I would like to suggest a very good outfit for the very first day of your college.

This outfit will boost your confidence. 😼

Log aapko baar baar dekhenge, but you have to ignore them. They are simply envious of your confidence and unique fashion choices.

Never compromise on comfort.

2. HYDRATION 🧃

Hydration 🧃it is so important because you have to talk so many people aur bolte bolte प्यास lgana लाजिमी हैं

Therefore, I recommend carrying a proper water container.

There are two good options available:

Option 1 — Affordable 👍🏻

Sabke paas hota hi hai ye toh.

Very affordable, easily available and requires absolutely no unnecessary investment.

Option 2 — Multipurpose & Very Elegant

This is honestly the more practical option.

Isme paani aa jayega, it is easy to carry, and in case of an emergency, it can also perform several other household functions.

A good college essential should always be multipurpose.

3. TRANSPORTATION 🚁

This is very important iske bina you can't go to college

Itni बारिश hone ke baad सड़कों pe paani bhar jaate h and we can't afford to lose our cool.

Therefore, I strongly recommend a personal chopper.

This is non-negotiable for the rainy season.

You will also reach college directly from above instead of unnecessarily dealing with roads and water.

4. GADGETS 💻📱

Now comes the gadgets.

I am suggesting these because they are very affordable.

Also, buying everything from the same company is recommended because it maintains consistency.

Education is an investment.

5. BACKPACK 🎒

The backpack is another important decision.

You have to carry your laptop, tablet, notebooks, stationery, tiffin, water bottle and several other essential items.

So naturally, a normal backpack may not provide sufficient space.

I recommend a Dior suitcase.

Again, very affordable.

Isme space bhi zyada hai. Saara samaan aa jayega.

Laptop, tablet, notebooks, tiffin, lota, emergency snacks, extra clothes...

Agar zarurat pade toh ek chhota dost bhi aa jayega.

And most importantly, it will match your outfit.

6. PERSONAL PROFESSOR 👨‍🏫

Now we come to academics.

One common problem students face is that professors have fixed schedules.

Personally, I don't think students should have to adjust this much.

Therefore, I recommend hiring a personal professor.

Aap jab chaho lecture.

Aap jab chaho doubt.

Aap jab chaho attendance.

If you are feeling sleepy during the lecture, you can simply ask for a small break.

Education should be flexible according to the student's needs.

7. RED CARPET ✨

First impressions matter.

Very much.

So your entrance should also be planned properly.

A personal red carpet from the college gate to your classroom is therefore highly recommended.

You should not have to walk through college like an ordinary person.

Aapko aate hue dekhkar log side ho jaayein.

Professors notice you.

Students notice you.

Security notices you.

Even the principal should know that you have arrived.

This is called making an impression.

8. PERSONAL WI-FI TOWER 📡

College Wi-Fi is an unpredictable thing.

Kab chalega, kab nahi chalega, nobody knows.

And depending on college Wi-Fi for important academic work is simply unnecessary risk.

Therefore, bring your own personal Wi-Fi tower.

Your connection will be stable.

Your speed will be excellent.

And if your classmates need Wi-Fi, you can generously provide it to them.

This will also help you make friends.

9. FOOD DURING LECTURES 🍕

I strongly believe that colleges should have a strict rule allowing students to eat during lectures.

This should not even be controversial.

Lecture ke beech bhook lag sakti hai.

Professor ko bhi samajhna chahiye ki education is important, but lunch is also important.

Students should be allowed to bring proper meals.

Not just biscuits.

Proper meals.

If someone wants biryani during a two-hour lecture, the institution should respect that decision.

10. PORTABLE POCKET-FRIENDLY COLLEGE 🏫

Finally, we come to the most convenient solution.

The biggest problem with college is that you have to physically go there every day.

This can become tiring.

Especially during summer.

Especially during winter.

Especially during rain.

Basically, every season.

Therefore, I recommend a portable pocket-friendly college.

Jahan jao, college saath le jao.

Ghar pe padhne ka mann hai?

College ghar pe.

Café jaana hai?

College café mein.

Vacation pe jaana hai?

College bhi saath.

Attendance ka problem bhi solve.

There is no need to go to college when the college is already with you.

This is what I call modern education.

FINAL RECOMMENDATION 💀

After carefully considering all the above requirements, I have come to one final conclusion.

Ye sab bhi enough nahi hai.

So just college hi khareed lena, mitrrr.

Aakhir roz college jaane ki mehnat bhi toh bachani hai.

Khud ki relaxation bhi important hai. 😌

Dhanyawad for reading this completely reasonable, practical and financially responsible college guide.

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A — Ab yeh kya kar diya maine? 😭

B — Bhai, ye toh socha hi nahi tha.🫪

C — Chalo chhodo… mujhe kya. 🤷🏻‍♀️

D — Dimag kharab ho gaya hai mera, aur bacha-kucha internet bhi chal nahi raha... 😭😭

E — Ek minute ki shanti nhi hai meri life mein.🙂

F — Firse bhookh lag gayi but jo hai woh nhi khana… kuch accha bhi khana hai but kya khau pata nhi. 🫠

G — Gayi bhains paani mein…🌊🏊🏻‍♀️

H — Haan haan, yehi dekhna baaki tha.🤓

I — I don't know. Mujhe kuch nahi pata. Mujhe jaan na bhi nhi. 🫡

J — Jaldi ka kaam shaitan ka… isliye main kaam hi nhi karungi. 😁

K — Khair… kya hi kar sakte hain ab?🥲

L — Lag gaye bhai.⚰️

M — Maine toh kuch kiya hi nahi. 👀

N — Neend aa rahi hai mujhe. (Haan, firse aa rahi.)🥱

O — Oh hell no… not again.😵‍💫

P — Pata tha kuch na kuch gadbad hogi. Itni shaanti meri jindagi mein impossible😌.

Q — Q nahi ho rahi padhai?😑

R — Ruk kyun nahi jaati yeh life? Sirf loading screen hi dikha ri.🫨

S — Saare kand meri zindagi mein hi kyun hote hain?🧐🤔

T — Tension mat le… bolna aasaan hai, isliye bolke fir khud tension leti hoon.🫣

U — Uff, kya life hai. Kyun hai yeh?😶‍🌫️

V — Vella panti 24/7.💃🏻

W — Why did I do that? Don't ask me… mujhe khud nahi pata.🤠

X — Xcuse me, meri life mein ho kya raha hai?🤯

Y — Yaar, bas ab aur nahi… kal se sab theek karungi.💪🏻😼

Z — Zindagi jhandba, fir bhi ghamandba. 😹

Who am I?

A simple question.

One that should have the simplest answer.

Yet every time I try to answer it,

I find myself talking about everyone else.

I am a daughter.

I am a sister.

I am a friend.

I am a student.

I am someone's favorite person.

I am someone's disappointment.

I am the one people call when they need advice.

The one who remembers birthdays.

The one who forgives too easily.

The one who stays strong.

The one who smiles for photographs.

The one who carries expectations that were never mine to begin with.

The one who says,

"I'm fine,"

so no one has to worry.

The one who listens,

even when no one asks if I'm okay.

The one who apologizes,

even for things that were never my fault.

The one who bends,

because breaking would disappoint too many people.

I am responsible.

I am kind.

I am patient.

I am ambitious.

I have answers for everyone else's problems.

I know everyone's favorite song.

I remember how they take their coffee.

I notice when their smile isn't real.

I know exactly what to say

to make someone feel less alone.

Yet when someone asks me,

"What do you want?"

I hesitate.

Not because I don't understand the question.

Because no one ever asked it long enough

for me to think about the answer.

