Unfiltered Musings

Let’s be real — most of life’s lessons aren’t taught in school. You either learn them the hard way or by being thrown into situations where you have no choice but to figure things out. Like hostel life — you learn to manage your time, money, laundry, friendships, and emotions all by yourself. No one pays you to survive, but somehow you do. And that’s the kind of learning that truly builds character. Now, here’s a thought — if household chores were paid jobs, would most men actually do them? Honestly, some might, but let’s be honest — most wouldn’t. They’d still wait for someone else to do it. And that’s where it gets interesting. People are quick to blame mothers for raising “raja betas” — boys who never had to pick up after themselves. And yes, sometimes that’s true. But not always. Some mothers do everything right — they teach discipline, empathy, and responsibility — and still, their sons grow up entitled. You can’t blame a mom for how her adult son turns out forever. She’s not rais...

 "So… how does your kid socialise?" That’s the question I get a lot. And every time, I smile politely, but in my head, I’m already rolling my eyes. When I first took my son out of regular school, the only thing I felt guilty about was him leaving behind his little boy gang — the ones who’d make up secret games when the teacher wasn’t around. They were the kind of boys who’d whisper, laugh, and build their own world — while a few “teacher’s pets” ran off to complain about them. But even then, they didn’t stop having fun. Secretly. And that’s what hit me — why secretly? Why did fun have to be something done in whispers? Why did “socialising” mean learning when to hide your joy, when to stay silent, when not to be caught being a child? Lunch breaks weren’t “breaks.” They were silent-eating sessions monitored by “lunch in-charge kids” — yes, literal child informants making sure no one dared to talk. Tell me, is that socialising? Because if it is, I’ll pass. What I saw instead was...

 15 Kids and Counting: How Women in the Olden Days Didn’t Even Know “Enough” Was a Thing Once upon a time, in an era before Netflix, air conditioners, or literally any personal space, women had children like humans had fingers — plenty, and always more than you counted. And somehow, they managed to produce 15 kids or more without turning into zombies. Let’s unpack this ancient mystery. Step 1: Entertainment Was Optional… Babies Were Mandatory Back then, there was no Netflix, no TikTok, not even a crossword to distract you. A woman’s “fun” consisted of laundry, cooking, and being perpetually pregnant. Her husband? He had one job: make more babies. Family planning, as he understood it, was basically: “pray and hope for a boy this time.” Step 2: Contraception Was Mythical Birth control was either a suggestion from the priest or a folk remedy involving weird herbs and hope. Sleeping on opposite sides of the bed? Ha! About as effective as using a sieve to carry water. And thus, the stor...

 There’s a strange comfort in pain — not because it feels good, but because it feels familiar. For the longest time, I carried mine like a medal of survival. The childhood that wasn’t kind, the heartbreaks that left me hollow, the losses that shook my core — I spoke about them often, maybe too often. It felt like if I kept revisiting those moments, I’d somehow find closure. But here’s the truth I learned the hard way: constantly talking about your pain doesn’t heal it — it just keeps it alive. For years, I waited for someone to understand, to validate the things I went through. I thought if enough people knew how much I’d suffered, maybe it would make the pain feel more legitimate. But all it did was anchor me to the same place, replaying the same story, over and over again. Then one day, something shifted. I woke up tired — not physically, but emotionally. Tired of giving the past so much power. Tired of letting old wounds dictate my mood, my peace, my identity. I realized that he...

 You know what cracks me up? We have parenting groups for everything. There’s one full of stressed-out parents from regular schools—crying on WhatsApp about school projects, syllabus, tests, PTMs, and how to get their kid to remember the difference between a parallelogram and trauma. Then there’s the homeschooling gang—us legends who have no idea what we’re doing, but we’re happy doing it anyway. Like, “We’re teaching from the heart, not the textbook,” mostly because we can’t find the textbook. And then, in the same universe, we have Dolly Chaiwala casually collaborating with Bill Gates. BILL GATES. I swear, half of Microsoft’s employees haven’t even seen that man in real life—but Dolly bhai is out there serving chai and getting selfies with him. Meanwhile, we’re out here teaching phonics, algebra, and basic humanity, hoping our kids remember to wear pants for Zoom class. Aur upar se humare PM sahab, who—I’m not even sure—went to school or not, but started by selling chai... and no...

  It’s funny — no, actually it’s tragic — how obsessed parents have become about which company or brand their kid should end up working for. Google. Infosys. Microsoft. Amazon. The so-called dream companies. Some parents talk about it like their kid’s entire worth depends on which logo ends up on their office ID card. What’s even more absurd is that many of them have close family members working in these so-called “top” companies — and yet, they conveniently ignore the pressure, the exhaustion, and the silent suffering that come with it. They see the brand, not the burnout. Let’s talk about the truth no one likes to admit — the dark side of the corporate world. I’ve seen software professionals who are just… running on fumes. Chasing deadlines that never end. Fighting office politics that drain the soul. Living on caffeine and anxiety. Smiling on Zoom calls while mentally collapsing inside. These aren’t people chasing dreams — these are people surviving their 9-to-6 (which, let’s be...