I am sitting inside an auto rickshaw in Mumbai, wishing I could forever sit inside it without ever stepping out. Jump the signals, drive fast, and take me to my destination. Of course, the driver doesn't listen. So I get down. I am taking a flight back home. At the security check, the cop can see me already dreading life without internet for the next two hours. I don't have the strength to entertain my own thoughts anymore. It's okay. I will be home by the end of it. Just a matter of a few hours, I convince myself. Home. Or a couple of decades. Whichever is faster.
Hi Vishal, Love your piece as always. The part about how childhood will never be the same as it was will never be unrelatable for me. I feel the second hand sadness through your writings.
I also have a similar writing style and sadness. I have published a couple of pieces on substack itself and more on Instagram. I'm sure of providing you with enough depression for writing another piece the same you read my pieces. :)
Whenever I'm sad I read your blogs ...and it just makes me more sad ........
That uproot thing was 👌👌
I come back to read this everytime I want to hear my own thoughts framed well
You are an absolute gem 💎. I read your story last year about a man. It just blew my mind.
Woww..
How beautifully written!!
Some good realisationss......
Hi Vishal, Love your piece as always. The part about how childhood will never be the same as it was will never be unrelatable for me. I feel the second hand sadness through your writings.
I also have a similar writing style and sadness. I have published a couple of pieces on substack itself and more on Instagram. I'm sure of providing you with enough depression for writing another piece the same you read my pieces. :)
wonderer's wonder
This is definitely thought provoking. Such a treat to read this.