It's strange.

A person can spend years

becoming unforgettable to everyone else...

while remaining a stranger to themselves.

So if you ask me who I am…

I can give you a hundred answers.

A daughter.

A sister.

A friend.

A student.

A listener.

A dreamer.

A survivor.

Everything...

Just not the one I'm still searching for.

Because...

I am everything.

Everything but myself.

Congrats. Now your kid:

— Has trust issues.

— Has separation anxiety.

— Is indecisive because they were never allowed to choose.

— Overthinks everything.

— Panics easily.

— Apologizes constantly.

— Becomes everyone’s biggest supporter while hiding their own problems.

— Doesn’t tell anyone what they’re going through because they’re afraid honesty might make someone leave.

— Struggles to ask for help.

— Accepts the bare minimum because that’s what they’ve learned to expect.

And then you wonder:

“Why don’t they ever tell us anything?”

Because you taught them that every choice needs permission,

every mistake has consequences,

every feeling needs to be hidden,

and every problem is safer kept to themselves.

You wanted to protect them from the world.

You just forgot to teach them how to trust themselves in it.

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🌙 Saying "I love sleep" while staring at the ceiling at 2:00 AM.

🫣 "I hate talking to people." Also me: gives a stranger their entire life story.

🎬 Changing my whole personality after watching one movie.

📈 Planning my future at 3:00 AM and forgetting it by breakfast.

🚪 Opening the fridge five times as if new food will spawn.

⚔️ Rehearsing arguments that will never happen.

📖 Getting attached to fictional characters more than real people.

😴 Saying "I'm just going to rest for five minutes" and waking up three hours later.

🎧 Listening to one song on repeat until I can't stand it anymore.

🤣 Laughing at my own jokes before I finish telling them.

✅ Making a to-do list just to admire how organized it looks.

📩 Thinking everyone secretly hates me because someone replied with "ok."

🩺 Googling one symptom and somehow ending up with five rare diseases.

🤦 Walking into a room and immediately forgetting why I came.

🍿 Spending an hour deciding what to watch, then rewatching the same comfort show.

🍽️ Saying "I don't care what we eat," then rejecting every suggestion.

🚿 Becoming fluent in imaginary conversations while showering.

🫠 Saying "I'm over it," then thinking about it for the next three weeks.

🎭 Being both the funniest person in the room and the quietest.

🎨 Having 67 hobbies in my head and zero consistency in real life.

✨ Believing tomorrow will magically be my "new life" even though I said the same thing yesterday.

Welcome to Me Core— where none of this makes sense, yet all of it does.😌😉

Lavi, Aki, Jyoti, Ayu, Bae, Pari, Amiii, Archu, Raaj, Kushal, Veer, Mari(Babe), Khushi Bro, Cheshta, June, Shanvi, Maddie, Swati, Whimsy, Sakshi,Barbie, Chavvi, Darling, Megha, and all those with whom I interacted on substack.

Some people come into our lives for a season, while others quietly become a part of our forever. You all have given me memories I'll never stop smiling about, laughter that still echoes in my heart, and comfort that words could never fully describe.

It's funny how most of us started as complete strangers. A random comment, a reply, a shared love for writing, a conversation that wasn't supposed to last—and somehow, here we are. A group of people who may live in different places, have different lives, and have different stories, yet somehow found a little home in each other.

Each of you found your own unique way into my life, and together you've made it brighter than I ever imagined. You may not all know each other, but each of you knows a different version of me—and I'm grateful that every one of those versions had a friend like you.

Thank you for every random conversation that made an ordinary day special. Thank you for every silly joke that made me laugh when I needed it most. Thank you for every word of encouragement, every honest opinion, every "Are you okay?", every celebration of my little achievements, and every moment that reminded me I was never alone.

You have all been there through writer's block, overthinking, chaotic conversations, random memes, late-night thoughts, and countless notifications that somehow became some of my favorite parts of the day.

No matter where life takes us or how busy our lives become, I hope we always find our way back to one another. I hope years from now we still have reasons to laugh together, support each other, and celebrate every milestone, no matter how big or small.

Because some friendships aren't measured by how long you've known someone. They're measured by how deeply they touch your heart.

Thank you for becoming one of the best chapters of my life.

Happy Friendship Day to the people who turned ordinary moments into unforgettable memories, strangers into family, and life into something a little more beautiful.

And before I end this note...

A little note (or maybe a promise) I want from you all... 🤍

— Please continue giving me tea. ☕😂

— Our meme wars are never allowed to end.

— Please keep being there for me the way you always have... and apna aashirwad banaye rakhna. ❤️

— Promise me you'll always choose yourself, NEVER THINK OF DYING SOON🔪🔪, and keep smiling. Please don't carry your battles alone—share them with us instead of keeping everything to yourself. Remember, the world looks better when you're happy. 🤍

— Never stop being the kind soul who brightens everyone's day. And please, always let me annoy you by staying in touch. 🫶

— Never stop checking up on me. It means more than you know.

— Stay as bubbly and radiant as you are. Don't let anyone make you question your worth.

— Always remain my sweet little sister, You may not realise but you are really so sweet and nice my sista 🥹

— Mr. Substack Lover Boy, smile a little more. Don't be a dukhi aatma. 😂

— Promise we'll keep twinning and me teasing you every time, buddy. 😌

— Let's keep debating... and let me keep winning while annoying you. 😂

— Promise me you will never leave my side and upload more of your guitar playing videos

— Broooo... never stop your handsome talks with me. 🤝

— Stay the genuinely sweet person you are.

— Never lose your calm, cool, and awesome nature.

— Please never stop writing. Your poems feel as comforting as your personality.

— Stay as kind and wonderful as you are. The world needs more people like you.

— Always remember that you're one of those people whose notification instantly makes me smile.

— Never lose your whimsical magic... and don't forget we're forever twins. ✨

— Never stop blessing me with your article ratings. They're the biggest mood-lifters, and you're such a cool diva.

— Never lose your interaction with me you are a gem🫂

— you really brightens up my day and are a personwith whom I wanna stay connected forever 🥹

— Let's keep harmlessly flirting and making each other laugh forever, beautiful. 😂🤍

— The way you checks up on my day abt how it went don't change it you don't know how much I love it 🥹

, , , , , , , , , , , — You all are so nice, tho I had a little interaction with you all I cherish it and hope we have more of such interaction in future 🥹🥹

And to all of you...

Please don't let this be one of those friendships that slowly fade into a memory. If any of you ever take a break from Substack, promise we'll stay connected somewhere else. I don't want to wake up one day and realize we've become strangers who only remember each other's names.

Let's keep reading each other's words, celebrating each other's victories, teasing each other, arguing over the silliest things, and showing up for one another—because that's what made this place feel like home.

And if there's one promise I want from all of you, it's this—

Don't forget me... because I know I'll never forget any of you.

Happy Friendship Day. I love you all more than words could ever say. 🤍

Your Substack friend,

Hannah♥️♥️

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We could be

Sunday mornings.

Instead,

sleepless nights.

We could be

inside jokes.

Instead,

awkward silence.

We could be

matching rings.

Instead,

empty hands.

We could be

one address.

Instead,

different doorbells.

We could be

old photographs.

Instead,

forgotten faces.

We could be

gray hair,

rocking chairs,

and growing old.

Instead,

we became

the life

that never happened.

We could be

reality.

But ‘we’ existed

only

in my imagination.

Every civilization leaves something behind.

Some leave pyramids.

Some leave temples.

Some leave libraries.

But every civilization, without exception, leaves behind its monsters.

When we study history, we usually look at what civilizations built.

