Great mountains echoed her mellifluous little voice intimidatingly. 

Unfazed by their gargantuan dimensions, her little feet stumbled on. 

Lacunae emerged in an attempt to tug her into their eerie depths.

Light-footedly, she laughed them off and soared to greater heights. 

Young and tired, yet headstrong and determined.

‘Barriers are only barriers if you see them as barriers’, she reminded herself everyday. 

“Impractical dreams and poorly architectured sand castles in the air…” 

Life was hard when you chose to stray from the uninspired, uninspiring throngs.

Lofty mountains bowed down to the loftier soul as she clambered on with her rusty crutches. 

Years ago, her limbs had rendered her disabled, but today her heart rendered her able.


Procrastination 101.

I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of posts on the Internet on how to beat procrastination. But here, for the first time ever, is the opportunity to learn how to procrastinate effectively from a certified expert. 

Follow the below steps to screw up all your future exams and entirely waste your life. Because YOLO. 🙃


Take a five minute nap every time you finish studying a paragraph and wake up 100 years later. 10/10 would recommend. Results guaranteed. 


Arrange all your colour pencils in descending order of height. Double check. Triple check, because what if you’re wrong??!! Get frustrated with your life and destroy this arrangement. Then arrange them in ascending order because who doesn’t like adventures?? :)))


Beat up your inflatable penguin mercilessly. Then apologise to it and spend at least an hour having a deep, soulful conversation with it. If you don’t own an inflatable penguin, go shopping. Spend as much time as you need to, because what’s the rush? It’s not like you have things to accomplish in life. 


Look for useless activities that your anatomy textbook offers you. Turn your house upside down in search of a pair of scissors. Construct a model of the middle ear with utmost precision. And then put it away. Don’t even dream of studying the middle ear to gain some context because then you might gain knowledge. Sheesh, what kind of a procrastinator would that make you? 


Spend hours on whatsapp talking to people about how unproductive you’ve been. Open the class group and give suggestions to improve the food served in the mess even though you’re a day scholar and hardly ever eat the mess food. Spend some more time telling some more people about how you can’t study, close whatsapp and then waste some more time. (You need to tell them the same thing again later, don’t you?)


Download a Crossword app that has 7455 words to be unlocked, and keep unlocking puzzles simply because there’s absolutely nothing of value you can gain! :)))


Find a nice, scenic spot to study- preferably by the window. Of course, you should spend at least an hour in search of this spot. Bring all your books and settle down. Then, close your books, open the window and look outside for a year or two. Finals? What finals? 


 Realise that you just can’t be productive at home and come to terms with it. Head to college to study. Travel for an hour to get there. Make a little progress. Head out for a ‘short’ coffee break with your friends, whom you haven’t seen in a while. Take an hour to decide what to order, spend an hour consuming your order and another hour after to allow your order to get digested. But hey, who said you didn’t learn anything? You’re up-to-date on all the gossip in your college. Head back to college, realise it’s time for lunch. Spend hours in the mess. Realise it’s time to head home. Spend another hour on the bus back home. Good job! 


Download a lot of new books on your phone. Convince yourself that you’ll read only one chapter a day, provided you study as much as you intended to. Start by reading the chapter. Read another chapter. One more. Meh, you’ve cheated anyway, another six won’t hurt. Finish three books in three days. Why stop there? Um, what is anatomy though??


Make/ read long detailed blogposts on how to procrastinate effectively. This one is self-explanatory, really. 

Congratulations procrastinator! You just wasted five minutes of your life reading this post. Go waste some more time now- the sky is the limit!!!

Now this post is going to end the way any good horror movie does. That single line that flashes across your television screen and scares the sleep right out of your system. 

“Based on a true story”.


‘Can you honestly say that you’re satisfied with where you are right now?’ When I tell you that this question emerged from my thirteen-year-old cousin, you will probably wonder why a boy fresh into his teenage would ask such a profound question. But in some ways, this boy has always been a little too old for his age. 

A little context. We were on the subject of my sister’s achievements. Now, my sister is one of those geniuses who achieves pretty much everything she sets her mind to. She’s hard-working to a fault and her brain belongs in a museum. In short, she’s the epitome of brilliance. I’ve always admired her for it and looked up to her to no end. Her victories make me just as happy as they make her. 

People always assume there’s an untold version of this story, though. They assume I have a thickly veiled sense of inadequacy as a consequence of her sheer brilliance. Myriad souls have probed and pried to discover this inadequacy whose existence they’re so certain of. I’ve always found it amusing. 

‘After all the hard work you did, you got a rank in the 40s in your entrance exam. Are you honestly satisfied with that?’ He went on to ask, expecting some dramatic sob story to emerge in reply. 

