught me everything about love, care and relationships. We’ve all seen each other grow into different people, and go through phases, life-changing events, and everything. We were talking and one of my girls said that we’re literally relatives now, we’re constantly fighting and bickering out of love and no matter what happens, we know we’re around. We have been around for a while now. We understand without even talking, just silence and emotions. The long hugs at the doors when someone is coming back from another city or leaving home. My best friends will be my kid’s godmothers, holding chaddar at my wedding and we will have our families grow together too. 

I don’t say yes to plans on Sundays because - I have people over. I always have people over. My dad and his friends and our families meet every week. On most days we’re just chilling together, sharing experiences, dancing, drinking and playing cards. We take all our trips together. We now live in our own little bubble. There is so much belonging and love and care and just looking out for each other. 

I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure my house was designed with one purpose in mind: to host. I mean all our houses are designed to host. And I'm not just talking about the occasional dinner party or holiday gathering - I mean, we're talking about full-on weekly gatherings. I have a full floor, just to accommodate people. It has a pantry that is always full of food and drinks, and there are multiple halls and sitting areas to accommodate people in my house. The concept of a 15-seater sofa hall, a mini banquet hall and another 10-seater drawing room is only a thing here in India. We joke about it - “My house is a Dharamshala (community centre) and I always have people over”

So, no matter how much I act like I hate how most of my Sundays are occupied while I should be out there partying, I’m grateful for friendships and relationships and what we have.

I may not have understood the depth of their friendship as a child, but as I've grown older, I've come to appreciate it more and more. Their bond is something that I'll always admire and strive to emulate in my own relationships. And as I said, the term 'friends' just doesn't seem to capture the depth of what we have. We're more than that - we're a family, a support system, a community, a tribe.

LINKS THAT I’LL WHATSAPP YOU IF WE WERE FRIENDS :  

1. Platonic

2. My Pronouns Are She/They. What Are Yours?

(On some days I’m only writing because I know the 5 people who will definitely read this and write back to me. I love when you write back to me and tell me how you felt, what you liked or what you think can be improved. You can just reply to this or drop a text on any of my socials, I appreciate it so much and I’ll get back to you soon, Promise)

Stay Curious, Remember to drink water.

Until next time,

Best,

Janhavi

You thought you will never hear from me again? Ah, not that lucky. I am back with all my love and chaotic energy. The last time I was here, I was sad, I left my job and I was a complete mess. Everybody who read that newsletter texted to check up on me lmao.

Todayyyyy, I am fucking happy, loved, healthy and grateful. The last few weeks have been so busy that I haven't even had time to reflect back on last year and what's coming ahead. I still have some commitments, but I think my new year and new me will start in Feb. So here I am, reflecting on things.

Teeny Tiny Realisations

• Life is happening one week at a time. You realise that you are living weekend by weekend. After every weekend, the realisation hits how another week is gone. Your plans and procrastination are now shifted to next week. We are just living in the default setting, life is happening on its own, and we are just muses. It’s time to not roll on life’s instructions but pause and look back, Is this what you want? What is missing? What do you want to do differently? 

• Seeing kids and old people fills me with so much hope and joy. My 95-year-old grandma in ICU gave nurses an ultimatum to remove one of the 4 pipes or she’ll do it herself. The nurse removed the oximeter for a minute, and Amma goes - “this is not the real one, remove some other”. Then she found a new prank (all this when the doctors said she is in danger) - so she started playing with her Oximeter and when it moves, the machines beep beep, She laughs and says “dekh nurses aayi bhag kar😭” One of these days, I was combing her hair and she decided to remove the oximeter and the beeps got crazy snd everybody was very done with her and she is laughing uncontrollably in the middle of ICU.

• Sometimes I dive into work to avoid everything around me. Because I can control work, it’s quantitative and the accomplishment gives me happy hormones. Feeling the feelings does not seem like an option, it looks scary and overwhelming. Busyness does come as a resume. I am still figuring out how healthy this is, but this has become a coping mechanism.