The pyramids of Egypt.

The ruins of Rome.

The temples of Greece.

The Great Wall of China.

We call them the fingerprints of humanity because they tell us how people lived, what they valued, and what they wanted the world to remember.

But history has another kind of monument.

One that was never carved from stone.

One that was carved from fear.

Every civilization, no matter how different from another, created stories about things that existed beyond the boundaries of ordinary life.

Creatures hiding in forests.

Spirits returning from graves.

Beings that looked human but somehow felt less than human.

Different names.

Different faces.

Different worlds.

Yet somehow, the same fears.

For a long time, we have treated monsters as simple entertainment.

Stories created to scare children.

Characters created for movies.

Imaginary creatures that disappear when the lights turn on.

But the more we look at history, the more interesting the truth becomes.

Monsters were never created only because humans loved fear.

They were created because humans have always searched for explanations.

Before psychology tried to explain anxiety, obsession, trauma, or destructive impulses, stories were already giving those experiences a shape.

Before science explained diseases, disasters, and mysteries, myths gave people a way to understand a confusing world.

A monster was never just something to fear.

It was an answer to a question humanity did not yet know how to ask.

And perhaps that is why monsters survived longer than many civilizations themselves.

Because technology changes.

Societies change.

The world changes.

But our deepest fears rarely do.

Every Civilization Invents the Unknown

Imagine living hundreds of years ago.

The sun disappears in the middle of the day.

A disease spreads through your village without warning.

Someone you love suddenly behaves like a completely different person.

A person dies, and nobody knows what happens after.

Today, we have medicine, psychology, science, and technology.

But people in the past had something else.

Stories.

Not because they were unintelligent.

Not because they were incapable of understanding.

Because humans have always tried to find meaning in chaos.

When something feels impossible to explain, we give it a shape.

A name.

A face.

A story.

Myths were humanity’s first conversations with the unknown.

They were not simply failed attempts at understanding reality.

They answered questions science had not yet learned to answer.

And they explored questions science was never meant to answer.

Science can explain how something happens.

Stories explore why it matters.

That difference is exactly why monsters survived.

The most unforgettable monsters were never the ones that looked completely different from us.

A creature with strange features may frighten us for a moment.

But a creature that looks almost human?

That stays with us.

Because the deepest fear is not always:

“What if something dangerous exists outside?”

Sometimes it is:

“What if something familiar becomes something terrifying?”

That is why zombies, vampires, and werewolves became different from ordinary monsters.

They are not completely separate from humanity.

They are distorted reflections of it.

And perhaps that is the reason they never truly died.

The Monster That Never Dies

Few creatures have changed as dramatically as the vampire.

Today, we imagine elegance. Charm. Immortality.

A mysterious figure standing in the shadows with centuries of secrets behind their eyes.

But that was not always the vampire.

Before literature transformed vampires into sophisticated immortal beings, many cultures had stories of restless dead who refused to remain buried.

The details changed from place to place.

But the fear remained similar.

Death was supposed to be the end.

So what happens when something returns?

And what if what returns is not truly the person you lost?

That idea frightened people because it challenged one of humanity’s oldest boundaries.

The line between life and death.

Over time, writers transformed the vampire.

The monster became more complicated.

It was no longer simply a creature hiding in darkness.

It became intelligent.

Beautiful.

Powerful.

Almost impossible to ignore.

And that transformation reveals something fascinating about us.

A monster that looks terrifying is easy to reject.

A monster that looks attractive is much harder to understand.

The vampire stopped being only a creature of horror.

It became a symbol.

A symbol of temptation.

Power without ageing.

Beauty without consequence.

Influence without limits.

Across different stories, vampires have represented privilege, exploitation, desire, obsession with youth, and humanity’s endless wish to escape its own limitations.

Not every vampire story means the same thing.

But one idea appears again and again:

The vampire survives by taking something from others.

Its existence depends on someone else losing something.

And perhaps that is why it never feels outdated.

Every generation creates its own vampire.

Sometimes it represents wealth.

Sometimes influence.

Sometimes people who seem to become stronger by draining everyone around them.

The appearance changes.

The hunger remains.

The Beast Beneath Civilization

If the vampire asks:

“What happens when power consumes humanity?”

The werewolf asks something more personal:

“What happens when we lose control of ourselves?”

Stories of humans transforming into wolves have existed for thousands of years.

Ancient myths spoke of transformation.

Norse traditions connected wolves with strength and battle.

European folklore developed tales of people becoming beasts beneath the full moon.

The details changed.

The question remained.

How thin is the line between civilization and instinct?

Unlike the vampire, the werewolf is often tragic.

The vampire usually knows what it is.

The werewolf often does not.

It transforms.

It loses control.

And when it becomes itself again, it has to face what happened.

That is what makes the werewolf so human.

It represents the parts of ourselves we struggle with.

Anger.

Fear.

Jealousy.

Desire.

The emotions that can push us toward choices we later regret.

Long before psychology gave these struggles scientific explanations, werewolf stories were already exploring the conflict between impulse and restraint.

The werewolf is not really a story about becoming a wolf.

It is a story about trying to remain yourself.

Because sometimes the most frightening battles are not fought against monsters.

Sometimes they happen inside us.

The Dead That Keep Walking

If the vampire represents the fear of losing humanity through power...

and the werewolf represents the fear of losing control over ourselves...

the zombie represents something quieter.

Something that feels strangely close to our modern world.

The fear of losing ourselves.

We see them in movies, games, books, and countless stories about the collapse of civilization.

But the zombie we know today is very different from where the idea began.

Before endless crowds walking through abandoned cities, zombie stories were connected to deeper fears:

Identity.

Freedom.

Control.

The roots of the zombie lie in Haitian folklore, shaped by the painful histories of slavery and colonialism.

The original horror was not simply:

“What if the dead return?”

It was something far more unsettling:

“What if someone loses everything that makes them who they are?”

Their freedom.

Their identity.

Their ability to choose.

That is what makes the zombie such a powerful symbol.

Because perhaps the greatest fear is not death.

It is watching yourself disappear while your heart is still beating.

Modern stories transformed the zombie into something new.

The individual became the crowd.

The person became the mass.

The name disappeared.

The memories disappeared.

The personality disappeared.

What remained was movement.

Forward.

Again.

And again.

The zombie does not negotiate.

It does not dream.

It does not question.

It simply continues.

And perhaps that is why zombies became such a powerful reflection of society.

The word itself escaped horror fiction.

Today, people describe exhausted workers as “zombies.”

They talk about mindless routines.

Endless scrolling.

Moving through life without stopping to ask why.

The zombie became more than a monster.

It became a question.

A question that is uncomfortable because it feels familiar:

Are we truly living?

Or are we simply continuing?

The Monsters We Keep Creating

After looking at these three creatures together, something becomes clear.

Monsters do not disappear when humanity becomes more knowledgeable.

They evolve.

At first, that seems strange.

If monsters existed only because people did not understand the world, then science should have erased them.

We understand diseases.

We understand natural events that once seemed impossible.

We can explain many mysteries that once belonged only to mythology.

Yet vampires still fascinate us.

Werewolves still haunt stories.

Zombies still walk across our screens.

Why?

They represent feelings humans still experience:

Fear.

Desire.

Anger.

Loss.

The struggle to understand ourselves.

Science explains what happens.

Stories explore what those things mean.

And humans have always needed both.

Why These Three Never Disappeared

History has created thousands of monsters.

Dragons.

Giants.

Sea serpents.

Ghosts.

Demons.

Many became legends and slowly faded away.

So why did zombies, vampires, and werewolves survive?

