When Missing Someone Hits Out of Nowhere

I Miss You Written on Window Image

One of the most romantic delusions I have ever come across is the idea that when you suddenly feel overwhelmed with emotions because you miss someone, it’s because they are missing you too. Some people even extend this belief to loved ones who have passed away, saying their energy is reaching out because they miss you.

It goes against every scientific explanation I know, yet there is something comforting about believing it. Sometimes, when a wave of grief or longing hits without warning, you are not looking for logic. You are simply looking for a reason that helps your heart make sense of what it is feeling.

Over the past few years, there have been many moments when I have found myself unexpectedly emotional while thinking about my father. It often happens out of nowhere. Sometimes it’s triggered by a quote about a father’s love. Sometimes it’s just a random thought that appears during an ordinary day. The strange thing is that it isn’t consistent. There are days when I can think about him and smile. Then there are days when the emotions become too much, and tears arrive before I can stop them.

In those moments, I find myself wondering: is this his way of letting me know that he misses me too?

I like to believe it is.

I treat dreams about him the same way. Whenever he appears in a dream, I see it as a small sign, a quiet reminder that the bond we shared still exists somewhere beyond memory.

It sometimes happens while thinking about friends who are no longer part of your life as well.

Maybe these are just coping mechanisms. Maybe they are the natural ways our minds process grief and emotional loss. Maybe hormones, memories, and nostalgia are working together to create meaning where none exists. But if a belief brings comfort without harming anyone, why rush to take it apart?

When you are grieving or missing someone you love, facts are not always enough. Science may explain what is happening in your mind, but comfort speaks to the heart. And sometimes, comfort is all you need.

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Photo by Andrew Neel

Off Campus: The Friendship Was the Real Love Story

Off Campus Representative Image

I started watching Off Campus because of all the social media hype surrounding the series. It took me almost two weeks to finish it, but honestly, that is how I watch almost every show these days.

In fact, it is not limited to web series alone. I often break movies into 30-minute sessions and watch them over several days like a series. I used to think it was because my attention span had become shorter. But then I watched both parts of Dhurandhar, which were over three hours each, in the theatre without feeling bored for a second. That made me realize the issue probably is not my attention span. The story simply has to hook me enough.

Anyway, back to Off Campus.

One thing I appreciated about this Amazon Prime series is that it fully embraces the campus drama setting and focuses on the lives of young adults. That said, I found it a little difficult to relate to the “college student” aspect because most of the cast looked quite grown-up and remarkably sorted out for their age.

As someone who belongs firmly to the K-drama enthusiast camp, I also struggled a bit with how physical the relationships felt compared to the emotional depth I am used to seeing in Korean dramas. The show does explore trauma, vulnerability, and personal growth, but it never quite reaches the level of empathy and layered storytelling that many K-dramas excel at. Because of that, the series did not emotionally move me as much as I expected.

At the same time, I completely understand why Off Campus has resonated with younger audiences. Beneath the romance, it talks about important themes like dealing with complicated feelings, open communication, consent, emotional support, and empathy. These may sound basic, but they are often easier said than done.

Personally, I enjoyed the friendship between Hannah and Allie even more than some of the main romantic storylines. The scene where Hannah finally chooses to share her story with Allie was an absolute tearjerker for me. Truly, blessed are those who have a friend like that in their lives.

I also found Allie’s romantic arc far more nuanced and interesting. She desperately wants to prove she can be alone without using relationships as a crutch and, in the process, makes some questionable decisions. Honestly, that felt very relatable because most of us have done our fair share of nonsense while trying to convince ourselves we have everything figured out.

Her confusion is what makes the storyline compelling. She has a partner who is not a bad person by any measure, but he is not quite the right person for her either. That grey area, where nobody is necessarily wrong yet things still do not feel right, makes for a much more engaging relationship story. Mika Abdalla aces the role. Her resemblance to the Indian actress, Mahima Chaudhry, is also uncanny.

For me, the overall vibe of Off Campus felt like a blend of 13 Reasons Why and Beartown. Because of that, it did not feel particularly fresh or groundbreaking. A quick Google search tells me that the Off Campus books were published around the same period as Beartown, and some even earlier. Still, my point is simply that the storyline felt familiar to me.

Overall, I think Off Campus is a decent one-time watch if you enjoy young adult romance. It may not have offered anything entirely new, but it was engaging enough to keep me watching.

Off Campus is currently streaming on Amazon Prime Video.

The Introvert-Extrovert Chat Paradox

Picture of two people looking at each other, depicting introversion and extroversion

Something that has caught my eye often over the years is the difference between how introverts and extroverts communicate in real life and online. I wonder if you’ve noticed it too.

I’m an introvert who loves writing and blogging. But I’m someone with a fairly extroverted chatting personality.

On the other hand, many extroverts I know are surprisingly quiet on chat. Some even come across as shy. Meanwhile, introverts like me can appear far more outgoing and expressive online.

This is where things get interesting.

