Insomniac Thoughts

Hello, readers.  Everyday feels messed up but a blessing at the same time. Is this just me, or you feel the same too?  Anyway, stick to your intentions and thoughts, no matter how scattered they are. We tend to find pieces of peace more in little fragments of reality afterall.  For the poem I took inspiration from a web novel. I'm still reading it but the words of the author had a great impact on me and I couldn't stop pouring my thoughts on the Samsung Notes page. 😄 Share your thoughts in the comment section.  Wishing you a deserving and self-reflexive day ahead. 

  HOPE A poison the heart willingly feasts on, Worshipping the mythical light, an insane lovelorn, A demand so out of reach, yet still beseeched, The vulnerable heart stays adamant, helplessly bewitched.  Through and through the mind sings its quasi legacy, Moving on its path with staunch hypocrisy, Dwelling on the details having no solid roots, Clueless mind gorging on its tasteless fruits.  The weight of years, a chain of rust, Each linking a moment with a fragile trust, In the path darkness draws, hard and cold, A sunbeam waits for her to hold.  A glimmer of light, thin and frail, Just enough for the belief to set the sail, A sudden warmth, a spark of thrill, Urging to climb the unending hill.  "Is this really happening?" Ponders the moody mind, Knowing the warmth of light, a loyal foe of humankind, Plants a seedling full of plausible dreams, Only to leave behind a tree of broken screams. As if on cue, the light recedes from view, A delusion in disguise, an e...

Hello, buddies. Monday - officially declared as a 'machines-over-mind' day. But some of us start like the frozen engine of a vehicle, wearing mismatched attire with a half of piece bread stuck in mouth (probably expired but who cares, it’s a MONDAY!), standing in a crowded bus which stinks worse than a garbage tin, and the rest of bad luck is history. Trust me, it's okay. No one gives a shit about the Sunday night's hangover, or worse, the Sunday scenario in a joint family (a nightmare for introverts), or the whole week's stress hitting with a bad fever or cold (of course, bacteria and virus too need attention). For some, even Sunday is a working day. Interns feel like the only day which was meant for waking up late and just exist as a normal human, vanishes overnight. I don't even want to start about hospital staffs, that's a solid 'uno-reverse' reflecting Hitler's time.  If a person is this much under the water on a Sunday and the boss expects ...

Being consistent is a stress indeed. Yet, the fun lies in the process too. Hello, readers. Another day, another rant—just my way of making peace with myself. Sometimes, I really ask myself, “How much optimism is too much?” or “Is my optimistic nature just a façade to hide my insecurities and fragmented self?” To the first one: who cares? Optimism has never really harmed me. And to the second... umm, maybe not always. Whenever I fall into a phase that pulls me into a seemingly endless spiral of chaos and hopelessness, I try to find reasons to pull myself out of it. One of those reasons is listening to other people’s perspectives. I believe if I just sit and endlessly ponder over a problem, it only leads to more confusion and frustration. Instead, taking a little break from my usual train of thought helps me view the issue from a different angle. Honestly, the best solution sometimes? Just take a nap and forget about it for a while. The brain needs fuel to handle this nonstop flow of ...

Hello, readers. This is my first-ever blog post. It may not be the most helpful thing you’ve read today, but I hope it leaves you feeling a little lighter, emotionally. My only intention in writing this is to express thoughts that often remain unspoken — the ones we’re afraid to share for fear of being judged. If this post gets you to pause and think differently, even for a moment, then I’ve done what I set out to do. Let me start with a little about myself. My name is Madhulika. I hold a bachelor’s and a master’s degree in English Literature, and right now, I’m unemployed. Most of my days are spent reading — novels, articles, blog posts, or anything that catches my eye. I also dance a lot. It’s my therapy. Whether I’m happy, sad, or just overwhelmed by adulthood, dancing helps me feel grounded again. Growing up, I was pampered — maybe a little too much. While that gave me a safe and loving environment, it also planted seeds of self-doubt. I struggled to make decisions for myself, ofte...