“Din bhar phone ghurne se career banega kya?” – Father’s voice broke the silence like a badly timed WhatsApp notification — sharp, sudden, and completely uncalled for.
It was just another slow morning in my hometown — one of those places tucked between sleepy hills and winding rivers, where time moves like an old man with a stick, stopping every few steps to stare at the sky (probably wondering where he left his spectacles). The kind of place where nothing really changes… but somehow, everything feels heavier with time. Like those unread WhatsApp messages from relatives you never replied to — and now it’s too late to open them without guilt.
That morning, the mountains stood still — almost suspiciously quiet. Like they were watching me, waiting for something to shift. Maybe just waiting for the sun to finally commit to showing up.
I sat on the rooftop, barefoot and blank, watching the mist wrap around trees like secrets too old to speak… or maybe just too damp to travel. The sky was the same pale grey it had been for a hundred mornings. Peaceful? Yes. But also unsettling — the kind of silence where your brain decides it’s time for a full-blown internal TED Talk, with background noise set to emotional overthink rock.
I had everything a quiet life offers — air that smelled like mitti after rain (and occasionally cow dung, let’s be honest), time that didn’t rush (it dawdled), and a view worth a thousand deep breaths (and at least one good filter). But inside, it felt like I was missing a train I didn’t even know existed. Something had already left… and I was still standing there, probably still looking for my chappals.
I’m 29. BTech in Computer Science. No job. No startup. No six-figure salary or viral hashtag.
Just… me. Sitting in a small town with big thoughts and a Wi-Fi connection that works only when it feels like it. This blog isn’t a guide to success. I’m not here to give life lessons or motivational quotes you’ll forget in five minutes.
This is just… the version of me that I can’t explain out loud. The one filled with mistakes, awkward pauses, weird daydreams, and endless “what ifs.”
Maybe no one will get it.
But maybe, someone will.
Not My Name, But My Story (The Unfiltered Version)
I won’t tell you my name. Not because I’m trying to be mysterious (though honestly, mystery makes everything 20% cooler), but because this isn’t about who I am. It’s about what I’ve carried — silently, awkwardly, like that extra bag relatives give you at the station: heavy, unnecessary, but somehow still your responsibility.
I come from a small Indian city — the kind where people will ask “Shaadi kab kar rahe ho?” or “Kya karte ho?” before they ever ask how you’re actually doing. Where dreams come in only three flavors: doctor, engineer, or failure. And where “log kya kahenge” plays in the background like a never-ending remix nobody asked for.
I was the “good student.” Top 5 in class. Didn’t bunk, didn’t argue, got called “shaant ladka.” But real life? Entrance exams? Career choices? That’s where the story started glitching.
Not for lack of trying — I did try. Padhai, coaching, sleepless nights, enough chai to start my own franchise. But then came family drama (like a daily soap with no skip intro button), money issues (hello, Maggi budgeting), and the general chaos of trying to find your path when the map is upside down.
The Lonely Road of the “Almost”
“Almost” became my signature move.
Almost cracked it.
Almost made it.
Almost became something.
Almost — the most loyal friend failure ever gave me.
Not saying this for sympathy — although kabhi kabhi rona bhi zaroori hota hai, preferably with a pillow and a full Bollywood score in the background. I’m just saying what’s real.
Most people think I’m doing okay. I smile, I reply to DMs, I share memes. But inside?
Bas… “thik hi hai” ka slightly upgraded version.
Half stable. Half confused. Fully functional… kinda.
What Led Me to Start This Blog
I didn’t start this blog because I have wisdom. Bhai, mujhe toh kal ka breakfast bhi time pe banana mushkil hota hai.
I started it because I needed a place to dump all the things I’ve never said out loud — without someone replying, “Shaadi kab kar raha hai?” or “Job mila?”
Here, everything gets a spot — the regrets (collected like Pokémon), the overthinking (Olympic-level), the awkward wins (like surviving a phone call without panicking), and the occasional sparkle of hope (usually followed by chai).
I don’t have a plan. I barely have clean socks. But if you’ve ever felt like everyone else got the manual for life and you’re just freestyling — welcome to the club. Grab a seat. We cry and laugh here. Often at the same time.
“Starting a blog instead of therapy because suffering in HD feels more productive.”
Just Getting Started (Brace Yourselves)
This isn’t a success story.
This is the loading screen version. The awkward, messy, funny, painfully honest documentary of a life still figuring itself out.
I don’t know where this is going. But I’m finally ready to share it.
So buckle up — there will be plot twists, unexpected characters, and the occasional existential crisis (or two, depending on the Wi-Fi speed).
And if nothing else, maybe you’ll feel less alone.
Or at least smile at someone else’s madness for a change.
Stay in Touch (Because Therapy is Expensive) – If this made you smile, nod, or feel seen in any way, don’t be a stranger.
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