The Anatomy of Lockdown Loneliness

Photo of pale wilting plant with a brick wall in the background
At the end of three months of lockdown, I found myself on my bed, unable to move. My body was functional but something prevented me from getting out of my bed. There seemed to be enough space, yet I could feel...

Dear Mumma, I Am Not A Bad Girl!

Editors' Note: Namrata writes on her journey to healing from narcissistic parenting. Everyone is unique and her method of healing may not work for others. We would also like to issue a trigger warning for there may be some content here which...

Jade

Painting by Edward Hopper showing a woman in a red dress leaning forward to look out of a large bay window of a house, towards a field of yellow grass with a grove of trees in the background and blue sky with a few white clouds overhead. The woman is small against the house and the landscape.
One of my kindergarten classmates is a middle-aged woman whom I will call Jade. She presents a childlike quirkiness that goes back to the dawn of my memory. This often extends to disruptive actions, like refusing to pay her bills for...

Alzheimer’s, Amma and I

One November day, Amma locked the house and went out. There was nothing strange in this as this was something that she did often. An independent woman like she had been, Amma was used to managing home and her professional world for...

When you’re very, very tired, you can’t throw your tired away

Description: In a room with yellow walls, a young person with short hair wearing a sleeveless white top sits at a desk and types on their laptop. Plants grow outside windows.
This essay is written by Urvashi Bahuguna and was originally published on Skin Stories here. ‘Why do I always hear you saying you’re tired?’ asks my mother. Trace the word tired back to its roots and you will discover it...

Climbing Through the Tunnel: My Journey in a Medical Coaching Institute

As coaching becomes a trend in India, thousands of students are getting themselves enrolled in coaching institutes. However, with that, comes a stream of psychosocial problems that have been consistently ignored. These institutes tend to handpick a few 'intelligent' students, create a...

My family colluded to have me put in a mental health facility. This is the story of how I survived.

This essay was originally published on Skin Stories here. He is advancing towards me with a huge injection. In my peripheral vision, I am aware of a cage in the corner of the room, painted dark green. It...

The Mystery of My Missing Years

This one time I had gone to receive a vaccination for Hepatitis B. I was 8 years of age and the eldest in the doctor's waiting room. I was consoling my cousin and two other random kids while the doctor was administering...

At the worst time of my life, I found the warm embrace of an open book

This essay was originally published on Skin Stories here. Ever had moments in the past that, when you revisit today, make your muscles tighten and your heart race? Ones that feel heavy and overpowering even years later?

Shouldering Scars — by Manjiri Indurkar

Sketchy image of seated woman in a sleeveless top in a mostly black frame. Doodles of foliage in red emerging from and around her shoulders.
This post was originally published on Firstpost as Shouldering Scars: PTSD can Manifest in Mysterious Ways as this Author Found __ The sadness, said Van Gogh on hisdeathbed to whoever was listening,will last forever.*On both...