Anushree Vaishnav

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  • A Certain Distance

    Anushree Vaishnav

    There was a time when certain things felt permanent. No matter how much you tried to run away from them, they were always there. No matter how much you tried to ignore them, you had to give your full attention to them. They filled your days, stayed in your mind, and you felt them in your heart. Your whole life was moving around them.

    That phase felt like a black hole ready to consume you. So, you lived through it because what other option did you have? But after some time, you decided to move with time, even if it meant moving slowly. It was better than being consumed by that black hole. And slowly, things began to change. Not in a dramatic way. Not with a clear ending. But it became less. Less intense. Less consuming. Less affecting.

    At first, you didn’t think much of it. But over time, the space it once occupied in your life was replaced by other things. Things that became more important than those earlier ones. And one day, you realised that the phase was no longer the centre of your life.

    It still existed. The memories were still there. But they were no longer affecting everything around you. They became something you had experienced, not something you were still living inside. There is a strange kind of distance in that. Not disconnection, just… distance. Like a movie scene you once watched absent-mindedly.

    Now, when you look back, you realise how far you have come. How much your life once revolved around it. How much it influenced your decisions, emotions, and the way you thought. And it all made sense then, but not anymore. Maybe that’s what outgrowing really means. Not erasing your past. Not getting rid of it. Not denying it. Just reaching a place where it no longer holds you back.

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  • Paused By Purpose

    Anushree Vaishnav

    Failures work like a pause. They give you a chance to momentarily stop and think about your life and act.

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  • Alone in a Relationship

    Anushree Vaishnav

    Being alone without any relationship is better than being alone in a relationship.

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  • The Temptation of Chaos

    Anushree Vaishnav

    The day is simply repeating itself over and over. The boredom of repetitive days is depressing me. Slow mornings, familiar routines, and predictable moments. Same people, steady relationships. Nothing different happens that challenges life. So, the urge to return to chaos is getting louder.

    Distractions start looking tempting. A voice keeps provoking to lose control. Look! What others are doing. See! How exciting their life is. And here I am stuck in this boredom. Life should be fun. This is the time I have to be alive. Let’s do something adventurous. Let’s see what happens next. A thought of chasing the lives of others and chasing a life of unpredictability that takes emotional highs to high until the time comes to pay the cost of chaos. Because this is what always happens.

    Eventually, that time would come when excitement turns into chaos. Whatever I think will feel thrilling ends up making me tired. The stress, instability, emotional exhaustion, and regret would come as well. The adventurous life would crumble into pieces. It would be the cost of chaos that only I would have to pay.

    And then the calm, peaceful life that now looks boring would start to look valuable because predictable days are more comforting than unpredictable ones. Routines are making a human grounded rather than restrictive. And I would want my peaceful life back. So, I would do everything again that I already once did, focusing on myself rather than the world.

    But why does it happen? Why do humans have the urge to leave their peaceful lives to search for excitement, and then spend years trying to return to the peace they once had? Isn’t it funny to throw the precious thing away only to want it back like crazy? Maybe because when something becomes normal, the mind stops valuing it. This is why humans become restless and want to break the quiet rhythm of a stable life. But once they went through the whole process once, their peaceful life stopped feeling dull and started feeling precious.

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  • The Weight You Don’t See

    Anushree Vaishnav

    Remember, there was a time when your life was scattered into pieces. You fell and fell, and finally hit rock bottom in your life. You stayed there for quite a while and realised that at the end of the day, it’s just you and your scattered life. So, one by one, you started making decisions, worked on them every day until they reached their conclusions. You got up and fell a thousand times — doubt, frustration, fear — you feel everything, but never leave your constant hard work. You worked every part of your life until you finally started seeing what you wanted to. Over time, your work paid off, and results started showing. Your scattered life is being formed and structured again. Stability returned.

    You never talked about your fall or your plan to rebuild. You never asked for motivation or applause. You accepted responsibility for your decisions and quietly worked on them. But since it always happened, when you carried something well, people thought it wasn’t heavy, that’s what happened to you. They didn’t understand the strength and effort that you put to carry it well. And whenever you shared something about your life, they didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, they started telling you their struggle. Like life is a race, and whose struggle louder is bigger.

    The memory of that half-finished sentence surfaced in your mind when you were explaining how you tried everything to get that job, but still you didn’t get it. Before you could finish the sentence, they listed everything they had survived, and you went quiet. Not because they were wrong, but because you realised you weren’t having the same conversation.

    Now, their comparison makes you feel like your efforts aren’t valuable. Your chapter is not much of anything because it was quieter. You never asked for admiration. You just expect recognition so you can feel the connection, you can feel seen, and when that never comes, your story feels erased. Like it never existed.

    You don’t want to beg to be understood. You don’t want to compete with others and prove what you went through. You don’t want to shrink yourself so others can have all the space. But sometimes, in those moments, you feel the urge to make yourself so small that you don’t threaten or disturb anybody. The urge is to protect yourself, not your weakness.

    You need to understand that quiet strength is often mistaken for ease. When you carry it all so quietly, people think it’s not heavy at all. But they forget that it’s your strength that you gain through discipline and repeated effort — waking up, fixing habits, controlling the outcomes of your emotions and choosing long-term stability over short-term distractions.

