Rantings of the mind

Friendship in college is not the same as the friendships we had in school. In school, we never really spent much time with our friends. We were mostly focused on our studies. In many cases, we didn’t even know much about each other’s families. Yet somehow, we’d still find two or three genuine friends—people who truly wanted to know us and sincerely wished for our well-being. But when we enter college, the atmosphere is entirely different. We start learning more about life than the subjects taught by our professors. We learn about society, how the world works, and the struggles each person must endure just to survive. We come across people who smile in front of us but speak poorly behind our backs. After all that emotional effort, we might find someone we consider a good friend—only to realize that they are also close to the very people who talk behind our backs. Worse, they only seem to reach out when they need something. And that makes us question: What’s the point of friendship if so...

ஆழ்ந்த நித்திரையில் இருந்தேன். நள்ளிரவு வேளை அது. கனவு ஒன்றைக் கண்டேன். தொடக்கம் இனிதாக இருந்ததால் மகிழ்ந்தேன். ஆனால், இறுதியில் மூச்சு நின்றது போன்று துடிதுடித்து விட்டேன். கண்களை மூடியபடியே அழுதுகொண்டிருந்தேன். தாரைதாரையாக கண்களில் இருந்து கண்ணீர் வழிந்தோடியது. எனது கனவில் கண்ட காட்சிகள் பின்வருமாறு: “எனது நண்பர்கள் யாவரும் என்னை வெறுத்து ஒதுக்கி விட்டு துன்புறுத்தினர். என் பொம்மைகளைப் பிடுங்கினர். எனது புத்தகங்களை கிழித்தனர்." நீங்கள் எண்ணுவது சரிதான், நான் எனது பள்ளிக்கூடப் பருவத்தில் இருந்தேன். சரி, கனவைத் தொடர்வோம்.   "நான் அழுதுகொண்டிருந்தேன், எனது வகுப்பறையில். ஆறுதல் சொல்ல யாருமின்றி தனியாக அலறினேன்; கூச்சலிட்டேன். வீட்டிற்கு வந்து அழுதுகொண்டே படுத்துவிட்டேன். பள்ளியை விட்டு வரும் வழியில் அப்பா வாங்கிக் கொடுத்த பஞ்சு மிட்டாயும் இனிப்பாக தெரியவில்லை. திடுக்கென கனவிலிருந்து எழுந்தேன். கண்ட காட்சிகளின் கொடூரத்தை, மனதின் பயத்தை நீக்கும்படி நல்ல கனவு ஒன்று வேண்டும் என்று இறைவனை வேண்டினேன். அழுதவாறே மீண்டும் நித்திரையில் ஆழ்ந்தேன்.இம்முறை வந்த கனவானது முன்னர் கண்ட கனவின் த...

 For days, our conversations existed only through the glow of the screens—words typed in haste, emotions lost in translation. Misunderstandings layered upon misunderstandings, each message sent with the hope of resolution but received with unintended sharpness. It was easier this way, safer even, to let the words be filtered by the distance of text.   But the silence and avoidance was too much for me to handle.  When I finally decided to speak—not through messages, not behind the veil of a screen, but face to face—she listened. There was hesitation and confusion, an unease born from the comfort of the digital exchanges. Yet, as I spoke, there was a tremor of emotions that no text could ever convey.   And then, I told her about the days when our quarrel lingered like a shadow over me, about the hurt I felt in the absence of true confrontation. About the moments when I wondered if our connection was slipping away, thread by fragile thread. She listened withou...

Pets. Just thinking about them takes me back to my school days—the time when our home was filled with the presence of dogs, cats, and even a few finches. They weren’t just animals to me; they were my silent companions, my comfort, my safe space.  Cats at home Whenever I was sad, I’d talk to them. I’d cry in front of them, letting my heart spill out in ways I couldn’t with people. Not because my parents didn’t care—they did—but sometimes, they just couldn’t understand. More often than not, they misunderstood me. And that misunderstanding turned into frustration, anger, and sadness. But my pets? They simply listened in their own way—by looking into my eyes, by curling up next to me, by just being there.   After school, life changed. I moved to Chennai for college, and with that, I left behind the warmth of having a pet at home. Since then, I’ve found it hard to truly open up to people. Even when I have something to say, I hold back. I stay silent (exceptions are a few inclu...

Am I annoying? Am I too loud? Do I stand out too much in the crowd? Am I disturbing? Do I intrude? Do my words come off as rude? Am I hurting? Am I wierd? Do they wish I wasn't there? Am I enough, or just a mistake? A troublemaker, hard to take? Do they listen? Do they care? Or just pretend that I’m not there? Do they judge me when I speak? Do they think that I am stupid? Am I awkward? Do I bore? Should I stay or leave the place? Do they laugh when I’m away? Wish that I would never stay? These questions echo in my mind, Answers I may never find. A restless mind that craves some peace .

 The favourite passing cloud, The favourite one to blame, The favourite one ignored, The favourite one left alone— Even when she's not at fault. "You know a lot of people." Yeah… yeah, she does. But only to keep loneliness at bay, To avoid feeling left out in a crowded room. At the end of the day, Everyone cares—about others, about feelings. But no one cares about her, The most favourite, The most forgotten. I don't really know why I wrote this today.. But yeah... Felt like writing this...