Thoughts & Tales of tpSphR

Joining Navodaya in Class 6 was a mix of excitement, nervousness, and countless new experiences. Coming from home to a hostel environment was a big change, but the bonds I formed and the incidents I experienced made it one of the best phases of my life. Among the many unforgettable memories, one particular incident stands out—a moment of pure embarrassment, kindness, and unexpected hilarity. Meeting My ‘Mausi’ in Navodaya When I first entered Navodaya, everything felt new—the hostel, the routine, the people. I didn’t know many seniors, but there was one person from my neighborhood who was in Class 12. I called her Mausi out of respect, and she genuinely cared for me. Every time she saw me, she would check up on me, ask about my well-being, and make sure I was adjusting well to hostel life. One fine day, she called me near her hostel. As a junior, I always listened to her, so I went without thinking much. But what happened next is something I could have never predicted! "Do You Eve...

School life is a treasure trove of memories, and for those of us who had the privilege of studying in a Navodaya school, it was nothing short of magical. Every moment spent within those walls is still imprinted in my mind, engraved deep in my heart. The hostel life, the pranks, the friendships, and even the discipline – everything was an experience in itself. Among the countless memories I cherish, there are a few incidents that always bring a smile to my face. Some are mischievous, some hilarious, and some even life-changing. Today, I want to share a couple of such unforgettable moments that happened during my hostel days. The Principal’s Spy Game Our beloved Principal Sir had a unique habit—whenever he went on hostel rounds, he never directly entered the dormitory. Instead, he acted like a detective, first peeking through the windows to see what the boys were up to. He would observe silently, gathering evidence in his mind, and only then would he enter through the front door. His sig...

Life is full of different kinds of people—some bring joy, some bring challenges, and some come disguised as well-wishers but are, in reality, nothing more than energy-draining impostors. Have you ever encountered someone who appears incredibly sweet in front of you, just like a "Rasgulla"—full of warmth and kindness—but the moment you turn your back, they turn into "Karela," bitter and harmful? Although karela (bitter gourd) is beneficial for health, these kinds of people are anything but healthy for your mental well-being and personal growth. I, like many others, have had my fair share of encounters with such people. They pretend to be your well-wishers, but deep down, they cannot tolerate your success. Instead of supporting you, they secretly envy you, gossip about you, and hope for your downfall. These individuals only keep you in their lives as long as they can benefit from you. Once their work is done, they will discard you like a used tissue. The sad reality i...

As I scroll through reels and shorts on Instagram and YouTube, I often come across inspiring interviews and thought-provoking discussions. Recently, I stumbled upon a podcast featuring actor Shahid Kapoor, where he shared his views on judging people based on their struggles. He emphasized that not everyone starts their journey from the same place—some have advantages due to their family background, financial security, or social status. Because of this, we cannot judge people on equal grounds or criticize someone without understanding the context of their journey. This statement resonated deeply with me. In recent times, I have personally witnessed similar instances where people have been quick to pass judgment without knowing the full story. I have heard conversations where individuals talk about someone’s failures without acknowledging their relentless hard work. I see people struggling every day, putting in their best efforts, yet failing to achieve the success they aspire to. And d...

Sometimes, I wonder how our fates are intertwined. When I look back at our past, I find similarities that still connect us in unexpected ways. We have both struggled, faced failures, and yet, here we are—still standing, still trying to figure out where life is taking us. I now understand how you feel about everything because I, too, have walked a similar path. They say our decisions shape our destiny, and perhaps what we are facing today is a result of the choices we made in the past. It’s strange to think how we first met at the hospital during a medical check-up—that memory is still imprinted in my mind. I remember how we became friends, and how seeing a familiar face when we got admitted to school brought me comfort. Even though we weren’t placed in the same house, I was just happy to be in the same class as you. As time passed, we made new friends, and our bonds grew stronger. But isn’t it fascinating how we always seemed to have a crush on the same girls? I sometimes wonder—was ...

Lately, I have been quieter than usual. It’s not because I have nothing to say but because I fear that if I speak, I might say something wrong or behave in a way that I later regret. This fear has taken root in me over time, fueled by a series of unfortunate events where every effort I made seemed to work against me rather than in my favor. I have been angry—not at others, but at myself. This anger reflects in my words, in my behavior, and in my interactions, even when I don't intend it to. And I don’t like that about myself. Surrounding me are people—some who uplift me, encourage me, and support me. But there are also those who demotivate me, discourage me, and constantly offer unsolicited advice that I neither need nor appreciate. Unfortunately, negativity often overshadows positivity. It’s a harsh reality of life. You can do a hundred good things, but one mistake is what people will remember. In my attempt to prove these people wrong, I have sometimes made impulsive choices—c...

