stolendiaryofchronicalhater

[stolendiaryofchronicalhater]

Unpopular opinion but I don't like Winters!! I Hate this season, winter chills are more like winter kills for me＼(^^)／

[stolendiaryofchronicalhater]

I will talk the day i will no longer hide

In the quietness of night when people should sleep, I find myself trapped in a constant bad dream. The roads I used to take every day have changed into scary dark paths. The fear is not of the night itself but of the monsters it hides—those who walk among us, camouflaged in the skin of ordinary men. My nights are full of fear, worried about going outside. The streets once just ways to get around now feel like dangerous places. I feel the weight of invisible eyes following me, judging me, objectifying me. This isn't just in my head; it's my everyday life. Walking down a street with 20 people staring and taking away my dignity has become too much to handle.

I find myself in constant fear, not just of the shadows that lurk at night but of the people who are supposed to be my peers, neighbors, and protectors. From the teenage boys barely stepping into adolescence to the elderly uncles who ought to be wise, the discomfort they inflict is the same. Their professions, their social standings none of it matters. What matters is the power they hold, a power they wield carelessly, making me feel like an object rather than a human being.

And then there are our “so-called saviors”, the ones in uniform who are supposed to protect us. But how can I feel safe when the very sight of a police station fills me with unease? It's not the criminals I’m scared of; it's the officers within. The irony is suffocating the protectors are no different from the predators they are supposed to guard us from.

Now, you might say I'm generalizing, that “not all men are like this”. But how can you blame me for feeling this way when every encounter leaves me more scarred, more afraid? This isn't just a broad claim, it's what I've gone through in the past 18 years of my life. I don't wish to label every man as a monster, but when the majority of my interactions have been with those who take away my sense of safety, how else am I supposed to feel?

This is not just my experience, it's the story of countless women who walk these same roads and stay awake at night with the same fears. We are taught to hide to survive in a world that was never built for us. But survival is not enough. We deserve to walk these streets without fear, to stand outside without feeling like prey.

The problem is not with us, the problem is with the society that allows these monsters to roam freely. It's time we stop blaming the victims and start holding the real culprits accountable. It's time we demand a world where women can feel safe, where the night is not a time of terror but a time of peace, where our saviors truly protect us.

Until then, I will continue to hide.

[stolendiaryofchronicalhater]

The eyes i will never forget

We all are so caught up in our worlds that we barely stop to look around us. I am no different. Like everyone, trying to complete my never-ending to-do lists, rushing to college, and getting through the assignments deadlines.

However, a week ago, something happened that forced me to slow down. A friend of mine was working on her film project, and I accompanied her, wandering the streets with no particular purpose, but that day, as I roamed around, something shifted within me and I started seeing the world through a different lens. The mere idea of engaging with strangers can be scary, especially when we’re taught to be cautious. But that day the experience was unforgettable, because of the people I met. What I learned in those moments is something no university classroom could ever teach.

One conversation got stuck in my mind “Madam, sapne kaun nahi dekhta, magar sabke sapne pure hone lage toh koi sapne hi kyun dekhega.” At first, this might sound like just another line from a Bollywood film. But when these words were spoken to me by a bookseller on the street, they carried a weight that left me speechless. There was something in his voice, the depth of his eyes speaks the reflection of reality, unfulfilled dreams. At that moment, I felt something I can’t even put into words. I glimpsed a life I could never fully understand, yet deeply felt.

It made me realize how absorbed I am in my world, we all are really, that we often forget to notice the beauty that surrounds us, the beauty in people, in their stories, in their struggles. But is it anyone’s fault? Perhaps it’s just the way the world is, moving at such a pace that we’re forced to keep up, rest we are left behind.

The streets are still alive with stories, dreams, and lives that are just as rich and complex as our own.

So try to pause even if it's for a moment. Maybe you can find a profound lesson in the eyes of strangers on the street.