Hi!

I am starting to write this at 7:33 AM in the rikshaw on my way to Saki Naka Metro. It’s just 10 minutes away from home if I leave REALLY early. I’m okay with that. It’s motivation for not snoozing through the morning.

I’ve started writing in chunks and free pockets. Which means most of this writing has to be done on the phone. For some reason, writing always felt like a laptop thing – till it didn’t. Why do I build up random, non-existent constraints for things?

Plus, in Prak’s session we talked about how writing on different devices would make the work come out differently. Phones would me text-a-friend-y. Laptops would be email-y. Etc.

Side-note: The metro is running at 8 minute intervals right now. Yuck.

Nights

My most “breathe free” memory from my childhood have been the nights. One particular kind of nights. I’d stay up late scrolling Instagram or watching Hallmark movies onYouTube and texting some boy who’d give me the butterflies. I’d pop open a bottle ✨ coke ✨ and hog on the BIG Kurkure packets I’d have hidden in the night.

The temperature would’ve fallen down in the night. No AC, windows open, just a fan. Peace.

That was my dream time. I could land on all kinds of dream-lives on the internet and was absolutely determined I could have it all. That I was made to have it all. Nothing scared me. No one scared me. No limits. No what ifs. Just a really, really good vibe.

Today is a similar night. All details are different but I feel the same. No worries and very hopeful. Fueled by my determination. I love these nights. They’re my youth.

Side-note: I also feel some degree of this while driving and while skating. I guess it’s just the nice wind that I can control in all these cases. Idk.

The DD <> P3 Anthology

In March we sat down and planned an anthology by Decoding Draupadi and Purple Pencil Project. And it was the coolest thing ever. As a very teeny tiny kid, my biggest dream was putting my name on a book. Writing one, actually. And I always thought just thinking enough things to fill up would be the work of a lifetime. But then, I was a KID kid.

I even tried writing one at 17. I was freaked out by the largeness of it. All people I could put in it. All the tiny details. All the many-many little things that could make it or break it. Once again, I was a KID kid. So I buddy-d up with a friend. We worked on regularly for 30 days and then in parts and breaks for the next 3 months and then “life” took over. I do wish to complete it sometime. Even if it’s real trashy. I still think it was on its way to become something really interesting. So that.

In the first week of writing the book, I made a cover for it. I will use it. Someday. Soon enough.

After 17, I came back to books with this anthology. I was, once again, jumpy about the cover and the ✨ vibes ✨ I wanted it to have.

Today I sat down to decide a cover zone and the name. And boy did I have fun. Thinking about it. Planning about it. And this was funner than the first time I started doing in my March spurt because – I thought of it as what would I – Anshika, the book-cover judger, vibey book hoarder – want to see and buy? I literally thought of it as a book FOR ME. And no one else. The tinkering was fun. I have a name in mind. I have a visual-language I feel strongly about.

And even if we choose to not go with either, it was an absolute joy thinking about it.

Appear-ism

So I’ve seen this happen in my college. There is this kid in class who doesn’t look, dress, act the fanciest. Not the sharpest mind. Not the most anything. Doesn’t mingle at all. Sits next to me most of the time. We only chat for homework-help. On days I am feeling extra fun and trouble-y I dig deeper into their day and their general life.

They don’t have any friends in class. Or anyone they talk to. Which was okay.

But today, I GOT ANGRY. We needed to make groups for an assignment and they didn’t get picked. When they reached out to the groups with empty slots, people were ACTUAL mean to them. They rejected – fine. But do it politely. They didn’t do a thing wrong. GROW UP??

And I realised it was only so because they weren’t like the others. In any way. And these kids were super not ready to ready to give her a comfortable space to just be.

How hard could it be? And what kind of people will they end up becoming?

Anyhow, I used my Class Rep powers (:p) to help fix it for the kid. But this is shameful, really.

The smartest 22yo

On Aug 5 this year, I tweeted this:

I WANT TO BE THE COOLEST 22yo THAT EXISTS WHEN I TURN 22. WUEHVDHEHEHEHEUWHE.

@akforthevibe, Twitter/X

Today I just want to tweak it to the smartest. And sure that’s tall claim. Insanely hard. More impossible. But do you get what I mean? From 05/23 to 05/24, I want to have grown MASSIVELY.

Claiming big dreams is never a struggle. But with this, I don’t know how I am going to do. What do I do more of? What do I do less of? How do I know if I am on right or wrong path? Will I ever know? All that.

Where this came from: I saw someone making some illustrations for The Cereal Club and the work was really cool and super fan-girl-ed. But it also pinched that I could not do it. But fin. I just want to be really good. IDK HOW. UEHFD4EUNC.\

HIGH CHAIRS ARE SUCH A DAY-MARE

Sometimes I am just sitting on one and it strikes that I am extra degree of swing away from tipping over backwards and cracking my head open.

The worry comes and goes. But very scary.

Be careful, ya’ll!