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The year ends quietly, not with fireworks, but with you sitting somewhere familiar, scrolling through memories you did not ask to revisit. A photo. A song. A sentence you once wrote when you were sure you were becoming someone else. You thought you would feel different by now. More certain. More settled. Less tired. Yet here you are, standing at the edge of another beginning, still carrying questions you have learned to live with. This year asked a lot of you. It asked you to

In pursuit of love, you do not just chase a person. You chase their childhood. You look for the places they were hurt, hoping that if you understand the wound, you will understand them. You convince yourself that love is learning how someone broke and choosing to stay anyway. No one tells you this when you are younger. They just tell you that love should feel natural, effortless, destined. But what you learn instead is that love is curiosity. It is patience. It is sitting wit

i can still feel your kaleidoscopic eyes on me. after all, it was me who made the mistake of meeting them. under the dining table lights, those golden freckles, framed by lashes that looked too perfect to be real, undressing me. four walls, a mattress, and us eating out of takeout boxes. sharing songs, laughing at things that only made sense to us. every time i pass that park, nostalgia hits me hard. where are you now though? sometimes i wonder if you ever think of me. not th

I am about to step into my late twenties, and everyone around me talks about this age like it is some kind of checkpoint. A point where you are supposed to have answers. Stability. A partner. A plan. Something to show for all the years you have lived. And in a way, I do. I look at my life and I know I have done well. I worked hard. I survived things people will never know about. I built myself from scraps and silence and late nights where I almost gave up. Professionally, I h

When the quiet settles in, it feels like someone has turned off the whole world and left me alone with the echo of my own thoughts. I sit there, backed up against a wall, replaying everything I thought I had figured out. It always starts the same way. A small question, a faint ache, the soft sting of something I still have not made peace with. And suddenly I am wondering what happened to me. When did things start slipping through my hands. When did I start slipping from mysel

there comes a point when you stop waiting for something to return. not out of anger, not even out of acceptance, but out of quiet exhaustion. you just get tired of standing at the same emotional doorway, hoping a familiar knock will sound again. we grow up believing every ending deserves closure. that people who leave will one day circle back with apologies and explanations neat enough to fold away the ache. but the truth is, some stories end mid sentence, and that’s all they

You, with your russet hair, curls of glistening bronze fluttering in the Maldivian wind. I can still see them, the way they framed your...

There comes a time when you realise that life has always been quietly teaching you. Not in sudden revelations, but in the slow passing of...

Someone once asked me, “Who do you want to be when you grow up?” At that time my head was crowded with answers. I wanted to help those in...

We met in silence, during the world’s loudest storm, When streets were empty, and touch was foreign, Only voices flickered through...

I was seventeen, only a few days from turning eighteen, sitting in the corner of a twelve by twelve room on the island where I was born....