on the eleventh of March this year, i turned 22!

if i had to be incredibly honest here –  i turned 22 with fresh dark violet hair, sipping on a gin and tonic at The Great Escape at The Projector looking out at the rather average view from what is essentially a makeshift parking lot with someone i’d met only the week before. this person was the first one to wish me happy birthday, and i remember thinking to myself amusedly – this is how little i care for birthdays now. i mean, who spends their birthday with a person who was (still) navigating between the ambiguous coalescence of stranger and friend?

awhile later, the messages from my dearest friends and family streamed in, and i let myself feel a little warm inside. i went home that night feeling strangely calm with the knowledge that birthdays and occasions as such were all nominal, and that was that. i was happy spending time with one of my best friends the day before, and had a modest party my family was going to throw for me on the day of my birthday.

i turned 22 not expecting anything else. life was kind to me thus far. and… so it goes, as life always does. it follows its intended trajectory, taking me through the most difficult semester ever (and this ends tomorrow with my final paper i’m growing increasingly acquiescent to study for), bringing new happy elements of surprises – my one year in Stockholm seems good to go from August thereafter, i got the summer internship placement i’d always wanted, and somehow the pseudo friend-stranger turned into someone i truly and deeply cared about.

i guess… these are some funny things that happen when you turn 22.

glad i got to spend your birthday with you, too 
set in motion :~)



January 2018

haven’t been in this space for awhile, and i guess it’s because i’m feeling increasingly reluctant to share my thoughts on a space so public, but maybe it’s also because i find myself (gradually) being harder to understand and read, more so than usual

ah of course, the ever perennial millennial indulgence of not being able to understand oneself

but truth be told… it scares me. not being able to understand my own underlying motivations, why i do the things i do, why i want the things i want. i feel like the past 2-3 months have been life changing, enlightening. but not in any grandiose way that points me to a singular reason – but in small, gradual doses coalescing into a strange disparate whole… oxymoronic as it is. i haven’t been thinking properly about me. i haven’t been reflecting. the whole semester + winter passed by in a blur, and mentally i’m still trying to play catch up.

to recap y2s1: it was good. good academia-wise – i took interesting mods, met great people in my classes, and did quite well in the end for my standards despite being real busy with hall. i got the internship programme placement i’ve always wanted, and will be heading to stockholm for a year next semester if all things pan out well! i learned cool things about business, consulting, leadership. i felt kickass and super motivated. i met great people, had the best conversations, had a lot of kronenbourg blanc. usually at the same time. a huge theme over the semester + winter was the realisation that i was no longer who i was, and i’m not exactly sure if it remains a good thing, or not. people wouldn’t believe it, but i am naturally quite shy (i can see my friends rolling their eyes) though i am pretty outgoing, butttt honestly going out on most days mingling with people isn’t a thing i would usually do. but this sem showed me that i could, and on good days i genuinely enjoyed it.

though i feel now it has reached a peak, and right now i’m just extremely tired.

i think it was the semester that i forced myself to try new things, be open to new things, and withhold judgement over the things i deem to be irrevocably black and white. to be present – do now, think later. not the best sagely advice, but i can’t say that it wasn’t fun. i was never really this adventurous, and on my end it really scared me because i felt that i was becoming a person i didn’t recognise – not saying that it was a bad thing per se, but i felt myself losing an anchor that i always relied upon, and i’m not sure if i want it back.

y2s2? i feel so confused. i’m trying to get ahold of my bearings and my motivation, but as with all things it takes time to come to terms with the changes and the drifting and the constant

now i feel quite lost, i must say. i’ve lost the touch for writing, reading, running… things that have always sustained me no matter the seasons. i’ll slowly try to get these back and build myself up again…! i’m never at the stage where i can safely say that i’m the person i really want to be, but at the very least, i can say that i’m trying. and i suppose that counts for a lot

that being said, i’m still incredibly grateful for the things i have and the people i love. people who come into my life with no judgement but a keen sense of understanding, tolerance, love. accepting me the way i (was) and loving me the way i am. i’ve read somewhere that love is nothing but steadfast & constant, and i do hope to cultivate that sort of love with all whom i love.


A wave tossed in the ocean


Today is strangely & ostensibly the day I caught the blues after numerous weeks of calm and contentment and joyfulness – and while I thought I was secure in the knowledge that my happiness came from within, it just took a few damning (& unwarranted, & unjustified) thoughts in the middle of the night to tear down this gleaming façade (?) of joy again. And that made me question… what is the source of this joy? What is the root of my cheeriness and my smiles? And why can it be torn down so easily?