‘Yes,’ I said matter-of-factly. No second thoughts. Years of deep questioning had prepared me for this moment. But he couldn’t let it go so easily, now could he? There has to be more to it. 

‘But at the end of it, who will they remember? You or her? It’ll always be her they talk about.’ I couldn’t help but smile at his innocent honesty. Not everyone would speak their mind out like that. 

‘Her,’ I said. ‘But how do they matter. Who are they?’ I didn’t bother giving him further justifications, because I didn’t feel the need to defend myself or my beliefs. 

Did I work as hard as she did? No, I didn’t. 

If I had worked as hard as she did, would I have made it to my dream college? Probably not. 

Did I work as hard as I was capable of? No, I did not. And it’s this fact that left me in tears the day JIPMER results came out. It wasn’t anything to do with comparison; it was more out of disappointment in myself because of what I should have done but didn’t. 

Am I happy with where I am? Yes. My college may not be AIIMS or JIPMER, but it’s still one of the top few in the country. I did work, though I didn’t work enough. And I got here solely as a result of the work I put in, and that’s something nobody can take away from me. My sister helped me out so much. She motivated me, guided me, reassured me, and stood by me through those scary two years. She’s my best friend and my mentor, not my competition. 

I’m so glad that I’ve reached a stage in my life where I can honestly say that I’m content and secure. I find the concept of insecurities silly- what good can ever come of them? There will always be people who are better than you at any given skill. Embrace this fact and allow it to motivate you. 

There are some things you can never change. People will talk about you, judge you and attack you with all sorts of unnecessary questions. There’s nothing you can do about that. 

You know what you can change though? You can change how you react to it, and how it makes you feel. Never ever let anyone other than yourself make you feel inadequate. You’ve been cast as the lead role in the movie that is your life, and you’ve got it spot on. But even the best actress has her fair share of critics. 

Keep that in mind as you shoot the next scene. 😉

(PS: 5 is my favourite number. Yay 5 posts! :D)

How the Soul Got Crunchier. 

As I said before, this is not my first tryst with blogging. I began blogging in the ninth grade, and maintained a blog until 13.05.16. This blog was on a certain site, which I won’t name because even though I’m upset with it right now, I enjoyed its services for a good four years. On 13.05.16, (it was Friday the 13th, might I add) I got locked out of my blog because of some irrational security policy this site came up with without any prior warnings. I was heartbroken that day. I couldn’t even made a goodbye post. When I sent a mail to the support staff, they told me there was nothing they could do and linked me to the sign up page so I could ‘start again’. Lol, how kind. 

Dejected as I was, I decided I would never blog again. But within a week or so, I realised I had to. There’s something about blog posts that just makes me so happy, you know! I think everyone should have a forum where they can rant to their heart’s content. But of course I didn’t want to continue with the same website, because come on, that’s like running back to your ex after he dumped you brutally. 😛

Then, I decided to give WordPress a shot, and I had no idea what to expect. It’s been less than a week since I’ve made this blog, and at this point, I’m sure I’m going to love this site. Today, I discovered a small part of the WordPress community, and it’s so pleasant to see just how supportive they are! (A big shout out to the amazing people who took the time out to give me feedback. I’m touched.)

So that’s the story behind thecrunchiersoul. And the journey can only get better from here. 🙂 This is why I have faith in the Universe. Sometimes, shit happens simply in order to pave the way for more amazing things to come to you. 

The Universe always knows. 

Ash to Ashes.

So today, I had an epiphany of sorts, which often happens when I’m procrastinating to my maximum and pretending like I have no responsibilities. If you’ve ever spent hours thinking about closure and friends you don’t talk to anymore and things which shouldn’t matter but do, this post is for you. (I hope. :P)

Now that I’m in college, a lot of people from my ‘past life’ are just numbers on a screen. You know, those contacts that you distractedly scroll through on Whatsapp when you have nothing better to do… A very obvious truth that only struck me today is that I can choose which of them to keep in my life. 

Back in school, under the pretentious label of social etiquette, there was always a nagging voice in my head telling me to repair relationships that were showing symptoms of malfunction. ‘Fixing things’ was actually a constant stress to me, and now that I think back to it, I’m sure I overdid a lot of it. The eve of my birthday was always a busy day because I had this policy of setting everything right before I began a new year of existence. It all seems so… unnecessary now. 

Maybe it made sense then. When you’re surrounded by a fixed set of people everyday, it’s nice to steer clear of unresolved issues. I confess that I was closure hungry. Every story had to have an ending I understood, and every event had to have some rationale behind it. I spent days and weeks mulling over the stupidest of things and inevitably, things went from bad to worse after all that effort. 

But now, I have a new life. I’ve grown up enough to know how to prevent complications, and things are comfortable. 