Sometimes, I wonder—am I sharing too much? Is it okay to open up this much about myself? These thoughts often cross my mind, but the moment I start writing, I feel lighter. Someone once advised me that if I struggle with overthinking, anxiety, or depression, writing things down might help. And you know what? They were right. Writing has become my escape, my therapy, my way of making sense of everything that swirls inside my head. The moment I put my thoughts into words, a certain weight lifts off my shoulders. I no longer care about who is judging me because those who truly understand will know why I write. In the end, “Kuchh to log kahenge, logon ka kaam hai kehna.” So why should I let unnecessary worries steal my peace? I now write freely—whatever random thoughts come to my mind, whatever past experiences resurface, whatever incidents keep replaying in my head. Sometimes, a memory is triggered by meeting someone, or a recent event takes me back in time. And honestly? I find it fasc...

Till now, you have read all the good stories about my life—filled with beautiful experiences, happy moments, and positive feelings. But life isn't always sunshine and rainbows. Some chapters are painful, disturbing, and life-altering. Today, I want to share one such chapter with you. I hope you will read it without judgment. It all started with love. My first love. Everything was perfect—great conversations, beautiful meet-ups, and moments that felt like a dream. But there was a challenge: distance. We were in a long-distance relationship, and in the beginning, we handled it well. But as months passed, something changed. She started ignoring me, our conversations felt forced, and her behavior became distant. I couldn’t understand why. I kept asking myself: What went wrong? Why is she acting this way? Then, one day, I got my answer. She told me she liked someone else and wanted to be with him. She wanted to break up. I was shattered. I begged her not to leave, traveled to her city t...

There comes a time when no matter how hard we try, things just don’t seem to fall into place. I have given my best—again and again—yet the results remain the same. The weight of repeated failures, unanswered questions, and unexpressed emotions keeps pulling me down. I’ve reached out to family, friends, and every possible person I thought could understand, but somehow, my struggle remains unheard. I never imagined that one day I would feel this lost. I have always believed that perseverance leads to success, but what happens when the path ahead remains unclear despite all efforts? When you keep fighting but don’t see a way forward? The hardest part isn’t just the problem itself—it’s feeling like no one truly understands. I explain, I express, I reach out, but the responses don’t resonate with the depth of what I’m going through. And slowly, self-doubt creeps in. The confidence I once had fades away, leaving behind uncertainty and exhaustion. I know I’m not alone in this feeling. Many of...

You might wonder why I write so much, why I pour my thoughts onto this blog instead of just saying them out loud. Well, here’s the truth—writing is my safe space. It’s my way of expressing myself, my emotions, and my thoughts, without the fear of being misunderstood or misinterpreted. I’m the kind of person who feels more at ease putting feelings into words on paper (or a screen) rather than speaking them out loud. Why? Because I have this fear—fear that if I try to explain my emotions verbally, I might say something wrong or use harsh words that I don’t truly mean. Spoken words, once uttered, can’t be taken back, and sometimes, in the heat of the moment, they don’t come out the way you intend. But when I write, it’s different. I have the time to process my emotions, choose the right words, and ensure my message is clear and heartfelt. Writing allows me to express myself in a way that feels honest and thoughtful, without the pressure or anxiety that comes with face-to-face conversation...

As a child, I always had an immense love for dogs. I found them to be the most loyal, adorable creatures. My biggest wish back then was to keep a dog as a pet, but my mom was never on board with the idea. She had her own reasons, and no matter how much I tried to convince her, she stood firm. Yet, that didn’t stop me from bringing stray puppies home whenever I found one on the road. But every time, it ended the same way—with me getting scolded and the puppy being sent back. Growing up, I thought I’d never have the chance to have a dog. But life is full of surprises. One fine day, after returning from the office, I saw a small basket placed in front of me. Inside were two tiny puppies—a crossbreed of German Shepherds. My sister had brought them all the way from Delhi! My eyes sparkled with joy. I couldn’t believe it! My mom, who was so against having dogs before, seemed okay with it now, and I finally had the chance to keep dogs as pets. I named them "RONNIE & JONNIE", bro...

“Why do you stay awake so late?” This is a question I’m often asked, and to be honest, I don’t have a definite answer. Perhaps it’s because of the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind during these quiet hours. Tonight is one such night. Random thoughts keep surfacing, so I decided to pen them down. You might remember me mentioning a naming ceremony I attended recently for a friend’s daughter. Something happened that day that left me thinking about the bonds we shared in school and how they’ve changed over time. One of my friends brought up how we, as Navodians, never discriminated against one another on the basis of caste, color, creed, or religion. Back in school, we lived like a family. We ate together, celebrated every festival together, and truly embodied “unity in diversity.” Navodaya was a place where differences didn’t divide us—they enriched us. But then, the conversation took me down memory lane to a few classmates who weren’t exactly like this. While we were in school...

