Aneesha

​Travel can be a transformative experience, but sometimes it is the difficult moments that leave the most lasting impact. I truly believe nothing offers more enlightenment than a train journey; in fact, I started blogging as a direct result of one. ​Last week, I traveled to Kasaragod with my father. It was a peaceful trip in a sleeper coach , where I even managed two hours of undisturbed sleep. However, the return journey to Kozhikode (Calicut) was a Herculean task—especially traveling in a General Ladies' compartment with my mother and sister. ​Initially, I stood for a while before finding a seat. Shortly after, a mother entered with her child. I held her six-year-old daughter to help them out, and my own mother gave up a small portion of her seat so they could sit—even though my mom could barely find enough space for herself. ​As the hour passed, the rush intensified until it became difficult to breathe. Just as I was nearing my station, another passenger began experiencing a b...

 Sometimes I feel there is a glitch in my mindset. I tell myself it’s better to be alone, yet the solitude hits me with a weight I can’t carry. I have friends, but the silence between us feels intentional. Aside from Farhana and Ishal , my phone remains quiet, leaving me to the mercy of my own company. ​I don’t know if this is trauma or if I’m simply living in the ghost of my past . I used to be an extrovert , a ' borderline exceptional case ' in college, but now I’ve retreated into an introversion I never asked for. I find myself calling friends 24/7, not because I have much to say, but because I am haunted by the silence. I am terrified of being an attention-seeker, yet I am starving for care. ​There is a specific kind of pain in being the ' scarecrow '—darkly existing in the light while everyone else is busy taking pictures and capturing moments. I am there, but I don’t belong. The most painful part? The carelessness people show toward missed calls. I could never i...