Remember when curling up with a book felt like the height of luxury? A cup of tea, a warm blanket, and 300 pages of unadulterated escapism? These days, we’re more likely to be curled up with our phones, scrolling endlessly through Instagram reels, TikToks, or those oddly satisfying cake-cutting videos. The book sits untouched on the bedside table, silently judging us. And you know what? We still don’t pick it up.
Let’s just call it like it is: reading books isn’t bringing us the same joy it used to. And no, it’s not because we’ve all suddenly become uncultured or lazy, it’s because our phones are basically joy slot machines. Flashing lights, colours, sounds, notifications, and that sweet, sweet dopamine hit every time someone likes our post. How’s a humble paperback supposed to compete with that?
So, what’s really going on? Why have we, lovers of stories and beautiful prose, become loyal to the scroll?
Read more: Why We’re Not Reading Books Anymore (And Why Scrolling Feels So Damn Good)
Picture this: You’re clutching your morning coffee, the elixir of life, the very thing keeping you from turning into a grumpy gremlin. Then, out of nowhere, someone bumps into you. Boom! Coffee spills everywhere. Disaster.
Naturally, you curse under your breath, wipe your now caffeine-drenched clothes, and moan, "Why did my coffee spill?!"
Obvious answer? Because someone rudely jolted you.
But here’s the plot twist – that’s actually the wrong answer.
Read more: The Coffee Spill That Exposes What’s Really Inside You!
Ah, divorce. That magical life event that suddenly makes you the villain in your own story, the talk of the town, and the subject of family meetings where your presence is not required. It’s like being the protagonist in a Bollywood drama, except there’s no happy ending, and the aunties are narrating the plot like it's their personal Netflix series.
In close-knit communities or families, especially Indian ones divorce isn’t just the end of a relationship. Oh no, my friend. It’s a social earthquake, a crime against the entire family tree, a scandal bigger than the time someone married outside their caste. Your personal business becomes a joint family project, and the best part? The only people NOT consulted are the ones actually going through it.
Read more: Divorce in a Close-Knit Community: Where Everyone’s a Therapist (Except an Actual One)
Picture this: it’s 3 AM, and instead of peacefully dreaming about lounging on a beach with a cocktail in hand, you’re replaying a conversation from three days ago. Did you sound rude? Did they think you were awkward? Should you send a follow-up text apologising for breathing too loudly?
Welcome to the Overthinking Olympics – a competition where there are no winners, just exhausted minds running endless laps on the track of self-doubt. If overthinking were a sport, many of us would have gold medals and a permanent spot on the podium.
Read more: The Overthinking Olympics: How to Stop Wrestling With Your Own Mind
If I had a $ or £ for every time I heard someone say, "I can't meditate, my mind is too busy," I'd be sipping cocktails on a tropical beach by now. The truth is, meditation isn’t about sitting in perfect stillness, levitating in a mystical trance, or achieving enlightenment overnight. It’s about learning to navigate the chaos of everyday life — burning your toast, leaving the house late because you got distracted (again), and running around like a hamster on a wheel. Life is annoying. But meditation? That’s the pause button you didn’t know you needed.