Welcome to my cozy corner of the Internet.
Where all things curly, twirly, fuzzy, and messy collide to make me.
Currently fixated on molecules and atoms… bonds, chain reactions, and Chemistry.
(Not the Breaking Bad kind — though I did love the series, as an aside.)
More into upper-cutting archetypes.
(I did train to be a boxer many moons ago.)
Forever seeking the perfect pH balance in everything.
No Aunty Acid. No Tarty Martini.
Just nice... enough.
These are my stories —
of overcoming doubts, trampling fears,
and juggling the many hats I wear:
Business founder. Mother.
Mad hatter. Me.
Rain day rant about potholes, mini ponds, and an SUV that thinks it's Hulk Hogan. City driving. Urban dystopia.
Dog drama and HIIT on a bluesy Monday evening.
An buttery epiphany -A flaky pasrty being a metaphor for living in the moment.
Writing that wamr. Stories that make you smile. Soul to soul, from me to you.
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Why I write
Writing is therapy. Thinking is a luxury.
When your head is buzzing with stories, words, and alphabets — you make extraordinary out of the mudane..
It becomes a space that lights a spark in you.
This has been a long time coming.
Blame it on time… or just good old procrastination.
To all the well-wishers wondering, “Why now?”
No — this isn’t an existential crisis.
It’s not anxiety-induced.
It’s not a meltdown.
And if Judgment Day ever dawns… I’ll bring more coffee.
Absolute zero — atoms in perfect motion.
This is my narrative.
The protons, neutrons, and electrons —
lighting up every word.
It feels like coming home.
To love. To acceptance.
To old friendships… and to dosa, coffee, and croissants.
Much love. And godspeed.
Latest Posts
Finding My Schrödinger’s Cat
Chemistry. Physics. Surface tension.
Mass. Force. Cationic (not catatonic).
My science teacher would have been happy —
For the lotus has finally bloomed into science
and not commerce (a very Indian thing).
I am both
positively and negatively charged.
A pink linen-shirt-and-blue-jeans minion,
dog hair accessorised,
looking for bonds
that are balanced, funny,
and… maybe boisterous.
Quirky stories,
healthy skepticism,
a pinch of fatalism,
and just enough realism to ask:
Was there a cat in the first place?
I float from the pothole to philosophy,
dance on the periphery of lived reality
mew out quantum meanings
and seek chemical reactions
in my world —
filled with dust motes dancing in the sunlight,
seeking to splice the silence from the noise,
connecting the dots and the lines
so that no one can quite purr the same.
