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Real-Talk: Growing Up, Love, and Cringy Teenage Blogs

Let’s get real. I had such flying ideas for this column, as I do for so many other things. Needless to say, with great ideas comes a great sense of loss. Loss of direction, loss of perception and an all-round, classic loss of yourself. While I ideated and mustered up-the words to write to you today, I also thought it best to revisit the original ideas I had for this. After all, it has only now seeped into my thick (as-fuck) skull that I too can lose sight of what I want. And I mean, really, really want.

Let’s get to it. As this ‘original’ idea I so often spoke of goes, I wanted to make this column a real space. Someplace I could talk about things I wanted to talk about, without having to create an invariably barren blog called zarahissocool or something foolish like that. Do not look that up, I beg you. PLS.

I’ve been so incredibly out of touch with writing and making, that it is only natural that I now feel the strong temptation of closing this tab and going back to doing my usual nothing. It may take a few Fridays for you to get used to me and my perennially scattered brain. Bear with me, I will get better. One could even say, go back to my ‘original’ idea.

With valentines day just past, I want to talk about that. Clearly, because we left this topic untouched, right? Let’s get to it then. The big V-day was just here and what are you going to do about it? I would’ve loved to give this my signature cynical twist to it, had I remained 15 years old. Unfortunately, you’re only 6 years late for that. However, if I may suggest, zarahissocool still exists and if you’re a fearless mf, you’ll read through it all. Anyway, as I said, I’m 6 years past that and I have a very different take on love and all it’s signed subsidiaries. I like to think I’ve been in love. It’s a comforting thought, and I have no regrets. I suppose that’s what makes it so comforting, no? The lack of regret. It makes you who you are, as all things do. But love, love is special. And in the moment, you find yourself enjoying the fuck out of days, and nights and simple, small things. When its over, it somehow still remains fun (although only in hindsight).

I like to think I’ve been in love. It’s a comforting thought, and I have no regrets. I suppose that’s what makes it so comforting, no?

I am at this age where a lot of the people I know are getting either engaged, or married, or god forbid - pregnant. I haven’t seen any of my friends pop any humans, but all in good time, I suppose. Eeks. But hey, I’m happy they’re happy, you know? Just because something someone else does isn’t my thing, doesn’t mean its bad. You gotta learn that shiz the hard way. What I want you to really know, on this lovely Friday evening is that - fall in love, it’s free. And look, love never hurts. Heartbreak, yes. But love, never. If you don’t have love, you have nothing. So go get some, and get some more while you’re at it. And be safe. I don’t want to have to tell you this!

Until next Friday,

Zarah Noorani



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