Imagine a friendship that begins through real-life interactions. Someone gets to know your actual personality, and then later comes across your online personality or chat personality. What if they don’t like that version of you as much? The opposite can happen too. Someone may enjoy your confident, talkative online presence but struggle to connect with the quieter, more reserved version of you in real life.

I think this is where many misunderstandings and personality clashes happen today.

This post is simply an observation. It’s just something I’ve noticed while navigating friendship and online conversations.

As someone in my 40s, I didn’t grow up with this confusion because there was no online personality to manage. The people around you knew only one version of you.

I did start blogging during my college days. Over time, I developed an online personality that was more outgoing and expressive. The internet felt like a safe space where I could communicate freely. As someone who was studious and never benefited from what people call “pretty privilege,” writing online allowed me to share my thoughts without feeling judged.

My appearance may have changed over the years, but my introverted nature never really did. The internet continues to be a comfortable space where I could express my feelings and connect with others in a way that felt natural to me.

Today, we live in a digital age where friendships and even relationships are shaped by multiple versions of ourselves. Real-life conversations, text messages, social media interactions, blogs, and online communities collectively play a role in how others judge us.

Maybe that’s why getting to know someone has become both easier and more complicated than ever before.

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Photo by cottonbro studio

The Sad Part of Travel No One Warns You About

Travel Photo

Most people say travel is rejuvenating, but no one really talks about what happens after the trip ends. This feels especially true for people with desk jobs, regular 9-to-5 schedules, or the kind of overtime-heavy work culture that has become common in India.

Once you return from travelling, you are often left with an unsettling feeling. You begin to realise how much of your life is spent restricted to a desk, tied to routines and responsibilities, while there is an entire world outside waiting to be explored. New cities, different cultures, mountain roads, local food, conversations with strangers, and experiences that make life feel bigger than your daily routine. Travel has a strange way of making ordinary life suddenly feel very small.

The truth is that most of our lives are spent working. We spend decades chasing stability, salaries, deadlines, and financial security. Only after retirement do many people finally get the chance to explore the world properly, spend more time on meaningful things, or simply move through life at a slower pace without constantly watching the clock.

After my recent trip, I finally understood why many people choose to limit travelling to retirement. Because when you travel while still working, the months that follow are spent thinking about retirement itself. You start questioning the structure of life in a way you probably never did before.

I think most people are not really craving luxury nowadays. They want peace. A chance to step away from competition, pressure, expectations, and the endless cycle of productivity. But financial responsibilities keep most of us attached to the lives we currently live. And if you think about it, it really is a sad state of affairs. So much of life passes without us truly knowing the world outside our routines. We spend our healthiest years working, saving, and postponing experiences for “someday.” Then, when we finally have enough time and freedom to explore, our physical health may no longer allow us to travel the way we once dreamed of.

Sometimes it genuinely feels like a trap. That is just how modern life is designed. The very rich can afford to live slowly, travel often, and experience the world freely, while the rest of us remain tied to jobs so we can eventually retire with enough money to live comfortably later in life. Until then, most people continue surviving between deadlines, stress, and short vacations that end far too quickly.

It has now been two months since my trip ended, and the feeling of missing the mountains still has not faded. I miss the slow life and mental peace I experienced there deeply. Returning has brought a quiet sadness that has stayed with me ever since. During those ten days of travelling, I experienced bliss as I consciously stayed away from the internet and social media. Honestly, it felt like a relief. When you are travelling, you do not really need distractions because the world around you becomes interesting enough on its own. Every moment feels fuller and more present.

Back home, though, life goes back to screens, schedules, and desk work. And sometimes the internet becomes the only way to explore the world when your real life feels limited to routines.

So now I sit with these thoughts quite often. There is a sombre feeling attached to them. I acknowledge these emotions and quietly hope that one day I return to the version of myself that existed before the trip, when I did not constantly think about whether I was missing out on life, the world, new people, or new experiences. Back then, work and everyday routines felt enough. I was content simply engaging daily with the people I already knew and focusing on responsibilities without questioning life too much.

But travel changes something inside you. That is the difficult part about it. It is both beautiful and cruel at the same time. It opens your eyes to how much more life has to offer, while also reminding you how little time most people actually get to experience it. As the euphoria of the trip fades, the ache lingers.

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Photo by George Pak

Sometimes the Best Part of Travel Is the People You Meet

Bhutan Landscape Photo

For me, the best part of travel is rarely just the destination. It is almost always the people I meet along the way. Sometimes they are fellow Indians I happen to run into while traveling abroad. Other times, they are locals who live there. Either way, travel experiences often become more meaningful because of the people you unexpectedly connect with.

It always amazes me how you can visit a completely new place and instantly click with someone. Someone you had almost zero chance of meeting in your life. Someone you may never meet again. There is something both beautiful and bittersweet about that.

For a brief moment, you feel understood. You find a kind of ease in being yourself. It makes you wish there was someone like that back home. A friend with whom conversations flow naturally, and silence is comfortable. But when the trip ends, you leave with the quiet realization that a part of that connection belongs to that place and moment. And you need to regrettably acknowledge and accept that fact and move on.

