Syzygy

On Dreams These days I’ve been dreaming. I don’t usually dream, but I dreamt for two days, and now I’ve started wanting to dream because that’s the only time I feel like I’m not in actual reality. When I wake up, it feels like there’s nothing to look forward to, and then sleeping becomes the only thing I wait for. I know it’s extremely bad, but I’m not here to make a moral comment right now. If My life was actually tough, at least then I won’t sound fake. Because when I say it cannot be reality, it sounds as if I’m going through some mind-blowing problem, but these problems are so simple. So human. Everybody has them. There’s nothing extraordinary about my pain at all. Anyway, that is not the point I’m trying to make. I was trying to talk about my dreams. Two of them specifically. The first one was about a dog flu happening in my city. I can trace it back to reading about the Nipah virus spreading in Kerala, which I saw in the newspaper. And now that I say newspaper, I realise I’m ...

I tried my very best to make sense of the education system but just like my exams I failed. I am so liberated to leave this futile balderdash ball of nuisance and leave it behind. So happy to no more freting over changing exam patterns, checking the cbse website-a misery, my worst nightmare. The beautiful and easy to use interface reflects the entire education system- full of meaningless difficulty and unwanted complications. All it need was a web developer so easy, so easy to find because half of them are unemployed anyways. It is so crapy so much so that I sweat and take a moment to pray to God to give me strength enough to go through the website. I will love to not check and keep up with updates, date sheet, nonsense etc. Anyway I am going to copy my manual work from my friends manual which will take me around two movies in the background to complete . the fun part of the manual is that nobody actually ever reads it, certainly not me not my friend, not the teacher. It is just a guid...

Right now, in India you cannot listen to some of Talha Anjum’s song anymore. It’s such a trivial thing not being able to listen to Abdul Hannan or Umair’s songs in India right now post-Pahalgam. Most listeners were simply unaware of their favourite artist’s country of origin until they Lost being able to listen to them. With all the bigger, heavier things happening, it feels almost silly to complain about this. Is it really that far-fetched to trace it back to Partition? That one event drew a line so deep that even now, decades later, we feel it in the smallest ways, in music, in access, in silence. This is not about songs being unavailable. It's about how that old wound never really healed.   Partition is understood as a large political event, shaped by leaders like Nehru, Jinnah, and Gandhi, and marked by riots, refugee trains, and lines drawn on maps. These images are all part of the story, however what this essay want to explore is how partition affected not just politics but...

When I started debating, I noticed how male-dominated the space was. Debates would take the whole day, and I’d often reach home really late, sometimes 8 or 9 p.m. One time, it got so late that I wasn’t even sure I’d make it home on time. That feeling, not just being late but the fear and stress around it and how it would affected me getting permission for future tournaments.  What stayed with me was that only one senior female debater really got what I meant. She didn’t question it, didn’t downplay it, she just understood it wasn’t me being overdramatic.  Now I’m a senior. We had to travel to another state as judges, and one girl’s father insisted on coming with her. At first this request may seem bizarre to you. we were all university students! but I didn’t find it strange. I knew where it was coming from. I even spoke to him and assured him it would be fine. Funnily enough I’m still trying to convince my own father to let me go on the same trip. So, I’m in this in-between pl...