Maybe because they are not completely separate from humanity.

They are versions of us.

A vampire still has a human face.

A werewolf begins as a human.

A zombie was once someone with a name, memories, and a life.

That small connection changes everything.

The greatest horror has never only been meeting the monster.

It has always been becoming it.

Three Monsters. Three Human Fears.

When these three creatures stand beside each other, a pattern appears.

The zombie represents the fear of losing identity.

The vampire represents the fear of losing compassion while chasing power.

The werewolf represents the fear of losing control over ourselves.

Three monsters.

Three different ways of becoming less human.

The zombie asks:

“What happens when we stop thinking for ourselves?”

The vampire asks:

“What happens when ambition becomes more important than empathy?”

The werewolf asks:

“What happens when our emotions become stronger than our choices?”

These questions do not belong only to horror.

They belong to history.

To psychology.

To society.

To everyday life.

The monsters are fictional.

But the fears behind them are not.

When Society Sees Itself in a Monster

Perhaps monsters survive because every generation discovers something new inside them.

A story created hundreds of years ago can suddenly feel relevant again because society changes the meaning we find in it.

During times of uncertainty, zombie stories often become popular because they reflect fears of collapse and losing control.

When people worry about wealth, inequality, and unchecked influence, vampires return as symbols of power and exploitation.

When conversations turn toward identity, anger, and self-control, the werewolf becomes strangely relatable.

These meanings are not permanent.

They change with us.

That is the beauty of myths.

They do not stay trapped in the past.

They travel with humanity.

The Monsters We Haven’t Named Yet

If monsters reflect the fears of their time...

what does that say about our time?

The darkness today looks different.

It does not always hide in forests or abandoned castles.

Sometimes it glows from a screen.

It appears in algorithms.

It arrives as endless notifications.

We worry about losing our attention.

Our privacy.

Our sense of identity.

We wonder how technology is changing the way we think, connect, and understand ourselves.

These are not monsters.

But they carry familiar fears.

The fear of losing control.

The fear of losing ourselves.

The fear of becoming something we never intended to become.

Perhaps future generations will create new monsters based on today’s anxieties.

Not because humans are obsessed with fear.

But because storytelling has always been how we process it.

Perhaps We Were Reading Them Backwards

For years, monster stories seemed to ask one simple question:

“What if these creatures were real?”

But maybe that was never the most important question.

Maybe the real question was:

“What do these creatures reveal about us?”

The zombie was never only about the dead.

It was about the fear of losing thought, individuality, and purpose.

The vampire was never only about immortality.

It was about the temptation of power and what we sacrifice to obtain it.

The werewolf was never only about transformation.

It was about the struggle between who we are and who we fear becoming.

The monsters that survive are not always the ones that scare us the most.

They are the ones that understand something about being human.

The Mirror Behind Every Monster

People often say myths survive because they are timeless.

Maybe they do.

But perhaps they survive because we are.

The world around us changes constantly.

Empires rise and fall.

Borders move.

Languages evolve.

Technology transforms the way we live.

Yet the questions remain surprisingly familiar.

Why do people seek power?

Why do people lose control?

Why do people sometimes become strangers to themselves?

How much of ourselves are we willing to sacrifice to survive?

History keeps searching for answers.

Science keeps discovering new ones.

But stories never stop asking questions.

And maybe that is why monsters never really died.

Not because they were immortal.

Because the fears that created them never were.

The next time you see a zombie walking through a ruined city...

or a vampire standing silently in the shadows...

or a werewolf beneath a full moon...

look beyond the horror.

Beyond the claws.

Beyond the fangs.

Beyond the mythology.

Because maybe the monster was never standing against humanity.

Maybe it was standing beside humanity.

Holding up a mirror.

For thousands of years, civilizations have created monsters hoping to understand the unknown.

But perhaps the greatest mystery was never the creature hiding in the darkness.

Perhaps it was ourselves.

Every civilization leaves behind two things.

The world it built.

And the monsters it imagined.

One tells us what humanity achieved.

The other tells us what humanity feared.

And perhaps that is why zombies, vampires, and werewolves never really died.

They were never only stories about monsters.

They were stories about us.

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Time- 9:30 (26/07/2026)

Hum dono (me and my brother) ko na ek chauraha pe jaane ki bohot chul thi. Sab bolte the waha bhoot-vhoot hote hain, isliye hume strictly mana kiya hua tha. Like literally, "Waha gaye toh dekh lena..." type warning. 😭

But ofc...

Hum pehle bhi 3 baar gaye the.

Nothing.

Bilkul normal.

Toh hum bhi sochne lage, "Haan haan... bas rumours honge."

Aaj phir chale gaye...

Raat ka time tha.

Road bilkul pitch black.

Na koi gaadi.

Na koi insaan.

Bas hum.

Then...

Ek aurat dikhi.

Bilkul road ke beech mein khadi thi.

Red wedding lehenga.

Puri jewellery.

Bilkul dulhan jaisi.

Hum uske paas se nikalne lage toh woh boli...

"Akele kyun ja rahe ho...? Mujhe bhi saath le chalo."

Jo dare hum na... 😭

Bhai seedha bike bhaga di.

Ek second bhi nahi socha.

Phir thodi der baad humne peeche dekha...

SHE WAS RUNNING AFTER US.

I'm not even joking.

Jitni speed hum bike ki badha rahe the...

Utni hi speed woh bhi bhaag rahi thi.

Aur woh distance...

Kam hi nahi ho raha tha.

Us time literally dimaag hi band ho gaya tha.

Phir achanak...

Bas...

Gayab.

Matlab...

Ek second pehle thi.

Next second...

Koi tha hi nahi.

Ghar aake sab bataya toh jo daant padi na... 😭

Phir nazar-vazar utari gayi.

Aur bas sab bolne lage ki dobara kabhi mat jaana.

Mujhe abhi bhi nahi pata humne kya dekha.

Bas itna pata hai...

Us chauraha pe dobara curiosity ke chakkar mein kabhi nahi jaayenge. 😭💀

Jo dar laga na...

Abhi tak recover nahi hue. 😭😭💀

SACCHI GHATNA PAR AADHARIT

They called me mature for my age,

While I was living in a cage.

They praised the smile upon my face,

But never saw my hidden aches.

I learned to stay so calm and still,

To hide my fear, to hide my will.

I never cried, I never fought,

Love felt earned instead of taught.

While others laughed and made a mess,

I learned to carry every stress.

They played outside until the night,

I learned to read each room just right.

I spoke so softly, walked so slow,

Afraid to be too much to know.

I asked for little, needed less...

They called it kindness, nothing else.

"I'm fine" became my favorite lie,

I wore a smile I couldn't buy.

They called me strong, they called me wise...

No one looked behind my eyes.

Now I am grown, but something stays.

I'm still that child in many ways.

I fear good things will never last,

Because my heart still lives back there.

They ask me why I can't let go,

Why love still feels so hard to hold.

How do I tell them, soft and mild...

No one ever hugged the child...

They only praised how mature she smiled.

They called me mature.

I wish someone had noticed...

I was just a child.

wapas miloge kya?

Jo baat kehni reh gayi thi,

use sunoge kya?

Jo badal gaya hai hamare beech,

sahi karoge kya?

Khatam ho gaya tha sab,

phir mohabbat karoge kya?

Bharosa nahi hai ab kisi pe,

bharosa dila paoge kya?

Sab mujhe chhod kar chale jaate hain,

tum sab chhod kar mere paas aaoge kya?

Ek baar aur milna hai tumse,

wapas miloge kya?

Shayad mil bhi gaye,

to pehle jaise honge kya?