I was thinking about something I did, and I caught myself thinking ‘What will XYZ think?’ (Haha that’s a lot of thinking :P) And then, my head made a very valid point- ‘How does it matter? You never need to meet XYZ again if you don’t intend to.’ XYZ is just another number I don’t know by-heart and if I lost this contact, I probably wouldn’t even realise. 

That’s when it hit me. None of the issues that have ever arisen matter anymore, because none of the people they involve really exist anymore. I agree that this is a very escapist way of viewing things, but if it works, well why not? And this fact in itself is a form of closure. Ash to ashes, dust to dust. So long, farewell, auf wiedersen goodbye! 

So listen to me carefully and repeat to yourself- Let. It. Go. Hold on to the elements of your past that make you feel good, and rid yourself of the elements that fill you with self-doubt. Apply filters to your life, the way you do so skilfully on Snapchat. 

Let it go. 

A Piece of Dust.

In keeping with the trend of the previous post, this post too was prompted by a book. This shouldn’t come as much of a surprise to you, reader, because as of now, the only stimulating things at arm’s length are books. 

The only thing worse than scary university exams is the one month of ‘holidays’ prior to aforementioned scary university exams. You plan to accomplish six chapters a day, but then suddenly it’s 9 pm and you’re still on the second page of the first chapter wondering just how time got the better of you. As you chastise yourself for being useless, you rush to the one thing nobody can take away from you- your books. If it weren’t for reading, I’d be a rotten vegetable by now. 

Anyway, I digress. I’ve taken to The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, though in regulated doses so that it’ll last a little longer. Today, I cheated. I  went ahead and read three chapters in a row, and it took me every ounce of my will-power to stop. 

An interesting issue came up in chapter 5. The protagonist, who’s doing a literature major and who has a particular passion for poetry is in conversation with her boyfriend of sorts, a medical student. ‘Do you know what a poem is, Esther?’ he asks self-importantly and then goes on to call it ‘a piece of dust’, thinking himself to be exceedingly witty. 

Science and literature, I’ve come to notice, are always pitted against each other. Those with a passion for logic and rational thinking roll their eyes at worthless arts like poetry. It has to be one or the other, doesn’t it? 

Well, I’m a medical student. (Hi. Thank you in advance for your condolences. 😋) And I can’t think of anything more beautiful than poetry. I adore science, reason and everything practical. At the same time, I can’t help but fall in love with literature, vagueness and exotic vocabularies. And I think a healthy mixture of both sides is a lot more enriching for my brain. 

I’m loving this book so far, by the way. It’s too soon to judge though. More on this later. Speaking of being a doctor, I should probably go finish that second page, though. Baby steps. 🙈

If poetry is a piece of dust, it must be gold dust they allude to. Everything is dust, though, if you look closely enough. Doctoring dust, writing dust… All this dust is sparking off my allergies. xD

(Lame, Sas. 🙄)

(Shush, your opinion is null and void because you are dust.)

Paper Has More Patience Than People


Nothing gives me solace the way pen and paper do. (Figuratively, of course. Gone are the days when everything had to be scribbled out, as opposed to typed out.) Leave me in a room alone with an empty book and if you come back a week later, I’ll still be crouched over it. (Provided the pen still works, that is.)

As you’ll come to discover soon enough, I have two very contradictory writing styles. The first style is casual and effortless, where I type out every thought that comes to my head and lose all my inner censors. When I write in the second style, which you’ll see less frequently, I spend hours brooding and editing and the post will only come up when the perfectionist in me is finally satiated.

There are issues I really can’t talk to even my closest friends about- not because I’m secretive but because I know they won’t understand it the way I want them to. This is where the beauty of paper comes in. When I write, I can put all my thoughts across and not have to worry about whether the reader gets it. (Of course I’d like you to get it, reader, but I’m just saying it’s not a necessity.) If something’s constantly on my mind, I know discussing it with people repeatedly will just exhaust them. When I write though, I can talk about the same thing in a million different ways if I wish to. ‘Paper has more patience than people,’ as Anne Frank very rightly pointed out.

I know this is technically my ‘first’ post, but I’ve tried my best to not emphasise this fact, because this very post would have been the 538th post on another blog if things had worked out differently. (#mysterious Sas) Nevertheless, join me on an all new journey of self-discovery and watch in amusement as I tumble through the awkwardness that is life.

(You know what a first post feels like? In India, when you have an arranged marriage, the family of the groom will come over to see the bride and both families then decide if they should proceed with the marriage. This post is not characteristic of me- I have made an attempt to censor in order to impress you, reader. Worry not, though. Once you get engaged with this blog, I’ll let my guard down and be myself. ……I just creeped you out, didn’t I?)

(Yay I managed to get through an entire post without using a single emoji. 😀

Oh wait.


There. Now the post is complete.)