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The Column

This is the heart of the journal.

A weekly personal essay on modern womanhood, quiet choices, city life, relationships, style, ambition, and the small moments that reveal who we are becoming.

Each column begins with a question — the kind that usually arrives in the middle of an ordinary day. On the way home from dinner. While getting dressed for an event you are not sure you want to attend. In a conversation with a friend. In the quiet after everyone else has gone to sleep.

The Column is not here to give perfect answers. It is here to notice the questions.

Through personal essays, real and semi-fictionalized stories, and everyday scenes from Gurgaon life, this space explores what it means to live thoughtfully in a world that often asks us to move faster, want more, explain ourselves better, and perform certainty before we have actually found it.

Here, fashion may appear as a blazer, a pair of heels, a kurta worn too many times, or the decision to dress for comfort instead of approval. Friendship may appear through a cancelled plan, a long voice note, or the silence between two people who know each other too well. Ambition may appear not as a title, but as the courage to grow without losing your evenings, your peace, or yourself.

These essays are personal, but they are not only about one person.

They are about the woman who leaves the party early and still wonders if she missed something. The woman who wants a softer life without giving up her ambition. The woman who is tired of explaining why she likes staying in. The woman who is learning that confidence can be quiet, that style can be practical, and that adulthood often feels like something we are all still rehearsing.

The Column is for reflective readers who enjoy stories more than instructions, questions more than conclusions, and honesty more than performance.

Expect observations, confessions, contradictions, city scenes, uncomfortable truths, and the occasional outfit that says more than anyone in the room.

Not every piece will end neatly.

Real life rarely does.