    None of it is glamorous. That’s why stability never attracts applause. You also need to understand that comparison is sometimes a defence mechanism, not the truth. Sometimes people choose competition so they don’t feel worthless. But what they don’t understand is that life is not a grand competition, and no one’s struggle can be bigger or smaller than others.

    But after all of this, the truth is still there, and it is pretty simple: you didn’t do anything to show off; you did it because this is what you wanted for yourself. You took your responsibility because you knew it was what you should have done. So, even if no one sees you, you still know what you did it for yourself.

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  • Waiting for Good Times

    Anushree Vaishnav

    Many spend their good times waiting for the good times.

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  • A Quiet Disconnection

    Anushree Vaishnav

    First, you notice the irritation that you start feeling more often now. The people are the same. Their patterns are the same. The conversations are the same. Nothing has really changed. And yet, something feels different. You start noticing it in small ways, and it irritates you. Maybe because somewhere inside you know that something is not right, but you can’t name it. And this confusion makes you think more and more about your irritation. Something is not there anymore. Something has changed. But what is it? The question remains.

    When you look at it carefully, you realise the irritation comes from a quiet sense of disconnection. The kind you feel when you are around the same people you have known for years, but now something inside you feels like you no longer meet them in the same way. The conversations that once felt interesting now feel repetitive. Reactions that once made sense now feel unnecessary. No matter how much you try to understand, you can’t agree with them anymore. But then you wonder how and when that change happened. How did the people you once felt connected to start feeling unrelated? And if they are still the same, because this is how they have always been, then who changed? You?

    The fog of confusion begins to clear once you understand that it’s you who changed, not the people around you. The change happened so slowly that you couldn’t notice it until now. Your efforts to become better, your life experiences, and your knowledge slowly created that shift. You started thinking differently. You learned to respond instead of react. You started understanding people rather than judging them. You became more aware of your responsibilities toward others. You started focusing on yourself and living a calm life.

    And it should feel like growth, and it does. But growth does something difficult to notice: it changes how you relate to people. They are still the same, but you don’t meet them with the same mindset, energy, or understanding anymore. And this creates a quiet distance. This is where the guilt begins. Because when you feel disconnected from people you were once close to, it can feel like something is wrong with you. You start questioning yourself. Why don’t I enjoy their company anymore? Why don’t I react the way I used to? Why can’t I just agree with them? And slowly, you begin thinking it’s all your fault.

    When the truth is, you simply grew beyond the version of yourself you used to be. And not everyone grows at the same pace or in the same direction. That is why some relationships begin to feel different. This is what outgrowing people means. And maybe it sounds harsh, but it isn’t. You are not leaving people behind. You are not trying to hurt. them. You are simply no longer the same person within that relationship. The connection existed between who you were and who they were at that time. When one side changes, the connection naturally shifts. And that shift often feels like distance.

    The reality is, this is how life works. Change is inevitable. You can’t force it or stop it. Over time, people change. Some relationships survive those changes. Some become quieter. Some slowly fade away. Not because they failed, but because they belonged to a different version of you. And once you understand that, peace slowly returns. There is no longer a need to pretend just to keep up with people. No need to explain yourself all the time. And gradually, the irritation, confusion, and guilt about feeling different begin to turn into acceptance.

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  • Soul’s Beauty

    Anushree Vaishnav

    Beauty is in your soul; the face is just a medium.

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  • Something Is Missing

    Anushree Vaishnav

    Now, everything is fine. Days are moving slowly, as they should. There are no problems that I can’t solve. No chaos, no stress. And still, something doesn’t feel right. A feeling that something is missing. It’s not sadness. It’s not even dissatisfaction. Everything is there, but something is still missing, like a piece missing from a complete puzzle. And that’s what makes it hard to understand.

    I go through my day the same way. I do what I should do. I handle things, do my work, fulfil my responsibilities, and stay in control. And yet, sometimes, in certain moments, the feeling of emptiness comes back.

    At first, it felt like nothing. It was easy to ignore. But the more I tried to ignore it, the more intense it became. I looked around my life, trying to find what was missing. It wasn’t a person or a place. It wasn’t something I left behind or forgot. And that’s when it became unsettling, because if nothing around me was missing, then maybe what’s missing isn’t outside. Maybe it’s within me.

    Something has changed because I don’t react the same way anymore. Things that once excited me don’t feel as intense now. I don’t express myself the same way. Everything is measured and controlled, even my thoughts and emotions. And this is what I wanted to become better at handling things. It should feel like growth, and it does. But somewhere in the process of becoming stronger and more mature, something shifted.

    And it makes me think how slowly everything happened, so slowly that I didn’t even notice. I became more stable, more aware, more conscious. And it was necessary. But now, when I look at it closely, it feels like a part of me faded away along the way. Something that used to be there… isn’t there anymore.

    I can’t say the missing part was something I lost or left behind. Maybe nothing is wrong. Maybe a part of me is just no longer there, and I’m still trying to understand what once filled the space where this emptiness exists now.

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  • Unapologetic

    Anushree Vaishnav

    I can’t live a shitty life just because you like the smell of it.

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