yaar, matlab samjho na, it is wild to think my brother is stuck in this village chained up like a dog while the neighbors chant about evil spirits when we both know the real haunting is just the system failing him - घर वाले समझते नहीं, sab sirf baatein karte hain.
i sat scrolling through my contacts—staring at names that felt like ghosts, wondering if there was something i could say to bring back the past or if that was just me chasing the sound of silence while my mother lay a world away, muted by screens and distance.
sometimes when i look at old magazines i remember all the nights spent cutting out articles and feeling like i was building something big and now it feels like all of that is just clutter, wasted hours really. there are times i sift through the pieces and wonder if any of it really mattered or just left me staring at blank walls, knowing nobody would care if i disappeared.