Swathi Writes Back!

"Just Another Rainy Evening – A Memory Etched in Time" It was just a normal evening. Heavy rain painted the skies grey and the roads silver. The clouds murmured above like an old lullaby, and there I was – seated by the window, a cup of hot coffee warming my palms, watching the world slow down through the raindrops streaking across the glass. From my room, the view looked so damn beautiful. The kind that makes you pause. The kind that gently tugs at your chest and makes you feel… something. I didn’t know what exactly – maybe peace, maybe longing, or maybe just a deep gratitude for moments like this. It was almost 8:00 PM – supper time. And as usual, I wasn’t alone. There was Priya, Periya (she’s also Priya, but we call her Periya for obvious reasons), and our beloved Abi akka. The four of us headed down to the mess, laughing like we always did – the kind of laughter that echoed off the walls and lingered even after we left. That laughter – pure, unfiltered joy – was th...

That evening, I went back home with a quiet purpose—not to rest, but to prepare. I had to pack, not just my clothes, but a piece of myself. The reason I moved back to my hometown was simple: I needed a new dress. Not for vanity, but for something far more meaningful. In just two days, I was headed to Pondicherry University to present my first academic paper. It wasn’t just a presentation—it was a milestone I had worked towards for years. The thought of it made my heart race with both anxiety and excitement. The past few days hadn’t been kind. A whirlwind of doubts, emotional heaviness , and unexpected challenges had drained me. I wasn’t myself. But the one thing that always lifted me— shopping —was waiting, like a silent therapy I knew would work. The next day, my parents—my pillars—took me out for purchasing. They knew without words that I needed this. It wasn’t about the fabric or the color. It was about reclaiming joy. Walking through aisles, touching textures, visualizing myself...

Before I begin, let me ask you this: How often do we pause and see the soul behind a simple object? How often do we value not the cost of a gift, but the heart that wrapped it? I n a world where materialism is louder than meaning, it's easy to miss the quiet magic hidden in tiny gestures. But sometimes, those little things carry the biggest stories, and leave behind the deepest wounds. Have you ever looked at something tossed away, maybe a wrinkled letter, a fading photograph, or a torn handmade gift, and wondered, “How did it end up here?” We often throw things away, thinking they’ve lost their value. But the truth is, value doesn’t always lie in price tags or packaging. Sometimes, it’s hidden in time, effort, emotion, and the quiet love stitched into the smallest of gestures. This is not just a story about a star made of paper. This is about a girl named Janaa,  a sweet, selfless soul who had nothing for herself, yet everything to give. There was a girl named Janaa,...

To the Soul Who Turned My World into a Canvas of Colors....Happy Birthday, My Dearest Bestie Benita Once upon a chaotic 2019 , the universe looked down at me and thought, “Poor thing, let’s send her someone weird, wonderful, and wildly loyal.” And boom,  you happened. In the year 2019, life decided to write a plot twist in the most unexpected way. I had just completed my UG at Holy Cross College, a place bursting with freedom, festivity, and intellectual fire. When my parents suggested I pursue my postgraduation at Thiagarajar College , Madurai, my heart sank faster than a lecture at 3 p.m. The first time I stepped into that campus, I looked around and whispered to myself, “Am I entering a college or a courtroom?” The grey walls, stern gazes, and ID card obsession gave me courtroom drama vibes, and not the K-drama kind. Still, parents know better, right? They had heard that this was a temple of knowledge. So with half a heart, dragging dreams, and a heavy backpack, I stepped in...

     "Not all heroes wear capes—some bring snacks"      In the bustling halls of Madurai Kamaraj University, among the many faces that pass by every day, there is one figure whose presence leaves a lasting impression, my beloved professor and guide. Medium in height, he carries himself with an effortless elegance that’s impossible to miss. Often dressed in his signature white shirt or the occasional colorful shirt with a distinct Chinese collar, he embodies professionalism with a subtle touch of personal style.      What strikes you first are his eyes, plumpy and kind, always sparkling with a quiet warmth. His oval-shaped face is usually lit up by a smile so genuine, it feels like a personal invitation to trust, to learn, and to grow. And the way he complements his attire with a perfectly matched watch reveals a man who values detail and discipline, yet never at the expense of approachability.      But beyond the surface, it’...

  Maturity hit me like a tonne of bricks  the instant I realised what it meant to be okay.   Maturity slammed into me like a tonne of bricks. The moment I learned that forever is a lie-filled utopia.   Maturity slammed into me like a tonne of bricks. I chose silence over argument at that point.   Maturity slammed into me like a tonne of bricks. I sensed the difference between lonely and alone at the time.   Maturity has hit me like a tonne of bricks. People can only forgive, but they can't forget, I realised.   Maturity crashed into me like a tonne of bricks. I realised the difference between comprehending and realising at that point.   Maturity slammed into me like a bag of bricks. I understood that smiling and being joyful are not the same thing. Maturity slammed into me like a sack of rocks. When I first realised I was pregnant, I was ecstatic. -SWATHI MADHAVAN

We learn from our failures, our incorrect turns, the fake friends we make,  and the times we come close to breaking. Our mistakes help us grow, but we didn't realise it at the time. We didn't want our frailty to be exposed. We couldn't tell them at the time. Our phoney pals were present, but they were unconcerned about our secrets, and now they merely gaze as we pass. You're strong if you don't break. As if you hadn't waited so long to explain yourself, you'd know where you went wrong, but keep strong. So here's to the liars and traitors, all the want tobes and haters,  as well as learning from our mistakes and recognising the fakes. To being a teen, here's to you. Live it up, since we're in the midst of a dream. -SWATHI MADHAVAN

A ffection addiction would reach new heights. B askets of blessings would be spoken aloud. C ompassionate outpourings would obscure the effects of climate change. The    D umbsized depression would vanish. The E phemeral thrill would last forever. The thrill of turning the pages of a book would be F ascinating. Individuality's G lamour would be welcome. A brilliant  H arbinger would be the happiest homosexuals. The stigma of  I lliteracy would find a safe haven. Good times would be sequenced by J ury from the heavens. K ARMA's key would be guarded with extreme caution. The Gender L abel would be gone. M oral principles would be muttered with melody. N urturing nature would be a top priority. The weeds of corruption would be removed by O rchid of orb. P overty would be pissed off, and pollution would be pissed off. It would not be necessary to Q ueue for basic sanitation. R ipples of Rape would undoubtedly vanish. S luscious souls would be bizarre in ever...

I'm in love with you, I'm in love with you. And it's true that I adore you. I'll pass any test you throw at me. It's been a long time coming, several years in fact. With a few sighs and some concerns. But, Oh dear, I've never seen such a beauty! You're a sweetie. It was love at first sight, for sure. Please sympathise with my plight. I believe you will be mine one day. You are my sunshine, my beloved. You are such a lovely sight to behold; you are definitely a treat. Let us travel to a planet or a rainbow. Where would we sow love seeds? On the surface of the moon, There's a small cabin nearby. Some hot dogs with sausage, which I've prepared. My feelings for you, I hope you enjoy it. This is a poem written especially for you, you, you. This is the last, but not the least, paragraph. On the B'day banquet, with vows to join. I only care about you, my darling, because I adore you, you, you, and you. -SWATHI MADHAVAN