EVANIS

There’s something I’ve carried in my heart for a long time, and today, I’m letting it out. It hurts when people don’t see me for the girl I am—but instead, expect me to live like a saint. Maybe that sounds dramatic to some. But those who truly know me—know my vibe, my energy, my soul—know what I mean. I’m someone who loves to dance like no one’s watching, sing until my voice cracks, travel just to feel the wind hit my face, wear what I love without explanation, and write my truth with every heartbeat. I’m an artist. A wanderer. A lover of life. But people often expect me to mirror someone else’s personality—someone quieter, more reserved, more acceptable in their eyes. But I’m not her. I’m not anyone else. I’m me. And that should be enough. Since I was a child, I’ve been told what to do, what to wear, how to sit, what to say, and what not to say. Rule after rule, layered on top of expectations I never asked for. I grew up under a microscope, with judgment waiting at every turn. I’ve be...

Fade in. A child cries in the distance.  Thunder rumbles. Slow piano plays.) VOICEOVER BEGINS :       He arrived on thunder's breath    The world didn’t greet him with lullabies  Just thunder. And rain. And silence. Born into shadows but never without a spark  (Cut to a young boy staring through a cracked window.) From the beginning, he was different. Not broken—just unseen. People judged him before he even had a voice. They mocked him for being too soft… too real… too himself. (Montage: classmates laughing, text messages flashing insults, doors closing on him.) They called him names. Laughed at his dreams. Tore him down until he almost believed them. Almost. (Cue a slow beat drop. Visuals darken.) Friends turned their backs. A girl he trusted left him shattered. And for a while, he lived in pieces. (Cut to a boy sitting on the floor, staring at his reflection in broken glass.) But pain doesn’t just destroy. Sometimes… it awakens. (Music ...

I was born with a voice. Soft. Curious. Unformed. My first words danced in Malayalam, The language of lullabies, Of home, of heart, The voice of my roots. Then the world called me further. In the UAE, I spoke in English, Crisp, new, and full of dreams. It gave me confidence. It made me visible. Delhi brought me Hindi, Spoken with strength, with warmth, A language that wrapped around daily life, As familiar as morning chai. Chennai whispered Tamil into my ears, Melodic and ancient, It settled into my soul like an old song rediscovered. For a while, I held Arabic and Sanskrit too Fleeting companions, Like beautiful birds that stayed just long enough to sing. They say, "You’re so lucky.  You’re a queen of languages." I smile. Not because I feel royal, But because I feel seen. Once, I doubted myself. I blamed my existence. I looked in the mirror and couldn’t find anything special. But now, When eyes light up as I shift between tongues, When admiration fills a room wit...

Apart from the challenges and hindrances in life, I often find myself wondering—why do I show different behaviors with different people? Yes, I know I’m unique, but it's a uniqueness shaped in many beautiful ways. Inherited Strength and Love I carry traits and personalities passed down through my family tree. It may sound a bit strange, but it’s true. My father represents strength, and my mother radiates love. I see both in myself. I’m a fighter, a survivor—I stand up for myself. But I’ve realized that this growing strength within me comes from my father. When someone hurts me, I react—I defend myself. People might see me as harsh or cruel. But soon after, guilt often creeps in. Maybe I should have stayed silent? But how long can I stay silent? The truth is, even when I’m hurt, I forgive. I care. I love. And that mix of strength and softness—comes from my strong father and my kind-hearted mother. A Brother’s Playful Spirit Sometimes, life feels dull. That’s whe...

Just imagine this:  You're overwhelmed with stress about the future, unsure of which path to take, and paralyzed by fear of the next step. That was me—yesterday. I felt lonely, defeated, and found myself crying quietly in my room. That’s when my Ammachi knocked on the door and gently asked,  “Oru chaaya edukatte?”  Without a second thought, I said yes. Outside, it was pouring rain. I waited eagerly—not just for any tea, but for my favourite: Horlicks tea. I know it might sound a little childish, but that creamy, malty mix brings me so much comfort. Ammachi soon returned, holding that warm cup just for me. "Ahha ! Adipwoli "  Maybe tea really does have the power to soothe your soul. With the first sip, the weight of my worries seemed to fade. That simple cup of Horlicks tea shifted my entire mood. For a moment, I was transported back to my childhood—mixing Parle-G biscuits into my tea, watching them melt just enough before taking a bite. One by one, dunking, sipping, ...