Skip to main content

Momentary Memories.




A decision made within seconds without hesitation. Cheesy Maggi, a cup of tea, and a jam and cream-filled bun for tea time. As I took a five-minute walk from the main gate to the tea shop with my friends, cars raced past, a blur of motion against my life of stillness.

I ate with my friend at V and V after class. We had chicken noodles and momos, washed down with a blue lime drink that still puzzles us. Why was it blue? We didn't find the answer, but maybe we didn't need to. Sometimes, the mystery adds to the moment.

I also tried chocolate with salt. The unexpected mix was surprisingly delightful. It's funny how spontaneous decisions can bring so much joy. I didn't plan on liking it, but I did.

Something I did plan on liking was the extremely sour and mouth-watering combination of a slightly unripe lime and some salt. As you can tell, we had a tin of salt next to us. It was simply perfect, my cheeks digging in as I smiled and twitched at the extremely sour combination.

Life often feels like a series of planned events. That's one thing I wanted to change this year. Maybe I've had one too many cafe visits and maybe I've only been seeking out food as I leave for any place. But it's for sure much more than I ventured out last year.

There's something about seeing local food shops and places, the lives that surround it, and how they live their day-to-day. It's always widely different from your own. Everything is different.

To map out our days, follow schedules, and stick to familiar paths is easier and comforting. But it's the unplanned moments that often leave the most lasting impressions.

I'm not telling anyone to make drastic shifts in their life, of course. It's just about seeking out what you're curious about, letting yourself explore. The world is huge. You don't have to take a plane ticket to experience something different. Some small shift might just be able to do that for you.

There are those pockets of spontaneity reaching out to you in the midst of your daily tasks. Accept it sometimes. Maybe you might get a mysterious blue lime too.

Life isn't limited to what we see; there's so much we don't. Whether it's because we don't want to see it or because we're too busy, maybe it's time to open our eyes.

Not to view others' lives like they're zoo animals, but to understand. It's not about the food you eat; it's the story behind it, the people who eat it whether it be because their train is late or maybe because that's their usual spot. Maybe because it's all they can afford.

The art of observation without perversion, as I mentioned before, extends toward having a conversation and understanding people. It's about the connections you make without intending too. It starts off with complaining about the price of the tea, but you might find a friend in that conversation too.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Is It Casual Now?

There’s a line that sits between us—a hesitation that hangs in the air. Let my silence speak. It’s awkward, yes, but it’s real. Why should I feel bad for you when the hurt is mine to carry? I can see where you’re coming from, but the choice was yours. If the words were empty, why let them out? If you didn’t mean it, why not say so? Just don’t say it at all, or let me know it was never meant to hold weight. But now, I find myself asking—is this what we’ve come to? Has it all become casual, something to brush off like it was nothing? Letting things go because it’s easier than facing the truth?  If that’s the case, then maybe that line I drew wasn’t just a pause. Maybe it was a boundary, a way to protect what’s left of something real. Something that matters. Because once it’s all casual, what’s left but empty gestures and hollow promises?  I wonder if this is how it starts—when words lose their weight and actions feel more like habits than choices. When we start ignoring the smal...

Varuthaayi.

"വരാം," ഞാൻ പറയുമ്പോൾ, "പോകാം" എന്ന് പറയാനുള്ള ആ പേടി. My legs prickle like the seeds of a strawberry, and I feel like tearing myself apart today. I keep picking at the wound that heals every two days, only for it to break open again—blood and flesh. I feel trapped in my own skin, my body will never be what I want it to be. There are things I’m supposed to become, but time is slipping away. I applied for many things. I have sent my name into the void—eight, ten, how many more? They have to call me today. If not, I won’t be who I need to be. Tomorrow, I’ll be hopeless again. I can’t hold on to who I am, so how will time hold on to me? I eat the yellow as if it might bring some joy. One piece is thin and crispy, the bite sounds, and I feel it. The next is thick and bland—someone like me must have cut it. One is unexpectedly sweet, even though it isn’t brown like I expected. How it lies to me. I look in the mirror, I look away. Another is too salty. I eat 250 grams of ...

Where's My Present?

"True consistency isn’t about frequency—it’s about identity. It is about becoming the kind of person who does what needs to be done, no matter what." For a long time, I thought I knew what I wanted. I chased internships, opportunities, and the validation that came with them. These things were within reach, yet the more I pursued them, the more they felt disconnected from who I was.  It wasn’t that they were bad opportunities—they were, by most standards, great ones. And I wouldn't pass them up if I did get them. But they weren’t my purpose, I realize. They didn’t align with the person I wanted to become.  I had let them define so much of what I did, and in that pursuit, I lost sight of the deeper question: What do I actually want? Ironically, chasing them helped me realize that they were never my end goal to begin with.   Yet, the pressure I put on myself was unbearable. The competitiveness I internalized made failure feel worse than death itself. Fear reduced me to ...