Jo muskurahat tum le gaye the,

woh lauta paoge kya?

Jo waqt humne kho diya,

woh phir se jee paoge kya?

Ya bas do ajnabi bankar,

ek doosre ko dekh kar muskura denge?

Aur agar na mile kabhi,

to yaad rakhoge kya?

Kabhi kisi shaam,

mera naam soch kar rukoge kya?

Kabhi kisi geet mein,

meri awaaz dhoondhoge kya?

Ya phir kisi aur ke saath,

mujhe bhool jaoge kya?

Pata hai...

Ab tumhare jawaab ka intezaar nahi karti.

Bas kabhi kabhi,

khud se tumhara zikr ho jaata hai.

Sochti hoon...

Agar kabhi achanak

phir saamne aa gaye,

to pehchaan loge kya?

Ya meri tarah,

tumne bhi yaadon ko

sirf yaad hi rehne diya?

Main shikayat nahi karungi.

Na yeh poochungi

kyun gaye the,

na yeh ki

kyun laut kar aaye.

Bas ek baar,

tumhari aankhon mein dekh kar

sirf itna poochungi—

"Iss baar... miloge kya?"

Aur agar is baar bhi

jawab khamoshi hua...

To samajh jaaungi,

kuch log sirf kahaniyon mein milte hain.

Aur phir...

Main bhi muskura kar,

bina mude chali jaaungi.

"Humare ek ke karne se thodi kuch badal jayega."

It is perhaps one of the most dangerous sentences we use in everyday life.

Not because it sounds wrong.

But because it sounds reasonable.

We've all heard it. Sometimes from a stranger, sometimes from a friend, and if we're honest enough, probably from ourselves too.

"Ek wrapper hi toh hai."

"Sab hi toh kar rahe hain."

"Government ka kaam hai."

"Yahan aisa hi chalta hai."

These aren't just excuses. They're beliefs. And beliefs, when repeated often enough, quietly become culture.

Every country has challenges. Some struggle with infrastructure, others with resources, and many with governance. India is no exception. We often debate roads, policies, corruption, education and development. Yet there is one subject that rarely receives the attention it deserves because it is uncomfortable to admit.

Civic sense.

Not the kind that is taught in school textbooks under "Moral Science."

The kind that reveals itself when nobody is watching.

The kind that determines whether you throw a wrapper inside the dustbin or beside it.

Whether you wait your turn or push your way ahead.

Whether you leave a public washroom usable for the next person or walk away thinking, "Mera kaam toh ho gaya."

Because civic sense is not about laws.

It is about respect.

Respect for people you don't know and may never meet.

Cleanliness Begins Where Convenience Ends

If someone wants to understand a country's civic culture, they don't need to study its Constitution first.

They simply need to walk through its streets after a busy evening.

One of the strangest things about us is that we genuinely love cleanliness.

Just not everywhere.

Visit an Indian home and you'll often find spotless floors, neatly arranged shoes outside the entrance, furniture covered carefully, and an almost obsessive concern for hygiene within those four walls. Parents scold children for dropping crumbs inside the house. Guests are asked to remove their footwear before entering.

Then those same people step outside.

A chips packet is thrown from a moving car.

A plastic bottle is left on a park bench.

Tea cups are abandoned beside the very dustbin they were supposed to go into.

It isn't that we don't know what the right thing is.

It's that public spaces somehow don't feel like our responsibility.

Have you ever noticed how often garbage isn't thrown far away from the dustbin?

It's thrown next to it.

Not fifty metres away.

Not hidden somewhere.

Just... beside it.

Almost as if making the final effort somehow became optional.

Perhaps that small distance perfectly represents our civic sense.

We are close enough to know the right thing.

Just not committed enough to do it.

Then comes the most familiar defence.

"Humare ek wrapper se thodi kuch ho jayega."

No.

One wrapper doesn't make a city dirty.

Neither does one plastic bottle.

Nor one cigarette butt.

Nor one disposable cup.

But a city isn't dirtied by one person.

It is dirtied by millions of people believing exactly the same thing.

The irony is impossible to ignore.

The same person who keeps their bedroom spotless often thinks nothing of littering a railway platform.

The same family that spends hours cleaning their house may leave behind plastic plates after a picnic.

Somewhere along the way, we've divided cleanliness into two categories.

My space.

And...

Someone else's problem.

Public Property: Everyone's, Yet Nobody's

There is another strange habit we've normalised.

Treating public property as if it belongs to no one.

Walk through almost any city and you'll notice it.

A newly painted wall doesn't stay clean for long before someone's name appears on it.

A bus stop becomes a place to stick advertisements.

Park benches are broken.

Metro stations carry scratches.

Government buildings slowly lose their shine.

Public toilets become unusable within days.

Then, almost magically, the same people complain.

"Government kuch karti hi nahi."

Of course governments have responsibilities.

Infrastructure must be built.

Maintenance must improve.

Authorities should be held accountable.

But accountability doesn't stop at elections.

It continues every single day in the way citizens treat what has already been built.

Good civic behaviour and good governance are partners, not substitutes.

Public property isn't free.

We pay for it through taxes.

When someone breaks a bench, writes on a monument or damages a railway coach, they aren't hurting the government.

They're damaging something that belongs to every citizen.

Imagine buying a brand-new phone.

Now imagine scratching its screen deliberately.

Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?

Yet many of us do exactly that with public infrastructure.

Then we wonder why everything looks old before its time.

Perhaps the real problem isn't a lack of facilities.

Perhaps it's a lack of ownership.

If it belongs to me, I protect it.

If it belongs to everyone, surely someone else will.

And that's exactly why things that belong to everyone often end up cared for by no one.

Traffic: More Than Just Roads

There is probably no better place to observe human behaviour than an Indian traffic signal.

Not because of the vehicles.

Because of the people.

The light turns red.

Three seconds pass.

Someone starts honking.

Not because the signal changed.

Not because the road became clear.

Simply because waiting feels unbearable.

It has almost become instinctive.

As though pressing the horn repeatedly will somehow convince physics to move faster.

Then comes the next scene.

Someone drives on the wrong side because it's "just a shortcut."

Someone parks in the middle of the road because they're "only gone for two minutes."

Someone blocks the pedestrian crossing.

Another ignores lane discipline entirely.

Then an ambulance appears.

Instead of creating space, vehicles squeeze even closer, each hoping to get ahead before anyone else.

The saddest part isn't that these things happen.

The saddest part is that they no longer surprise us.

We've accepted chaos as normal.

And perhaps that's what civic sense really is.

Not following rules because a traffic police officer is standing nearby.

Following them because another human being deserves consideration.

The horn is meant to prevent accidents.

Not express impatience.

Roads are meant to connect people.

Not become arenas where everyone believes their journey is more important than everyone else's.

The Queue We Never Wanted

There is a simple social experiment you can try.

Go to a railway station, a temple, a hospital, a college admission counter, or even a popular food stall. Stand quietly and observe what happens when a queue begins to form.

Within minutes, someone will ask, "Bhai bas ek minute ka kaam hai."

Another person will pretend to know someone standing ahead.

Someone else will quietly slip into the line from the side, hoping nobody notices.

And if someone politely objects?

"Aree itna kya ho gaya?"

It's fascinating how we often mistake patience for weakness.

Waiting for your turn is seen as being naive, while breaking the queue is celebrated as being smart. We admire people who find "jugaad" in every situation, even when that jugaad comes at the cost of someone else's time.

Imagine fifty people thinking they're entitled to "just one minute."

Suddenly, the queue loses all meaning.