I know more than anyone else my motivations, what I desire in my life, and what I yearn for. At the same time I know what my failures and flaws and regrets are, and how shameful I find some of them to be, and how I try to hide them away from the faces of the world

But do these things make me who I am – who am I? an individual, independent, bubbly, cheerful, yet mellow and too-quiet at important times of the day. Someone who desires the bigger, better things life has to offer, but also finds comfort in the simple, the still, the constant.

In my personal search for myself & in my journey of a bildungsroman over the years, I have never came to a single conclusion – I am, I am, I am, and I am always changing and changing and sometimes when I think about vestiges of my old self I can never be fully sure that it is who I was

Who am I, that the bright and morning star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart?

A single thing has always remained constant through the years, the struggles, the heartbreaks, the painful notion of having to pick myself up again & again and swallowing my thoughts and emotions for the strength to carry on, to be let down & disappointed by my own sky-high expectations, to give chances to the wrong people, to let myself down again & again… and that is You. I am undeserving, so so so flawed, so temporal, so fleeting, a wanderer in Your kingdom, but I always find myself going back to this golden relationship that is quite simply Ours. Amidst these things that make me blue I am still incredibly blessed and grateful for the big and the little things that make such an irrevocable difference. I will always be brimming with gratitude.

I want to – through my life, through my work – seek to glorify You and Your kingdom.

I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still you hear me when I’m calling



T0 2016, with love


This annual reflection of-sorts has always been something I’ve looked forward to — I find that I’m the kind of person who forgets the in-betweens, the details, the intricate stitching of what gives the year its own brand of softness, of lightness, of love.

I’ve always said that 2016 wasn’t an easy year for me, but if I were to look at it in a different light… 2016 was indeed a glass half-filled, a glass full of potential and things on a clean slate and a palimpsest in which I could rewrite/overwrite my narrative of being twenty. Ultimately, it was a really good year of growing up, learning from myself and from the people around me who came, stayed & left —  and from books, and a wonderful time of big scary changes and the little things that made it what it was.

I’ve loved, lost, felt the immense effect of the slow disintegration of what felt like love and the subsequent convalescence (this word was indeed a recurring theme of my 2016); changed my goals and changed my schools and refocused on what I wanted to do in the future with still a singular shrug of “err I’m not too sure oops anything?”, been to conferences and met interesting people and formed new connections, changed to a university hall and got cast in a musical production that involved a collective 200+ people, sang and danced and acted on a stage, and studied a range of strange courses that had me look at life with a sort of naive brightness and felt myself change and change and drift with an amalgamation of the nostalgic past and present, and to this end, I am brimming with a soft contentment and happiness.

To me: stop chasing that all too elusive idea of happiness — as though happiness is an end goal to be met on the daily. Stop letting yourself be taken with what on the surface to be golden, bright and wonderful, and in the process neglect what makes you want to glow from the inside, and what makes you smile with a softness and authenticity and quietness. Stop trying to make yourself feel small and stop holding back from what you want. Stop trying to do everything even though you’re a huge proponent for leaning in, looking forward, and taking where the tide takes you — even if you feel immense pressure in trying to be perfect, trying to look the best, study the best, write the best, and be the best in absolutely everything… you just can’t have it all, and it’s okay, it is perfectly fine, and it is supposed to be.

Again, I have to stop living as though the highest point in my life can be found somewhere on the ephemeral horizon, and I have to stop living as though days are meant to be trudged through, and I have to learn to lean back and be still and be quiet and know that my control on the universe’s motion is negligible and yet important all at once. I can in fact live my life with a quiet consciousness where I can experience and share fully without excessive concern of what others may think, where I find fullness in reading strange & wonderful things, writing about myself & other people & running running running, building something I can call my own, and just let myself live without expectation, and let myself enjoy this whole growing up experience without making myself feel like I have to do something and be someone and prove myself worthy… because at the end of the sunset I am already someone, and as long as I put in quantifiable effort in the things that are precious and important to me… it is enough.

I am enough, and there is no more.


May 2017 be big and wonderful and unabashed for everyone. And may I study harder for both semesters and learn to love the pains & pleasure of project work, tutorials, and hall life. It’s been a great break, but it’s time to get back into the grind!