Now that I am back in India after my trip to the North East, I realize something interesting. What stays with me is not the destination or the sightseeing. It is the people I connected with during my travels. The random conversations, the shared laughter, and the small moments that made the journey special.

Those encounters also reminded me of something important. Even in my 40s, making new friends is still very much possible. Travel has a funny way of proving that meaningful connections can happen at any stage of life.

Of course, we can stay connected online. Social media and messaging apps make it easy to keep in touch with people you meet while traveling. But it is never quite the same as meeting someone face to face. There is a kind of chemistry in real-life interactions that online conversations cannot fully capture. The smiles, the sparkle in someone’s eyes, the playful teasing, the expressions, and the shared energy of the moment.

That is one reason why travel feels both rejuvenating and humbling. It lifts you into a small dreamlike bubble for a while. You feel lighter, freer, and more open to people and experiences.

But eventually, every trip ends. You leave that bubble behind and return to everyday life. Routine, work, responsibilities, and schedules slowly start filling your days again. Your mind may not be fully ready for reality for a few days. Part of you is still wandering through those travel memories.

Life, however, has a gentle way of bringing you back to the familiar. Slowly, day by day, you settle back into your usual rhythm. The memories of the trip remain, but over time they soften. The details blur a little. The feelings become less intense.

Until the next journey begins.

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Photo by All teams name

Why ‘The Girlfriend’ Left Me Thinking About Parenting and Love

The Girlfriend Telugu Movie Photo

I started watching the Telugu film The Girlfriend with low expectations. I assumed it would be yet another romantic drama that glorifies toxic relationships and emotional manipulation in the name of love. To my surprise, the movie took a more thoughtful and layered route.

Minor spoilers ahead for context

The Girlfriend doesn’t just explore unhealthy love. It also dives into toxic parenting and how childhood conditioning shapes adult behaviour. The female lead is quiet, agreeable, and used to shrinking herself. The film makes it clear that her personality isn’t random. Her upbringing trained her to feel guilty for wanting space, choices, or independence. So when she picks a controlling partner, it feels strangely familiar to her. She’s not frightened of it at first, but she faces a tinge of uncertainty throughout. She tries to treat her partner’s behaviour towards her as normal because she has spent years adjusting to her father’s controlling behaviour. But deep down, there’s a quiet discomfort she can’t ignore. Something feels off, and her instincts begin to push back. This duality is what makes the character so different. This push and pull that many of us have experienced in our own relations with others who are not right for us.

The male lead, on the other hand, is aggressive, impulsive, and driven by ego. He worships Virat Kohli, maybe because he admires the cricketer’s aggressiveness and his devotion towards his wife, Anushka Sharma. He has a charming personality and enjoys a lot of attention. People around him like him, and he knows it. He’s used to getting what he wants, even in friendships. His behaviour reflects a narcissistic mindset where his needs come first, and empathy barely exists. Yet he remains popular, which feels very realistic. In real life, people like him often get the benefit of the doubt because their confidence and charm make them likable, even when behind closed doors, they’re not. This is why it’s often hard for someone with a narcissistic partner to justify leaving. People around them struggle to believe anything is wrong. The scene where he delivers that long, dramatic monologue in front of everyone when she ends the relationship is unforgettable and true to life. It’s an attempt to stage himself as the victim, even when he himself was the one in the relationship with the problematic dynamic.

When the movie shows the male lead’s mother, the pattern becomes clear. She mirrors the heroine’s personality. Anxious. Passive. Always accommodating. His father dominated the household, and his mother absorbed the behaviour without protest. In his partner, he doesn’t just see love. He sees a repetition of his family dynamic. In his own dysfunctional world, this is the definition of love.

This is what makes the film interesting. Many romantic movies in Indian cinema focus only on the lovers. But The Girlfriend highlights how family culture, parenting style, and generational trauma influence relationships. It reminds you that behaviour has context.

It made me think of my own past. My ex-husband had a similar attitude at home. I remember watching him take all his mother’s freshly washed clothes and throw them outside the house, onto the dirt-filled ground, just because she left them drying near the house’s entrance. She didn’t scold him. She didn’t even react. She simply smiled and picked them up to wash again. She later told me she was once abandoned on the roadside at night by her husband after an argument. She narrated it casually, as if it were normal. That’s when I understood why her son expected unquestioning loyalty and forgiveness from his own partner, me.

Watching the movie felt personal because it portrayed something many Indian families silently live with. Not abuse in the usual cinematic sense, but the subtle cycle of fear, guilt, silence, and acceptance.

I liked The Girlfriend mainly because of how honestly it handled the parenting angle. The performances were solid, especially from Rashmika Mandanna and Dheekshith Shetty. Their chemistry felt natural, and the relationship dynamics never felt exaggerated or forced. The emotional tension, confusion, fear, and hope all felt real. It’s rare to see an Indian movie explore love, trauma, and family influence with this level of subtlety. If you enjoy character-driven cinema with emotionally complex and layered characters, this one is worth watching.

The Girlfriend is streaming on Netflix and runs for 2 hours and 18 minutes.