The irony is that the same person who gets frustrated when someone cuts in front of them often doesn't hesitate to do the exact same thing somewhere else.

Civic sense isn't tested when following rules is easy.

It's tested when breaking them would benefit you.

Public Washrooms: A Reflection of Collective Responsibility

One of the biggest complaints Indians have is about public washrooms.

"They're always dirty."

"They smell."

"They're unusable."

Sometimes these complaints are completely justified. Many public toilets genuinely suffer from poor maintenance, inadequate staffing, or insufficient infrastructure. Those are real issues, and authorities have a responsibility to address them.

But there's another side to the story that we rarely discuss.

How many people leave a public washroom exactly the way they would like to find it?

How often do we flush properly?

How often do we throw tissues into bins instead of on the floor?

How many people leave taps running because "it's not my water bill"?

A public washroom is one of the few places where your actions directly affect the next stranger.

You'll probably never meet that person.

They'll never know your name.

Yet your behaviour determines whether their experience is dignified or miserable.

That, in many ways, is the purest definition of civic sense.

Doing the right thing for someone who can never thank you.

When Respect Disappears from Our Language

Language shapes behaviour more than we realise.

Somewhere over the years, abusive language has become so common that many people barely notice it anymore.

Friends greet each other with abusive words or insults(gali).

Arguments escalate within seconds.

Road rage begins with a horn and ends with words that have become almost routine.

Many defend it by saying,

"Aise hi baat karte hain yaar."

Perhaps.

But normal doesn't always mean healthy.

Courtesy has quietly become unfashionable.

Saying "please," "thank you," or "sorry" often feels unnecessary.

Being polite is mistaken for being weak.

Being loud is confused with being confident.

Yet some of the most developed societies in the world aren't admired because their citizens are richer.

They're admired because strangers treat each other with basic respect.

Good language isn't about sounding sophisticated.

It's about recognising the humanity of the person standing in front of you.

Respect for Women Is Civic Sense Too

When people hear the phrase civic sense, they usually think about traffic rules, garbage, or cleanliness.

Rarely do they think about how women experience public spaces.

Yet nothing reveals a society's civic culture more honestly than this.

For countless women, stepping outside isn't simply about reaching a destination.

It's about calculating risk.

Is this road safe?

Should I ignore those comments?

Should I call someone while walking?

Will people stare if I wear this?

These aren't questions anyone should have to ask before leaving home.

Catcalling, making inappropriate comments, invading personal space, following someone, or dismissing harassment as "Arre mazaak tha" isn't just bad behaviour.

It's a failure of civic responsibility.

Respect doesn't begin at home and end at your front gate.

It extends to every stranger you share a public space with.

A truly civil society isn't one where women constantly learn to stay alert.

It's one where they don't have to.

The Airport Effect

Here's something worth thinking about.

Many Indians who travel abroad suddenly become model citizens.

They don't litter.

They wait patiently in queues.

They rarely spit on roads.

Traffic rules are followed.

Pedestrians are respected.

Noise levels magically reduce.

So the obvious question isn't whether Indians know civic sense.

Clearly, many do.

The real question is:

Why does our behaviour change with our location?

Some people say it's because the fines are stricter.

Others say it's because the systems work better.

Both are partly true.

Consequences matter.

Good infrastructure matters.

But perhaps something else changes too.

We believe everyone else is following the rules.

And when society expects discipline, discipline slowly becomes normal.

Back home, however, many people assume the opposite.

"Sab hi toh kar rahe hain."

That single sentence becomes permission.

Permission to litter.

Permission to jump the queue.

Permission to ignore the rules because everyone else appears to be doing the same.

The tragedy is that everyone is waiting for someone else to change first.

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The Excuse That Built a Habit

Every society has problems.

But not every society justifies them.

Somewhere along the way, we became experts at explaining away our behaviour.

"Humare ek se kya hoga?"

(Kuch toh hoga)

"Government ka kaam hai."

(Govt. ke bohat kaam hai par karti kuch nhi woh, khudko karna hoga hume)

"Sab hi toh kar rahe hain."

(Toh sabko hi nhi karna hota hai)

"Are chalta hai."

(Nhi… nhi chalta)

If you think about it, almost every act of poor civic behaviour begins with one of these four sentences.

They're comforting because they remove responsibility.

The moment we believe our actions don't matter, we're free from guilt.

The wrapper becomes insignificant.

The broken queue becomes harmless.

The unnecessary horn becomes normal.

The spit on the wall becomes someone else's problem.

Excuses are dangerous because they don't feel like excuses.

They feel like logic.

And when an entire society starts using the same logic, irresponsibility slowly begins to look normal.

Perhaps that's why civic sense is so difficult to improve.

We're not fighting ignorance.

Most people already know the right thing to do.

We're fighting convenience.

We're fighting habits.

We're fighting the belief that one person's behaviour has no impact.

Who Is Really Responsible?

Whenever civic sense is discussed, the debate quickly becomes predictable.

Some people blame the government.

Others blame citizens.

The truth is far less convenient.

Both are responsible.

Governments are expected to build better roads, provide enough dustbins, maintain public toilets, enforce traffic laws, improve public transport, and ensure that public spaces are safe and accessible. Without these basics, asking people to behave perfectly is unrealistic.

But governments cannot stand beside every dustbin.

They cannot follow every car.

They cannot stop every person from cutting a queue.

They cannot clean every wall five minutes after someone spits on it.

A society doesn't become civil because of laws alone.

It becomes civil because people begin doing the right thing even when there is no punishment for doing the wrong thing.

Laws create order.

Values create culture.

You need both.

One without the other never lasts.

The Real Meaning of “Civic Sense”

Maybe we've misunderstood civic sense all along.

It's not about memorising rules.

It's not about fearing fines.

It's not even about looking patriotic.

It's about something much simpler.

Respect.

Respect for a cleaner who shouldn't have to pick up the garbage you threw.

Respect for the stranger waiting patiently behind you in a queue.

Respect for the driver trying to reach home safely.

Respect for the elderly person who deserves a seat on public transport.

Respect for the child who deserves a clean park to play in.

Respect for the woman who deserves to walk down a street without feeling unsafe.

Respect for people you'll probably never meet again.

That's what makes civic sense unique.

It's kindness without recognition.

Responsibility without reward.

Character without an audience.

The Mirror We Avoid Looking Into

Every time a reel showing poor civic behaviour goes viral, millions of people rush to the comments.

"Zero civic sense."

"India will never change."

"People are the problem."

Perhaps they're right.

But perhaps they're looking in the wrong direction.

The easiest thing in the world is to identify bad behaviour in someone else's video.

The hardest thing is recognising it in our own daily routine.

Maybe we've never thrown garbage on the road.

But have we ever ignored someone cutting a queue because confronting them felt inconvenient?

Maybe we've never spat on a wall.

But have we ever crossed a road carelessly because "it's just this once"?

Maybe we've never harassed anyone.

But have we stayed silent when someone else did?

Civic sense isn't measured by the worst thing you've done.

It's measured by the smallest decisions you make every single day.

The ones nobody applauds.

The ones nobody records.

The ones nobody even notices.

So... Reel or Reality?

Maybe the title asks the wrong question.

The question isn't whether "Zero Civic Sense" is a reel or reality.

The real question is this:

How many of those reels would disappear if each of us stopped making just one excuse?

Not tomorrow.

Not after stricter laws.

Today.

Because countries don't become cleaner overnight.

They become cleaner one person at a time.

Traffic doesn't become disciplined because roads suddenly improve.

It becomes disciplined when enough people decide that saving thirty seconds isn't worth risking someone else's life.

Women don't feel safer because of slogans.