Promises carry a weight of love, trust, and commitment, and fulfilling them often leads to beautiful memories. This is a story of how I kept a promise to someone special—a journey filled with excitement, nervousness, and unforgettable moments. The Beginning: A Promise to Meet It all started with a heartfelt promise. I had shared a magical moment with her—our first kiss and hug—and I assured her that I would come to meet her someday. That "someday" finally arrived when she asked me to visit her. Without hesitation, I agreed. Though her home was quite far from where I was staying Haldwani, I was determined to keep my word. To make it happen, I booked an evening train from Haldwani to her place, knowing I’d reach there early the next morning. I had taken leave from work, and as I boarded the train, a wave of excitement and anticipation washed over me. Traveling alone, I spent the journey thinking about how the day would unfold. Early Morning Arrival The train pulled into the sta...

Life has this uncanny way of throwing certain people our way who make you wonder, “Why on earth do I have to deal with this?” We’ve all had those encounters with individuals who seem to bring nothing but confusion, annoyance, or outright stupidity into our lives. Recently, I had one such experience that left me fuming, and it made me think about how, sometimes, we really just don’t need to engage with certain people. So, there’s this guy from school. Well, not exactly a friend, more like a classmate who’s always existed in the background of my life. He’s the kind of guy who sticks around, but you never really form a connection. We recently ran into each other at a naming ceremony for my friend’s daughter, and, of course, as life would have it, he had to make things awkward. He started by questioning my name—yes, my name. Apparently, he thought my name was different before, and out of nowhere, he asked, “Why is your name this now? It was something else before, right?” At that moment, I ...

Love can be a beautiful, confusing, and sometimes painful journey. I’ve had my share of stories, and though none of them reached the final bond that I hoped for, each experience has taught me something. Maybe it’s my mistakes, maybe it’s just not in my luck, but the more I chased love, the more distant it seemed to get. And in time, I started to wonder if that was just my fate. As I reflect on these moments, I realize that maybe love isn’t just about finding someone else—it’s about learning to love yourself first. I’m not sure why, but I've always been the overthinking type, second-guessing myself, doubting my worth, and sometimes even feeling like I don’t deserve the love I’m looking for. It's a constant cycle of confusion, uncertainty, and lack of confidence. You might wonder why I’m so caught up in these things, but to be honest, I don't always know either. It's just something I’ve carried with me for years, and I guess it's shaped how I approach relationships. B...

Isn’t it fascinating how some connections can feel deeper and more meaningful than even those of blood relations? Friendships, bonds, and even fleeting encounters can often be more rooted in understanding, respect, and love than many familial ties. I’ve had my own share of such experiences that have taught me a lot about relationships, jealousy, and human nature. Here’s one such memory from my school days that’s still vivid in my mind. It was 2005, and I was in 9th grade, preparing for an inter-school cultural competition. Our school had decided to perform a drama, and I was part of the group. The big day arrived, and we were all set to travel to Lucknow for the event. Among the group, there was a girl who was two grades junior to me—soft-spoken, sweet, and genuinely kind-hearted. Over the course of the trip, we had plenty of time to talk, and it was during these conversations that we got to know each other better. She looked at me and said, “You’re like my brother,” and I felt this se...

Back in 2004, when I was in 8th grade at Navodaya, life in a boarding school was always full of adventures. Rules were strict, permissions were rare, and a sense of mischief was always in the air. One fine Sunday, a few friends and I decided to go on an unforgettable escapade—stealing guavas from a neighboring garden about a kilometer away from our school. The plan was simple: no permission, no boundaries. After all, the warden would never approve of such a misadventure. Around six or seven of us sneaked out, crossing the school boundary, a field, and a small jungle to reach the garden. For me, it was my first time joining such a "mission," though the others were seasoned fruit thieves. As soon as we reached the garden, we treated ourselves to some sugarcane before getting to the main attraction—the guavas. Just when we thought we were invincible, the unexpected happened. A guard, along with a few helpers, spotted us and immediately recognized us as the infamous guava thieves...