• We will never fully know someone. There will always be events and things you will never know about someone. Everyone is living a 24-hour life while you are living yours. People’s lives are larger than yours and yours is larger than theirs. Accept it. Give and take space.

• A well-read person poses a challenge to institutions and organisations. Whether it's government, work or homes. I would have taken everything as it came to me if I wasn’t well-read and aware. I would not have questioned things around me, questioned myself and would not be speaking up. Education has given me enlightenment and empowerment and I shall keep reading.

• Sometimes I feel like I’m running so behind and doing absolutely nothing and start comparing myself to people. Not in a jealous type, but adoring them being “oh I also want to do that” and how they present themselves and how they talk and stuff, Only to realise later that they’re so much older than me and have so much more experience and I’m just starting out and they were as clueless as I am right now. We need to detach our self-worth from the work we do and start seeing beyond it. We are refusing to acknowledge that our strengths are our strengths because we see someone else doing something that looks perfect to us and we want to become that viral, validated, trendy person. Look into your journey, find what is your worth, my friend.

• The fact is, love is not enough. All those fairytales, all those stories and movies you’ve heard and watched growing up, lied to you. Love is never enough because love is irrational. When we believe “love is all we need”, we ignore things that are important to us. We are all growing up with our own priorities, situations, careers and responsibilities. At this stage, more often than not, they will be above love on priority lists. Love does take a backseat in this over-ambitious world.

  

• Grief is still here, and it stays, but it doesn’t consume you as it did. It gets easier and it knocks once in a while. It’s not a roommate anymore, but your guest. 

• I overshare. I overshare not for you or the world to read it, I overshare to get it out of me. I really need to document things because it feels like life is happening at 2x and if I don’t document, I will forget the little moments that are happening, the realisations I have and the experiences I get. A lot of people have told me how easy it is to talk to me. How I can make anyone tell me their deepest darkest secrets in like 2 hours? I overshare, which helps people to overshare. If someone is being vulnerable with me, even if this vulnerability involves being upset with me, I always feel honoured. Do you mean to tell me this person trusts me enough to navigate the rawest version of themselves and their emotions? a huge compliment really <3

• My life’s just made of friendships and friends who have picked me up when I couldn’t. I really don’t know what I’ll do if, after a long day, I can’t call my friends and rant about it and tell them all the unnecessary details of my days. Life is really all about having people to tell the unnecessary details of your days.

  

• We know more than we think we do. We all know random information which comes to us in surprising instances. I realised this on vacation when a jellyfish bit someone and peeing on the feet worked. Why did I know it works? 

• Everything can be learnt on the internet. The internet holds the world’s most expansive library, and almost anything you can think of can be found somewhere on the web. The kids these days are smarter because they are on youtube all day and are learning about solar systems, robotics and everything at the age of 3. 

• Good things don’t come to those who wait. They come to those who take daily, deliberate actions toward their goal and experience good things. Start with 30 minutes per day for 30 days. It works, trust me.

• I am extremely grateful to have friendships that let me be vulnerable and show parts of me that are not easy. My friendships are all I have, my friends have always been around. They fill me with so much joy, hope and optimism. They have accepted me for who I am—true, unapologetically myself—and this has empowered and instilled confidence in me unlike anything else. I am a confident person on the face because there are 5 cheerleaders behind my back

  

  

• I disappear from the internet after I post, I deactivate my Instagram a lot and I take a lot of breaks. I have tried to have control over the content I consume because honestly there is SO MUCH. This means curating my feeds and having different accounts for different purposes. I refuse to let my content control me. I have stopped having a say on everything, I would rather“I don’t know enough about this to make a comment” and not bullshit my way around.