They feel safer because enough people choose respect over entitlement.

Public spaces don't become beautiful because someone paints another wall.

They remain beautiful because thousands of strangers quietly decide not to damage it.

For years, we've repeated the same sentence.

"Humare ek se kya hoga?"

Maybe we've been asking the wrong question.

Maybe the question should have been:

"Agar mere ek se shuruaat ho sakti hai... toh rukawat kis baat ki?"

Because no country was ever transformed by millions of people changing together.

Every transformation began with one person refusing to wait for everyone else.

And perhaps civic sense begins the exact same way.

Not with a government.

Not with a campaign.

Not with a viral reel.

But with a single decision that no one else may ever notice.

To leave a place just a little better than you found it.

Maybe the question was never, "Humare ek se kya hoga?"

Maybe it was always, "If not me, then who?"

THANKS FOR READING ✨✨

“A nation's character isn't revealed by its tallest buildings. It's revealed by how its people treat places that belong to everyone."

In my previous essay, I asked a simple question: Does life repeat itself?

The answers I found were fascinating.

Psychology suggested that we often repeat patterns because our brains are wired to seek familiarity. Philosophy challenged me with an even deeper question: If you had to live your life again exactly as it is, would you?

Yet, after reading both, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was still missing.

Then I realized I had been asking the wrong question.

I wasn't trying to understand whether life repeats itself.

I was trying to understand why repetition never feels exactly the same.

The question was never whether life repeats.

It was how.

For centuries, we have imagined life using simple shapes.

Some picture it as a straight line—a journey from birth to death where every step carries us farther from the beginning.

Others imagine it as a circle.

The seasons return.

Birthdays return.

Festivals return.

Even our fears seem to find us again.

From a distance, a circle feels like the perfect metaphor for life.

Everything appears to come back.

Everything appears to begin where it ended.

But the more I observed my own life, the less convinced I became.

A straight line cannot explain why certain lessons keep returning.

A circle cannot explain why we never return as the same person.

Perhaps the problem wasn't life.

Perhaps it was the shape I had been using to understand it.

Psychologists have wrestled with this question too.

In 2006, researchers Yoko Yamada and Yoshinobu Kato proposed The Generative Life Cycle Model, describing a spiral as one way to understand human development. Unlike a circle, a spiral revisits familiar places while continuing to change and grow. It doesn't erase the past.

It builds upon it.

When I first came across that idea, something quietly clicked.

Not because it explained everything.

But because it explained something I had always felt.

Strangely, the spiral doesn't belong only to psychology.

It appears almost everywhere we choose to look.

In nature.

In biology.

Even in the sky above us.

We often imagine the Earth tracing the same path around the Sun every year.

It doesn't.

The Earth's orbit is an ellipse, and while it circles the Sun, the Sun itself is racing through the Milky Way.

We are never returning to exactly the same place in space.

We're returning from a different direction.

Even the universe seems to prefer progress without forgetting where it came from.

Nature has been whispering the same idea all along.

Think about spring.

Every year, it arrives with remarkable certainty.

The trees bloom.

The air softens.

The world begins to look alive again.

From a distance, it feels as though nature is repeating itself.

But it isn't.

The tree is older than it was last spring.

Its roots have grown deeper.

Some branches have disappeared.

New leaves have taken their place.

Every season leaves its mark.

The spring has returned.

The tree has not.

Biology whispers the same truth.

Our bodies are constantly changing. Cells wear out. New ones replace them. Different tissues renew at different rates, but change never truly stops.

The face in yesterday's photograph may look familiar.

Yet beneath the surface, it is already becoming someone physically different.

Familiarity, it turns out, is not the same as sameness.

Perhaps that is why memories feel so strange.

We revisit the same afternoon hundreds of times.

Yet every time we remember it,

we are someone else remembering.

Perhaps our lives move the same way.

Every birthday arrives on the same date,

yet it finds a different version of us.

Every January offers another beginning,

but we begin with memories we didn't have the year before.

Every goodbye reminds us of another goodbye.

Every dream echoes one we once carried.

The moments feel familiar.

We don't.

That was the moment I stopped thinking of life as a circle.

Life isn't a circle.

It's a spiral.

A circle returns to where it began.

A spiral returns carrying invisible luggage.

Memory.

Experience.

Regret.

Gratitude.

Love.

Loss.

Hope.

Every journey leaves us holding something we didn't carry before.

A circle measures distance.

A spiral measures growth.

That realization changed the way I see failure.

When I fail today, I am not standing where I failed yesterday.

I am standing in a familiar place with a different mind.

A different heart.

A different understanding of myself.

The lesson may be familiar.

The person learning it never is.

The same is true of happiness.

Success doesn't feel the same at thirty as it did at fifteen.

Friendship doesn't mean the same thing after betrayal.

Love doesn't feel the same after loss.

The event may look similar from the outside.

The person living through it has already been changed by everything that came before.

Then I noticed something even more interesting.

Life doesn't repeat its moments.

It repeats its questions.

As children, life asks,

Who do you want to become?

As adults, it asks,

Who are you becoming?

And if we are fortunate enough to grow old, it asks one final question.

Who were you all along?

The questions evolve.

So do we.

That is why the answers never stay the same.

Perhaps this is why life feels as though it keeps bringing us back.

Not because time is trapped in a loop.

But because growth is rarely measured by the situations we encounter.

It is measured by the person we have become when we encounter them again.

Historians often say that history doesn't repeat itself.

It rhymes.

Empires rise and fall.

Technology transforms.

Names disappear.

Yet ambition, fear, hope, love, and grief continue to wear new faces.

Perhaps our lives do the same.

Music offers another way of seeing it.

Every chorus returns.

Yet it never feels exactly like the first time.

Not because the melody changed.

But because the verses before it changed us.

By the time the chorus arrives again,

we are no longer the same listener.

Maybe that is what life has been doing all along.

Not repeating moments.

Repeating opportunities.

Another chance to be patient.

Another chance to forgive.

Another chance to be brave.

Another chance to choose differently.

Growth was never about escaping repetition.

Growth is becoming someone who answers old questions in new ways.

That is why I no longer ask,

"Why is this happening to me again?"

Instead, I ask,

"Who am I this time?"

Because that question changes everything.

The greatest proof that life moves forward isn't another birthday.

It isn't another promotion.

It isn't another year disappearing from the calendar.

It is an old fear that no longer controls you.

An old mistake you no longer repeat.

An old wound that no longer decides who you are.

Perhaps that is what maturity really is.

Not reaching a destination.

But returning to familiar places with unfamiliar wisdom.

When I wrote my first essay, I asked,

Does life repeat itself?

I think I finally have my answer.

Not exactly.

Life doesn't ask us to relive the same moment.

It asks whether the same moment would find a different person.

That is the quiet miracle of time.

It doesn't simply carry us forward.

It quietly reshapes the one who is moving.

Perhaps that is why the past sometimes feels so close.

Not because we have returned to it.

But because it is revealing how far we have come.

A circle returns to where it started.

A spiral returns to reveal who it has become.

Maybe time was never drawing circles.

Maybe it was drawing us.

And perhaps...

that has been the shape of time all along.

Thanks for reading Hannah & Khushi ✨ Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support our work.

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You left, and everyone moved on.

The world still greeted every dawn.

The clocks were kind, the skies stayed blue...

Only I still carried you.

I cleared the shelves, erased your name,

Pretended I could do the same.

I changed my habits, city, view...

Still, every road remembered you.

You'd visit in the smallest ways—

A stranger's laugh, familiar phrase.

I'd stop, then smile without a clue...

Certain I'd run into you.

