The Feed

50 pieces

i'm fine

I say it to myself every day. I'm fine. Most days I almost mean it. The words feel like a reflex now, a conditioned response to th…

#self-reflection#mental health#daily struggles

— Aniruddh MenonAug 25, 2026

a letter I didn't send

I wrote it in October, somewhere between the first draft and sending, decided not to. You were going through the thing you were go…

#letter#friendship#essay

— AnonymousAug 25, 2026

The Feed

i'm fine

a letter I didn't send

unsent

the old transistor

prayers lost

street scent

the end of a conversation

funeral food

packing up the kitchen

a birthday in a city far from the people who know you

when parents become old

rearranging the furniture

the Urdu in our words

coffee at 3am and what it means

the word saudade

rain in June, a corrective

early hours

waiting outside

things that disappear without announcement

light at dusk

on the 7:45 from Dwarka

conversation with my father

eidi on chaand raat

the moment of recognition

tuesday, nothing special

the photograph not taken

going home after a long time away

in between identities

still writing

the man upstairs

on missing people who haven't left

a low-grade presence

return to a city

moving again

the shape of rest

space between

the evening walk

the color of memory

a conversation with my mother

the prize

the cook who gave notice

old hyderabad

a small gift

family in a group chat

coffee and small talk

on the day Chandni Chowk felt like mine

fading phrases

a low-grade presence

early morning

the man who fixed my screen