• Slow replies and unacknowledged texts - I’ve moved past the stage of feeling guilty for not being able to respond immediately. I have a group of close friends with whom I can communicate every day and it’s effortless. The rest of the people I know are people I take time to respond to. I constantly hope they will take their time to respond too when I reach out. I have stopped being readily available. I hope people understand how the apps/platforms are created to make a sense of urgency, while there is none. There’s business to have people on the apps all the time. I refuse to make myself available like that.

• You're allowed to take a break. Stopping for a day or a week or a month won't be as bad for you as you would imagine. You are free to disappear and take however much time you require to feel like yourself again. When you're ready, the world will be there to welcome you. When you feel comfortable again, come out.

• Stop reacting impulsively. Keep in mind to step back during crises. Perspective-shifting and rewriting your own story are crucial for progress.

• Starting is scary. When you start something, your skills are raw, your knowledge is limited and you feel like you know nothing. Even when you try your best, all you can produce is “just okay” or “average”. Nobody wants to produce something that is "just okay." You'll think it falls short of your expectations. You'll be concerned with what people think of you. You'll question whether choosing a different route would be preferable. But unless you're prepared to push past the growing stage, it is impossible to get to that step. We have to be patient. Your great work is on the other side of your early work. The only way to be exceptional later on is to have the courage to be "just okay" right now. This is how it is for everyone.

• Growing up is such a lonely and rewarding process. I am beyond the clouds seeing my best friend get into the college she wanted, but she is now shifting to a new country and we’ll both be alone in ours. I am so happy to see people I love achieve the things they wanted, there is nothing more I can ask for. But we’re all now living and growing in our individual spheres, not together anymore. Side by side but miles apart.

• I read somewhere that ‘men earn money to feed their ambition and egos. women earn money to have the ability to leave any situation that threatens them.’ This stuck with me. Even when women are earning today, the majority of financial decisions depend on men in the house. Women need to start taking allocation and management of their money. This corpus may not solve all problems, but it surely makes the uncertainties appear less daunting.

• I have become extremely self-aware. I know what I want from a partner, from friendships, and from myself. How I want things to happen to me, and how much I am willing to give and take. I have control over the choices I make and I try to be accountable for them. It is both scary and empowering. I discover new things every day and It feels like a never-ending learning process. I love it.

LINKS THAT I’LL WHATSAPP YOU IF WE WERE FRIENDS :  

1. Home is where your Best Friend Is

2. Fight for Love

3. Things Organized Neatly

This is it, for now, I am learning and unlearning constantly. Hope to keep doing it forever.

(On some days I’m only writing because I know the 5 people who will definitely read this and write back to me. I love when you write back to me and tell me how you felt, what you liked or what you think can be improved. You can just reply to this or drop a text on any of my socials, I appreciate it so much and I’ll get back to you soon, Promise)

Stay Curious, Remember to drink water.

Until next time,

Janhavi

August just slipped away? I left my job, with no plans about what to do next, I talked to hundreds of new people, I got my permanent driver’s license and I started working out regularly to unlock my happy hormones. 

To be honest, with so much going on, I'm not sure about anything - work, romance, myself. But the one thing I am is this: I'll survive it all, come what may.

And it finally started to rain? The sky has been unreal lately and I’ve been a fan of it. 

In the last few weeks, I've been clinging to small acts of love, care, and kindness shown by people both known and unknown. Here’s a list. A dump? A memory of it. The things people do and make me their fan? admirer? lover? I’m all in for the kindness shown and the love showered, unconditionally, without any expectations in return. 

People to hang on to 

(Inspired by Mollyburford)

People who put flowers in their hair, their bag and their notebook. I have a friend who gets me flowers every time we meet, they made a notebook for my birthday which has pressed flowers and letters to me.

People who put their hands or feet in between the doors, to hold the lift for strangers. People who notice that you disappeared. People who check up on you regularly. People who compliment without thinking twice. People who sleep on a video call with you when you are anxious or sick. People who tell you to do better and bigger things, constantly. People who believe in you when you don’t believe in yourself. All the women out there, the sisterhood, the constant support, acknowledgement and appreciation.