So I blamed love for all these years,

For every silence, all the tears.

I called it missing. Called it true.

I thought it all was you.

Then one ordinary afternoon,

The answer found me all too soon.

I wasn't reaching back for us...

I was reaching back for me.

For the girl who never feared goodbye,

Who never measured every try.

Who wore her heart where all could see,

Before it learned to disagree.

You didn't take my heart away.

It never left that day.

You simply walked out of my life...

And the version of me walked out with you.

So if I ever say, "I miss you,"

Know only half of that is true.

Because the name I've searched for all this time...

Has always been my own.

I used to think life moved in a straight line.

One day follows another. One year replaces the last. We make mistakes, learn from them, and move on.

At least, that's how it's supposed to work.

But the older I get, the more I notice something strange.

People leave jobs because of toxic workplaces, only to find themselves in another one.

Someone swears they'll never fall for the same type of person again, yet months later, they're telling a heartbreak story that sounds painfully familiar.

Students promise themselves they'll never cram the night before an exam again. Then the next exam arrives, and somehow history repeats itself.

The names change.

The places change.

The years change.

Yet the pattern remains.

It made me wonder:

Does life actually repeat itself, or do we?

This isn't a new question. Philosophers, psychologists, and neuroscientists have all tried to answer it in different ways.

Psychology suggests that human beings are creatures of habit. Our brains are constantly searching for patterns because patterns make life easier to navigate. They reduce uncertainty, save mental effort, and help us predict what comes next.

The problem is that our brains don't always distinguish between familiar and healthy.

That's why people often repeat behaviors they promised to leave behind.

Not because they enjoy suffering.

Because the familiar feels safer than the unknown.

There's another phenomenon that has fascinated people for centuries: déjà vu.

Almost everyone has experienced that unsettling moment when a place, a conversation, or a passing second feels oddly familiar, as if it has happened before.

Despite the mystery surrounding it, researchers generally believe déjà vu is related to the brain's memory systems. It isn't considered evidence that time is repeating. Instead, it seems to be a brief mismatch in how our brain processes familiarity.

Yet even after science offers an explanation, the feeling itself remains difficult to ignore.

Then philosophy enters the conversation.

The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche proposed a famous thought experiment called eternal recurrence.

Imagine, he said, that you had to live your entire life again—and again—exactly as it happened.

Every success.

Every regret.

Every ordinary Tuesday.

Not because he believed this literally happens, but because the question reveals something deeper:

Would you be content if this life were the one you had forever?

I find that question more unsettling than comforting.

Because maybe life doesn't need to repeat for it to feel repetitive.

Maybe we create our own loops.

Every habit we refuse to examine.

Every fear we never confront.

Every decision made on autopilot.

Perhaps that's why changing cities doesn't always change our lives.

A new address cannot rewrite old patterns.

A different calendar cannot transform an unchanged mindset.

Sometimes the hardest thing to escape isn't a place.

It's a version of ourselves we've quietly carried everywhere.

So, does life repeat itself?

As far as science can tell, there is no evidence that time loops exist or that our lives literally replay.

But there is overwhelming evidence that human beings repeat habits, emotional responses, and familiar choices.

Maybe that's why life can feel like it's circling back.

Not because the universe is trapped in a loop—

but because we are.

And strangely, I find that hopeful.

Because if the loop is created by our own patterns, then it can also be broken by them.

Perhaps the first step isn't finding a new path.

Perhaps it's noticing the one we've been walking all along.

I don't know if life repeats itself.

But I do know this:

Sometimes the biggest change in our lives doesn't begin with a new opportunity.

It begins with recognizing an old pattern.

I began this article wondering whether life moves in circles.

I'm leaving it with a different question.

What if time has been moving forward all along...

and the only thing standing still

has been us?

Perhaps the greatest loophole in life isn't escaping the cycle.

It's becoming someone the cycle no longer recognizes.

I don't think this question has one right answer.

If you've ever felt like life was moving in circles, I'd love to know why.

Let's continue the conversation below.

There are people time can't erase,

Though years have blurred their name and face.

Not every story asks for an end...

Some simply learn how to pretend.

___

We never promised "you and me,"

No forever carved beneath a tree.

No photographs to look back through...

Yet somehow, I remember you.

___

You came so softly, left the same,

Without a war, without a blame.

No doors were slammed, no hearts were torn...

Just one quiet chapter left unborn.

___

It's strange how little moments start,

Then make a kingdom of your heart.

Some people stay for years unseen...

Others leave, yet haunt your dream.

___

People think that loss begins

The day somebody says goodbye.

I think it starts the very day...

Your heart believes a "you and I."

___

Hope is dangerous that way.

It steals tomorrow from today.

It lets you live a thousand lives...

Before you've lived a single one.

___

I never missed the things we had.

There weren't enough to call them that.

I missed the life we never knew...

The one I quietly built with you.

___

Maybe that's why healing hurts.

It's never only them you lose.

It's every version of yourself...

You only ever were with them.

___

The cruelest stories seldom end.

They simply fade without a sound.

No final page. No closing line.

Just empty spaces all around.

___

If love was measured just by time,

A lifetime would outshine a day.

Then why can one unfinished soul...

Still take my breath so far away?

___

Perhaps not every soul we meet

Is meant to walk beside our feet.

Some only come to softly prove...

The heart can love without being loved.

___

Years from now, I may forget

The color hidden in your eyes.

But I'll remember who I was...

When ordinary days felt like paradise.

___

And if they ask what we became,

I'll smile instead of giving names.

Some stories don't need happy ends...

To stay with us for all our days.

___

Because the deepest kind of love

Isn't always yours to keep.

Sometimes it's simply someone...

Who teaches your heart how deeply it can feel.

So no...

I won't say,

"I wish you were mine."

Because love was never measured

By what we got to keep.

Only by what we became.

And somehow...

You weren't mine.

But you mattered.

We blamed the ones who led the way,

For every promise lost to gray.

They gave us speeches, flags, and pride...

But no one taught us how to decide.

We blamed the world for growing cold,

For loving fame and chasing gold.

We called this generation lost...

As if we weren't part of the cost.

We blamed our parents, quietly.

For every "you'll never be."

They gave us fears they couldn't hide...

Pain travels best when it's disguised.

We blamed the schools we used to know,

For teaching facts we'd never hold.

We learned to answer every test...

Except the questions in our chest.

We blamed the phones inside our hands,

The endless scroll, the borrowed plans.

We watched a thousand people live...

While forgetting we had one life to give.

We blamed the world for being blind.

For choosing noise instead of kind.

We spoke like people meant to heal...

Then walked past wounds that looked too real.

Every conversation ended the same.

Someone else.

Someone else.

Someone else.

Until one day...

There was no one left.

Only a mirror.

And mirrors don't argue.

They simply return the question.

So I asked myself—

How many times did I say,

"Someone should do something..."

while doing nothing?

How many sunsets did I waste

waiting

for a sunrise

someone else was supposed to bring?

Maybe the government failed.

Maybe society did too.

Maybe our parents,

our schools,

our phones,

this whole world...

deserve some of the blame.

But blame has a strange habit.

It points at everyone...

Except the person holding it.

History never changed

because people found

the perfect excuse.

History changed

because one ordinary person

got tired

of waiting

for extraordinary people.

So whose fault is it?

Maybe theirs.

Maybe mine.

Maybe yours.

But here's the truth

I couldn't out run—

The world wasn't waiting for another person to notice what was broken.

It was waiting for someone who would stop walking past it.

Because the saddest thing isn't

that the world is broken.

The saddest thing is

how many good people

mistake noticing the problem

for becoming part of the solution.