Escaping the Mechanical Maze & Reconnecting with Nature at Dharamkot Your dearest writer writing from the most beautiful place in Northern India. This blog post captures the transition in the perspective of someone who travelled from a monotonous mechanical world (with 9–8 job) to a beautiful, serene hilly place where the only sound you could hear is bird chirps, cow’s moos, breeze-filled rains, and soft storms & absolute calmness. For someone whose day starts amidst a chaotic environment with instructing an ever-shouting maid and grumpy cook, while trying to come to fullest sense even at 8 am in the morning, only to struggle and find her office stuff lost amidst a messy house; And somehow finally getting ready while still parallelly attending a 9 am meeting, and pushing the so-called breakfast down her throat, so she could get stuck and travel like a headless chicken amidst countless others in a scorching 38 deg weather with full on traffic, where she sweats endlessly t...
I ruffled through the pages of my diary to figure out when was that moment in history when I made that quirkiest decision of my life. the one I have always been wanting to take. Not for one, two years, but for ages I could remember Painting my hair Red. To be honest, the color wasn’t pre-decided. It was anything far from black. And one I wouldn’t regret. But for someone with this desire to color the hair for ages, I hardly made a search to finalize on the precision of vibrancy. I did one thing which 93.45% girls do. Ping BFF. I pinged my best friend who should at least by then block me for my incessantly pinging her and bothering amidst her regular chores. Red may look good on you, she said sharing a few pics, which I took exactly to the bestest salon in the city of Chennai. Trust me, as someone having a hair of good texture (Well, not bragging, if anything I would only tie it to heredity, the fact that everyone in my family has it, from grandfather till granddaughter), the ...
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