When life’s too comfortable, and there’s nothing that compels me to write, it’s a bit unsettling.

These smiling, cheerful facades hide a million prejudices. The idea of being a second class citizen plays in my mind constantly. Being compelled or being thrown into social situations, I have to do things, to put it bluntly, in ways I’m not used to. A weird and uncomfortable mix of apathy and cheerfulness is what I find here. Sometimes I feel like it’s better to more careful and simply assume all of it is fake. However, too much of this might even lead to being boxed in, the so called “ghetto mentality” that many seem to accuse Indians like me of having.

I want to come across as a brooding, serious thinker. I’m afraid I’m coming across as a bumbling idiot.

Although me coming across as a bumbling idiot may be hyperbole, it is a possibility.

Being inaudible and incoherent has been an issue I’ve been dealing with for a long time. It isn’t debilitating but it’s very visible to me. I won’t fake an accent and whether that’s for better or for worse,  only time will tell.