#Merlunfiltered - The Visual Mess
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Done With Life: The Quiet Ending
I’m not angry. I’m just finished. A quiet ending — not out of hate, but out of clarity. This is what it sounds like when you finally stop explaining yourself.
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Climbing Memory: A Childhood Tree and the Fires Within
Remembering the childhood tree — a place of joy, scraped knees, and secret swings — and the fire of memory it still carries.
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Mangalore: An Evening by the Estuary
At the Mangalore estuary evening, I tread barefoot on sharp boulders and sand, watching tides push and pull like memories. Dogs tumble, fishermen observe, and the sun carves its way toward the horizon. Just an hour, yet the estuary holds me — smoke in hand, sea salt in the air, Zoe at my side. Unfiltered, deep, fleeting — a moment worth lingering for, pulled back like the currents themselves.
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Writing as Self-Reflection: Confronting Fear and Paralysis
Writing became my icebreaker — a way to confront fear, reflect on my life, and keep moving forward, even when everything felt heavy and overwhelming.
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Love Letter to Bangalore: From Charm to Chaos
Once a city of charm and dew-scented mornings, now Bangalore is a cautionary tale of traffic tantrums, acid rain, and exhaustion. A satirical love letter for the ex we can’t stop missing.
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House Help Disaster: When Dusting Turns Into Chaos
I asked my house help to dust the ceiling fan—simple, right? Handed her a telescope duster, pointed to the sturdy balcony ladder, basically set her up for success. Enter BS (BhagyaShree). Instead of following instructions, she perched on a low IKEA stool…on top of the mattress…yanking fan blades like a personal resistance band. Now my once-beloved fan squeaks, threatens to go airborne, and crash-land on me at any moment. Creativity? Innovation? Or pure chaos? One thing is clear: BS indeed. Nothing remotely Bhagya or Shree. Just BS. If you’ve ever experienced house-help-induced disasters, you’ll nod along. And if you haven’t…consider yourself lucky.
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Ganesh Chaturthi Noise Pollution: Dearest PPB, Dearer Ganesh
Three days of Ganesh Chaturthi noise pollution have turned my apartment into an echo chamber. My dog Zoe refuses to pee, my patience has evaporated, and Ganesh is yet to show up. This is not devotion; this is survival. Consider this my unfiltered hostage note.
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One Boot One Sad Party No You | Call Me Unfiltered
One Boot One Sad Party No You is not about a party — it’s about grief, absence, and the strange rituals we create when someone doesn’t show up.
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OMAD Diet Gone Wrong: Coffee, Desserts & Toothache
What began as a lazy One Meal A Day experiment spiralled into an OMAD diet gone wrong — black coffee mornings, dessert-fuelled nights, and a toothache running the show. Minimalism? Please. Diabetes is already fixing her lipstick.
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Back to Base Zero (and Still Not a Coder)
Three days, one broken code, and a brain playing coder cosplay. I went from strategist to SEO intern, from Harvey Specter to hair like Einstein. Welcome to Base Zero — where burnout meets blogging.
