The Never-Ending Question “Who am I?” If I had a rupee for every time I asked myself this question, I’d probably be rich enough to never need a career plan. I’m eighteen. That awkward stage where kids younger than me already seem to have their lives figured out—career goals, startup ideas, even backup dreams in case their first dreams fail. Meanwhile, I’m standing here debating between becoming a singer or a potato. Honestly? Potato sounds peaceful. Potatoes don’t need LinkedIn profiles. Life in Bangalore (Or, How I Only Know One Route) When people hear the word “wanderer,” they imagine sunsets, airports, and Instagram-worthy captions. Not me. My version of wandering is standing in my balcony, watching autos speed by. I’ve lived in Bangalore my entire life, yet I only know the route from school to home. That’s it. If you asked me to navigate beyond that, I’d probably panic and call my mom for directions. And yet, the same people who’ve seen me faint in malls now expect me to move a...

Okay, before you start panicking, this is not a prank. This post isn’t sarcastic. No roasting, no trolling, and no chaotic opinions. Just… me. Sitting on a bench. Talking to a tree. (Yes, I know how that sounds. Just go with it.) The Real Stuff I went out to feed my pet, Laddo, on the balcony—she has a habit of treating the whole house like her personal food court, so the balcony's just easier to clean. I wasn’t planning to stay, but the weather had other ideas. Bangalore, in its usual unpredictable glory, gave me a hot day, surprise rain, and then this perfect, quiet cold that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, the world’s trying to calm you down. That’s when I saw this tree. It was shedding. Its dry leaves clung on as if they didn’t want to let go. And under the dull moonlight, with the stars silently watching, I sat there… and weirdly, compared myself to it. The tree stood tall, even with everything falling apart around it. It had only a few leaves left—kind of like me a...

  (Poem by Yashasvi D) I'm a ship lost at sea, Tossed and turned by waves of uncertainty. I'm a wilted flower, Desperately seeking the sun's power. My sails are tattered, my compass confused, The ocean's fury leaves me feeling bruised. My petals droop, my leaves hang low, The sun's warmth and light are what I long to know. But I know that storms must pass, And flowers bloom again on the grass. I'll find my way, I'll weather the gale, And rise again, strong and hale. This poem reflects my personal journey through uncertainty and self-doubt. Whether it’s academics, life decisions, or personal struggles, I’ve had moments where I felt completely lost. But I know nothing stays the same forever, and I’ll rise again—stronger than before. If you’ve ever felt this way, I hope this poem reminds you that you’re not alone. The storm will pass, and you’ll find your way

         My Journey with Dogs: Love, Loss, and                           Unbreakable Bonds I’ve always wondered—how can anyone hate dogs? Just look at them! Their love is pure, their loyalty is unmatched, and I bet you won’t find a personality like theirs in any human. On that note, let me take you through my journey with dogs—a story of love, loss, and the irreplaceable bond we share with them. Maggie & Sandy: My First Companions My first dogs were Maggie and Sandy. Maggie was a fierce German Shepherd, while Sandy was a street dog we adopted. But Sandy looked so much like a Golden Retriever that my aunt was always proud of her “selection.” She appeared like a posh dog that had been pampered since birth. Maggie, on the other hand, was a true guard dog—no one dared to come near our gate because of her. Sandy, however, was just a bundle of joy. But life wasn’t always kind. One day, someone po...