Have you ever noticed the initials at the bottom of my pages? They may seem small, even insignificant, but for me, they hold a world of meaning. My signature isn’t just a name written down—it’s a piece of my soul, a mark that tells a story. The way I write my name it’s not random. It means something about the initial of #tpSphR. And about the signature every stroke is deliberate, a reflection of who I am and the moments that shaped me. Whenever I create my signature, I feel like I’m engraving something permanent. A promise, a memory, a part of me that will never fade. There’s a sense of irony in this permanence. Life changes constantly—people, circumstances, even the things we once held close can drift away. Yet, my signature remains. It’s a snapshot of a version of me, frozen in time. When I was younger, I believed in forever. I thought the things I loved and the people I cared about would stay the same. Childhood has a way of making dreams feel tangible, almost like they’re guara...

You know, sometimes I wonder—when you're reading my blogs, do you think to yourself, "Wow, this person is a little crazy"? Or maybe, "How can someone overthink so much?" Because honestly, I can’t control this constant flood of thoughts. Every second, there's a new, random idea popping into my head, and I can’t resist writing it all down here. Earlier, I was terrified of sharing my thoughts in public. Truthfully, I still am. But now, I'm sharing them with you. And if I’m sharing all this with you, then believe me—you must be special in some way. Either you’re close to me, or you linger somewhere in my thoughts. I think you understand what I’m trying to say, right? Do you ever feel this way? Like your mind is always buzzing with weird, unnecessary, or irrelevant thoughts? Sometimes I wonder why I think about the things I do. And then there are moments when life teaches you hard lessons. Have you ever given your all to someone—your time, your energy, your e...

Did you ever feel like some people are doing something for you or offering advice, thinking they’re doing the right thing for you, but in reality, their actions or suggestions are completely off the mark? Instead of truly helping, what they’re doing might even add to your problems, leaving you feeling misunderstood or unsupported. I often think about this and can’t help but wonder why people behave this way. Are they being extra caring, or are they just eager to give a solution without fully understanding the situation? This is a curious phenomenon we encounter in relationships, friendships, and even in professional settings. Someone sees you struggling or perceives you need help, and they jump in with a solution. But instead of taking the time to empathize, to listen, or to understand the deeper layers of the situation, they hastily offer what they think is best. More often than not, their actions and advice reflect their own mindset, experiences, and biases rather than your actual ne...

Here I am, sitting amidst the hustle and bustle of my cousin’s wedding ceremony, typing this blog to distract myself from the monotony of the event. Weddings are supposed to be all fun and laughter, but sometimes, they test your patience—especially when you’re stuck in the groom’s convoy, crawling through the streets like a never-ending procession. But let me tell you about the hilariously chaotic start to my day, which I’m sure will make you chuckle. This evening, I did something I rarely do—I drove my car. Driving isn’t my forte; I don’t do it often and tend to feel a bit hesitant behind the wheel. Still, I mustered up the courage, took charge, and drove my sisters to the wedding. The journey was smooth (thankfully), but the real adventure began when we neared the wedding destination. None of us had the exact location pinned, and in our infinite wisdom, we decided to follow some vague directions. With all the confidence in the world, we pulled up to a grand venue that looked perfect ...

In the ocean of my thoughts, I find myself floating, questioning, and seeking. Am I truly connected to the people I once loved being close to? Or have I drifted so far away that building a bridge back feels impossible? Over the past two years, I’ve distanced myself—enough to feel the void but not enough to understand why. Is it me? Is it the world? Or is it simply the passing of time eroding bonds I thought were unbreakable? I think that void is always filled with something. It acts everywhere—in relationships, in places. Nothing is truly void; it is rare to see and feel a void that asks to be filled by itself. When you are not available somewhere, that place becomes available for someone else, and it gets filled by them. No matter how hard you try later, you may not reclaim that place again. An existential crisis looms over me like a shadow, growing darker as the days pass. I’ve begun questioning everything: my connections, my choices, even my very existence. The world around me fe...

Lying in bed this morning, with a blissful holiday granted by the municipal elections in my area, I found myself wandering down memory lane. This quiet moment led me to think about my passion for writing—a passion that has lived within me for years but often remained hidden. In the past, I poured my emotions onto pages—hundreds of them. Those words, though deeply personal, were never meant for the world to see. They were raw, unfiltered, and centered around my own fears, guilt, and emotions. Eventually, I erased them, thinking they were too vulnerable to share. But here I am again, writing and sharing this time. The shift from keeping my thoughts private to exposing them to the world has been both thrilling and intimidating. Some people, when they read my words, express disbelief: "Is this really you? Did you write this?" Their astonishment both humbles and amuses me. Yes, it’s me. I might seek guidance here and there, but the soul of these words is my own. And yet, a new fea...

