LOL: Life Of Leo

Image Source I'm shamelessly borrowing this title from Sally Rooney's debut novel, but I couldn't think of anything else. Also, nothing else would make sense. As much as I've loved all her other books, ' Conversations With Friends ' has been my least favorite. Before I delve too much into the book, let me get started on the actual post. There’s a funny thing that happens as you grow older: your friend circle starts shrinking. Almost like a pair of jeans you completely trusted in your twenties. One day you wake up and realize you don’t have the crowd you once had, and surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt. In fact, it feels lighter. Somewhere between changing jobs, moving countries, heartbreaks, promotions, breakdowns, breakthroughs, marriage, parenting and adulting in general, you realize that friendship was never meant to be a numbers game. Quality really does beat quantity, every single time. There’s a special kind of magic, let’s be honest, in girl friendships. The k...

Image Source For me, infidelity is a deal-breaker, no doubt about it. It is the ultimate form of disrespect. I've had my share of relationships in the past and I'm glad that I did not have to go through this. I did not cheat, nor was I cheated on. Something I'd like to thank my exes for. Had I been cheated on, it would have broken me completely. It would have shattered my self-respect, my confidence and my very belief in love. It would have made me cynical and I'm not sure if I would have been able to get over it and move on. Although I haven't gone through it, I've witnessed it closely around me more than a couple of times. It is destructive, to say the least.  Infidelity isn’t only about bodies; it’s about trust, integrity, emotional survival. People often try to categorize it as just physical, just emotional, just mental; they speak of open relationships, grey areas, complicated circumstances. The language shifts. The context morphs. But the bottom line remai...

Image Source If you thought 2025 would be the year we finally retired the tired gender clichés; men as clueless oafs and women as nagging perfectionists, you probably didn’t watch the latest episode of 'Two Much with Kajol and Twinkle' on Amazon Prime. The guests? Akshay Kumar and Saif Ali Khan. Amazing men, but the conversation? Somewhere between a marital advice column from 1982 and a stand-up routine that refused to end. The women, both fabulous and ferociously independent in real life, decided to announce that men only need two phrases in their vocabulary: “I’m sorry” and “You’re right.” (Or as Kajol put it, “You are tight,” which, honestly, deserves its own Freudian analysis.)

Image Source Bangalore, the city of my birth and countless memories, was once the reigning champion of urban allure. A place where every street, every corner, was stitched seamlessly into the fabric of my childhood. Back then, simply saying one was from Bangalore seemed like a badge of honor: an unspoken declaration of sophistication, warmth, and unbeatable weather. It’s impossible to forget the gentle breeze that greeted me each morning and the canopy of trees hiding shy rays of sun, making every day feel like spring’s dainty encore. Where else could you enjoy a walk at noon without sweat clinging desperately to your brow? I recall wearing sweaters to school, even during summer. Bangalore was literally 'cool' back then.

Image Source Here’s the thing: I love a strong female character. In fact, I thrive on them. Give me Ripley fighting xenomorphs, Furiosa steering that war rig through the wasteland, or even Lizzie Bennet verbally dismantling Mr. Darcy before she falls for him; I’m here for all of it. What I cannot get behind is the constant, almost desperate trend of gender-bending characters who were never meant to be women just for the sake of calling it “progress.” Turning James Bond into Jane Bond or Lord Voldemort into Lady Voldemort isn’t feminism, it’s laziness disguised as creativity. It’s like putting lipstick on a franchise and hoping we won’t notice it’s the same old story with a different pronoun.

Image Source September feels like the universe’s reset button. For some reason, I associate September with the beginning of the end of the year. It’s not summer anymore and it’s not winter yet, the rains make an appearance here and there, making one more pensive. As it just precedes my birthday month, it also asks the big question: So… what are you still clinging to, and why? The air is cooler, the trees are casually letting go of their leaves like they’re above drama, and I find myself staring at my own mental closet thinking, "Should I finally declutter this emotional chaos?"

Image Source Another birthday just passed, and as always, I found myself looking back as much as looking forward. Birthdays have a way of doing that; pulling you into a quiet, uninvited audit of your life. This year, though, I noticed something different. The reflection wasn’t weighed down by regrets or a running list of what-ifs. Instead, I saw the bigger picture: the lessons, the patterns, and the quiet ways in which I’ve grown emotionally. Maybe that’s what maturity is, when your past doesn’t sting the way it used to because you’ve finally made peace with the person you once were.

AI Generated Image There’s a quiet, beautiful kind of heroism in those who refill the coffee pot. Or the kaapi filter, for us South Indians. Or the Moka pot, for fancy coffee enthusiasts. Although the title suggests this, trust me, this post is not about coffee. It is about people. You know the type, those rare angels who, upon taking the last sip, pause, rinse, and refill so the next caffeine-deprived soul doesn’t suffer the heartbreak of an empty pot. It seems small, almost trivial, but to me, it’s a gesture that represents something bigger: the philosophy of “Make it easy for the next person”, something I firmly believe in. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately - how the people I admire most, both in my life and in the world, are the ones who turn around and smooth the road for the person behind them, instead of walking away like it’s not their problem.

While I was in Japan this April, everything seemed to align perfectly - the weather, the blossoms, the rhythm of the days. For two full weeks, we traveled across cities and countryside, and the skies remained consistently clear and bright. Ironically, on the one day we had set aside to visit Mount Fuji, the weather turned. It rained steadily, and thick clouds rolled in, obscuring every viewpoint where Fujisan is usually seen in all her glory.