Pages from My Diary of Life

  Falling in Love With the Jail We Once Hated 🏫 It’s strange how time plays tricks on memory... Two years ago, the last school bell rang and all we could feel was freedom 🎉 No more uniforms. No more homework. No more teachers calling our names when we were clearly not paying attention. We walked out of those gates feeling like prisoners finally released from jail 🚪 And yet… here we are now, missing the very place we couldn’t wait to escape. Whenever I pass by my school today, something inside me pauses. The building hasn’t changed much. The same walls, the same playground, the same windows. But the sound—oh, the sound—feels different now. I can almost hear the chaos echoing through the corridors 🔊 “Teacher, I didn’t do my homework!” “Ma’am, he started it!” “Sir, can we go to the washroom?” Back then, those were everyday noises. Background music we barely noticed. Today, they feel like memories knocking on the door 🚶‍♂️ We used to call school a jail ⛓️ Every morning felt like a...

  Welcome on board 😭🤝 You’ve officially joined the “I wrote 3 paragraphs and got a 👍” support group. Membership perks include: Overthinking the word “ok” Reading a one-word reply like it’s a hidden messag. Pretending you’re fine after receiving “lol” But real talk—you’re right. Let’s stay the way we are.😁😎 Being expressive isn’t a bug in the system, it’s the whole point of the system. The world doesn’t need everyone texting like customer service bots. Some people are “👍”, some people are “say less,” and then there’s us writing paragraphs like we’re trying to win an invisible literature award. And yeah, sometimes it hits a little when your effort gets met with minimal energy. But that doesn’t downgrade your effort—it just exposes who’s matching your wavelength and who isn’t. Be expressive, be real, but be selective. Your energy is not a public resource. Give it to people who actually read past the first line. People will come and go, opinions will change, and trends wi...

It was a normal morning assembly. Or at least… it pretended to be normal. The principal started her speech—long, serious, full of moral values. The kind of speech where even the school flag looks emotionally exhausted. We were standing there like disciplined statues… except mentally everyone had already left the campus. Then it happened. Someone in our line whispered: “Bro… what if we clap after every line?” 🎭 THE CLAPPING INCIDENT BEGINS Principal: “Students, discipline is very important in life—” Us: 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏 Back row guy: “WOOOOO MA’AM 🔥🔥 GIVE MOTIVATION!” Principal: “You must respect your elders—” Us: 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏 Someone whispered: “YES MA’AM RESPECT UPDATE INSTALLED 💀” Principal: “Hard work leads to success—” Us: 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏 At some point it wasn’t assembly anymore… It was a live concert nobody asked for. We were clapping continuously, like it was our full-time job. 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏 Even howling joined in: “AW...

 At a point in life, everybody feels lost, to be honest. It's okay to feel that way. Your thoughts get messy. You want to do something but can't start. You have many things to do, just want a starting point. You compare your behind-the-scenes to everyone else's highlights. You feel like you're falling behind when you're just on a different road. You freeze because you're afraid of choosing the wrong first step. But here's the truth — motion creates clarity, not the other way around. Breathe. And start. Don't think much. Start small. Start ugly. Start scared. Just start. The starting point is never perfect, but perfect doesn't move — you do. One tiny step is louder than a thousand perfect plans. You don't need to see the whole staircase. Just the first step. Breathe again. You've got this. This blog exists because I’m literally one of you — full of thoughts and absolutely no life manual 🫠 Everyone will tell you 10 different things about how t...

 In 9th grade, the time had come for the student council elections. Students from classes 8 and 9 were allowed to participate, while 10th graders were eligible for the Head Girl and Head Boy positions. I, being one of the students who never imagined becoming a captain, decided to take part for my Yellow House. We were given three days and four periods to campaign around the school, carrying our banners and asking students to vote for us. Due to some misconduct on the first day, from the second day onward, we were no longer allowed to take companions for help—only the candidates could campaign. I had filled out the form just for the experience, knowing very well that there were more eligible students from my house for the post. I didn’t know what would happen—I just believed in myself. Deep down, I knew I had an inbuilt leadership quality, even if I hadn’t realized it before. This was my chance to explore it. Then, we were asked to choose a symbol to represent our campaign. I picked...

  In 9th grade, I was elected as Vice-Captain of my house. It was our first taste of event planning as responsible captains. With 24 captains on board, we were less of a council and more like a chaotic event-planning circus — juggling duties, cracking jokes, and somehow still pulling off one epic event after another!  Our first BIG council event—and oh, we didn’t just plan it… we  slayed it . The Teacher’s Day event was right around the corner, and we had already started preparing days before . We were all super pumped, but also anxious, knowing that everything depended on us. It wasn’t just any regular event, it was the biggest day where the student council had to shine, and we were managing it all. After  days of staying back till 3 PM ,⏰ collecting supplies, arguing over poster placements. We  took help from some juniors  for posters (thank God for their neat handwriting🖉) We had to  set up  everything from scratch. The  assembly hall ...