In my previous blog, I shared a couple of incidents from our school days that brought back so many memories. I wanted to write more about us, but my hands gave up midway. Now that I’m feeling fine, I thought I’d continue where I left off and share a few more stories that have stayed with me. One day, I was in the volleyball ground, just another routine day, when you came along with someone and asked me for help. You needed to record a song on a cassette for your performance. At that moment, a wave of mixed emotions hit me. I was a little angry, and not entirely without reason. Back in the hostel, the boys often talked, saying things like, "She only remembers you when she needs something." Their words were echoing in my mind as you asked for my help. Instead of brushing it off, I let my irritation slip out. I asked you if you had approached some of the guys you were rumored to like for help before coming to me. It wasn’t fair to say that, and I knew it the moment the words lef...

Sometimes, I feel like I’m at odds with myself—a constant battle between my emotions and my thoughts. I often wonder if it’s normal to feel the way I do or if there’s something unusual about it. I find myself being an overly emotional, overthinking person. Small things pinch me deeply, and most of the time, the other person doesn’t even realize what has struck me so hard in a conversation. From that moment, my mind begins to spiral, replaying the situation endlessly, overanalyzing every word, every nuance. This aspect of my personality feels like both a gift and a burden. On the one hand, I’m someone who loves deeply, cares unconditionally, and goes the extra mile in every relationship. Whether it’s love, care, or affection, I give it all—always in abundance. But this same intensity becomes my weakness when things go wrong. If someone betrays me or does something negative against me, I find myself slipping into a different mode entirely—a place of revenge and retaliation. This is the...

Overthinking often feels like a battle—a battlefield where I stand as both the winner and the loser. My mind is a restless warrior, constantly at war with itself, dissecting the past, present, and even imaginary futures. This afternoon, while traveling to Rudrapur to attend the naming ceremony of a friend’s daughter, a song stirred a cascade of memories. As I played a playlist on YouTube Music, the song "Gori Teri Aankhen Kahein Tu Raat Bhar Soyi Nahi" began. That melody was a time machine, transporting me straight back to my school days. I vividly remembered how this song was your favorite back then. I often heard you singing it. I still recall one particular day on the kho-kho ground. The seniors asked you to sing a song, and you confidently chose this one. Your voice filled the air, captivating everyone around, but for me, it was so much more than that. You were my first school crush, and I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You often tease me now about my schoolboy staring ha...

Night is a time when silence takes over, and thoughts echo louder than ever. For an overthinker, this silence can be both a blessing and a curse. On some nights, it's a nightmare—loneliness amplifies the whispers of doubts and worries. But then, there are nights when memories of the past bring warmth and a strange comfort. One of my most cherished memories takes me back to my school days at Navodaya , a place that shaped me in ways words cannot completely capture. A boarding school like Navodaya is not just a place of education; it becomes a home, and the people there, your family. I spent seven unforgettable years in Navodaya, a journey filled with laughter, learning, challenges, and friendships that etched themselves into my heart forever. While most of us cherished those moments, a few struggled to embrace the boarding life. But for me, it was nothing short of magical. Among all the memories, the one that stands out the most is the last day . It’s funny how goodbyes hold so m...

Lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, I find myself stuck in the endless loop of a Sunday night. The day felt like a void—filled with nothingness. Sundays have become this routine of sleeping all day or aimlessly watching something, with no real purpose. And now, as sleep evades me, my overthinking mind takes charge, dragging me into the labyrinth of the past. I find myself recalling a special chapter of my school days—a crush who remains a dear friend to this day. Back in school, I was smitten. My gestures were pure yet silly, like leaving a rose on her desk every day, even though she didn’t like it. She’d throw it away, and I’d pick it up, saving the petals between the pages of my books, as if preserving memories. After school, life brought us to Haldwani, a charming city where we pursued our studies. She lived there with her brother, and we often visited her place on Sundays or whenever we felt like catching up. Sometimes, we’d have dinner at her place, and on rare occasions, I’d...

Late night, while watching Sarfira, I found myself deeply resonating with the character Vir. His short temper and inability to control his words in moments of anger mirrored something unsettlingly familiar—my own struggle with anger issues. Like Vir, I’ve often found myself losing control in the heat of the moment, saying things I don’t mean, and later regretting the damage done. This lack of restraint has cost me dearly. Relationships have been strained, opportunities lost, and even my professional life has taken hits because of my inability to keep my anger in check. It’s a part of me that I’ve come to acknowledge as a weakness—one I desperately want to overcome. Over the years, I’ve tried countless methods to tame this inner storm. I’ve immersed myself in YouTube videos on anger management, practiced yoga, recited mantras, and even turned to gemstones, hoping they might bring some balance. Yet, despite my efforts, progress feels elusive. I often wonder what it is inside me that trig...