#Merlunfiltered - The Visual Mess
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Women’s Day Roast: Same Cigarette | Call Me Unfiltered
Gary Lawyer warned us with a jingle. We hummed the first verse and RSVP'd yes. Same cigarette. Different verdict. A Women's Day roast that doesn't end at 3pm — or on March 8th.
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Cronies Flying Monkeys Manipulation: The Playbook
Manipulators don’t work alone. They recruit cronies, unleash flying monkeys, and turn someone’s empathy into entertainment. Applause does the rest.
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Sleepless Night With Mosquitoes: With Wings
A sleepless night, four mosquitoes, one dog, and the slow realisation that peace is a myth when you are warm, tired, and edible. A comedic essay on insomnia, survival, and being chosen by insects.
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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.