People who laugh out loud, unapologetically and someone who laughs till their stomach hurts. My sisters and I laugh a lot, and once we start, we just cannot stop. We have fits of laughter, and if we look at each other's faces for even a second, we are in uncontrollable laughter again. People look at us like we are madmen, but trust me, it’s impossible to not laugh.

People who make playlists for you. I was heartbroken and my best friend made a playlist and named it “I wish you don’t have to share your favourite song with the wrong person ever again”

People who make faces at kids in public. Someone who smiles at strangers. Someone who helps the elderly on the streets. Someone who says “I don’t know”, “I need to read more”, or “I was wrong and you’re right”. People who are ready to unlearn and learn and change opinions after knowing better. Someone who knows how to pet a dog and give belly rubs. Someone who pets every animal, everywhere.

People whose fragrance you can identify. People who don't get mad when you respond after a week. People who pick ladybirds on their palms. I had a friend in college, she would pick ladybirds off the ground on her hand and then give them to me. Every time I look at ladybirds, I think of her.

Someone who takes “If we ever stop talking, send me a song” seriously. Someone who sends you a new song every day.

People who listen to you without judgement, no matter how weird, kinky or unconventional things you do and say. Direct communicators. People who are not afraid to speak what they are thinking, they don't keep you guessing if they are mad, they talk and solve.

People who hold their childhood in them, making videos at 3 am and painting their hands purple. My 23yo friend and 21yo sister, in their full senses, decided to paint their hands and make this at 3 am. After a lot of laughs, paint splashes and boomerangs, they decided to frame this and keep it with themselves forever.

Back huggers, side huggers, Huggers. People who put you on the inside of the road. Acts of service, let me do that, let me get you soup, take my jacket. Someone who has seen you ugly cry and kissed your face. Someone on the internet tells you to drink water, take a break, or just smile. People who say bless you to your sneeze. Holding hands.

People who complete your sentences. Shared meme language. Someone who picks up your vocabulary. Someone who takes a walk with you. When someone on the internet, in the park or in the metro, sings for absolute strangers. Friends across the internet. People who share skies, stars and the moon. People who are not afraid to cry. Someone who brings a drink for you when they get one themselves.

Love letters and long emails.I have a box full of “100 reasons Why I love you” tucked in my almirah drawer. I have emails and love letters expressing love to me, I keep them so close to my heart. One of my cousins said she loves me more than her own kids, in the family group!! A boy once wrote a poem for me and it said "She looked like she has been stuck in a month of Sundays long enough to forget what Monday morning feels like.."

People who still believe in Love. People who still love. People who still love you. 

I think I really like people. I am all the people I have ever met. On days that make me go “I don’t deserve to be loved, why do people love me?” I go back to the people who love me.

And this reminded me of two pieces I read a while ago. Here you go -

(I hold pieces of literature very close to my heart, they speak volumes about how you feel in very less words.)

A poem by Danusha Laméris on the value of small kindnesses:

"I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs to let you by.

Or how strangers still say “bless you” when someone sneezes, a leftover from the Bubonic plague.

“Don’t die,” we are saying.

And sometimes, when you spill lemons from your grocery bag, someone else will help you pick them up.

Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other.

We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot, and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile at them and for them to smile back.

For the waitress to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder, and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass.

We have so little of each other, now. So far from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.

What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these fleeting temples we make together when we say, “Here, have my seat,” “Go ahead — you first,” “I like your hat.”

The following piece is by Louise Erdrich

“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and being alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You have to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes too near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, Wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself that you tasted as many as you could.”

This was too many feelings for this many words. I will see you again, hopefully soon.

Till then, send me your sky, flowers and happy pictures! You know where to find me! 

