authors
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In a world increasingly defined by visibility, authenticity and performance are becoming harder to tell apart. Behaviors once rooted in personal preference now seem shaped by how well they can be presented—and rewarded—online. We don’t just do things anymore. We broadcast them. Much of modern life feels like it’s lived on a public stage. Social
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Picture this: you walk into a room full of women. Before you’ve even said a word, you notice the glances—one scanning your outfit, another silently sizing up your confidence, and someone else whispering to the woman next to her. Suddenly, you feel like you’re under a microscope, not celebrated but scrutinized. Have you ever been
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By now, I think it’s safe to say that you and I, dear readers, have gotten pretty close. We’ve laughed, reflected, and shared so much together, and it feels like the right time to let you in on something even more personal. So here goes—today, I’m sharing my very first love letter with you! Yep,
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A few days ago, I sat down to watch Superman. Now, you’d expect me to be raving about the action sequences, the visual effects, or the Lois-Clark romance. But here’s the funny thing—what really blew me away wasn’t the superpowers or the world-building. It was the incorporation of journalism. Yes, journalism. The movie didn’t just show
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I have been meaning to talk about something that’s been brewing online (and offline) for a while now: the subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) rivalry between Millennials and Gen Z. You’ve seen the memes, the think pieces, the TikToks. But the real question is, why do Millennials often act like they’re the “superior generation”? Now, this
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Home is where I always love to come back.A place that makes me comfortableA place where I share my happiness and sorrows with my loved onesMy home defines who I am—Vibha Batra. Home is a familiar space with my touches of my likes & dislikes, the warmth of loved ones, a place where I can be free to be totally myself,
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There’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately—something that quietly nags at me whenever I scroll through Bookstagram, walk into a bookstore, or overhear a conversation about “must-read” books. Why do we, as Indian readers, get so much more excited about Western authors than our own? Don’t get me wrong—I adore reading global literature.