LINKS THAT I’LL WHATSAPP YOU IF WE WERE FRIENDS :  

1. Known to themselves but unknown to the world (A photo series)

2. To The Nerds 

(On some days I’m only writing because I know the 5 people who will definitely read this and write back to me.

I love when you write back to me and tell me how you felt, what you liked or what you think can be improved. You can just reply to this or drop a text on any of my socials, I appreciate it so much and I’ll get back to you soon, Promise)

Until next time,

Janhavi 💞

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It’s four hours into midnight that I am writing this. You will probably receive this tomorrow evening. Have we all not grown up too fast, and we’re racing against time too fast? I just saw a Snapchat Memory from four years ago, when I was on a drive with my girlfriends. One of us had broken up and the other two were out to cheer her up with ice cream. We lived merely 15 minutes away from each other and met almost every day. Adulting hit us, and we don’t know how we transitioned from that to being cities away and living lives that don’t let us breathe.

I have three girlfriends, all of whom are different personalities, different people, and different stories, I don’t remember how I picked them up and how we ended up becoming friends? Although honestly, everything would suck without them. We send calendar invites for video calls, even after which one of us doesn’t show up. I also know, that if I call them at 3 am, they will pick it up and they’ll be drunk, lying in a man’s arm that they won’t remember the next day and they’ll say to me, ”Hi, I love you, are you okay?” I just know that my safety net is there, even when I can’t see it.

Anyway, I went out for a whole weekend, after forever. I like to stay in mostly, but I met people for lunches and dinners and for night stays, and I realised that my social energy has a bar now? It wasn’t the case a couple of years ago. I was meeting around 50 people every day, I was interacting, talking, going out, and all that made me happy. However, now I have become so comfortable in my personal space that if I am hanging out with you, know that you really are important to me.

As humans, we’re constantly changing and We’ve started to value personal space and personal growth as we’re growing. We’re all a little selfish now, for our own careers and life. Friendships and friends have shuffled down the priority list and people who understand the precedence phenomenon are moving forward with us. We’ve just been extremely occupied in our own selves- personal growth, personal brand, personal space and so much more. Everything is suddenly rather personal? It sounds quite selfish, I know, but this is how fast the world is running. This has left me with two recurring thoughts-

1. Why is everything like a war of “who is the asshole this week”? Because we have no idea why we’re constantly fighting, and as soon as we see each other, we melt into each other’s arms and kiss and it’s all okay apparently. What are we really mad about all the time? We’re just scared to be apart, scared to miss out on lives, scared that there will be a part of the other person we don’t know. Scared that one day we will come back and not fit in anymore.

2. We want friendships that are more meaningful. Friendships that understand and grow. Lately, everyone is just hanging out with no connections, it sometimes feels just easier to share with a stranger. So we overshare our traumas and pour everything out, on Bumble, on Clubhouse or on Twitter. But will you really have this person as your bridesmaid/best person? The answer might lie between a “probably not” or a “maybe yes”.

When I was younger, I didn't know how to differentiate between acquaintances and the people I loved. I thought everyone was my friend because I was trying so hard to escape that feeling of loneliness. Eventually, I made peace with it. It’s just a part of who I am. Only then was I able to find my tribe. So on days like today, I am incredibly grateful for the girls in my life (even though we have turned into relatives from dad's side of the family >_<).

Allow me to let you in on a secret; the aforementioned girlfriends aren’t even going to read this. Despite countless threats, innumerable requests and incalculable blackmailing attempts, these friends of mine have failed to read even half a sentence of anything I write. In a way, it would be fair to consider this newsletter a bait which (hopefully) lures them in.

Anyways, you’re my friends now, and from now on I will share everything on my mind with you!!! (and I hope you share it with your friends too)

LINKS THAT I’LL WHATSAPP YOU IF WE WERE FRIENDS : 

1)A Crane wife

2)A letter to my dog

3) Dinner Table Conversations

Until next time,

Janhavi

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