Twenty Five and Nowhere

This year began like a firecracker. Restless days. Rushed plans. Life seemed to have picked up a rhythm that felt unstoppable. There was an energy and a sense that finally things were starting to mean something. But somewhere along this ride, things slowed down and then stopped altogether. Everything that was once moving forward now stands still. A full stop where there should have been motion.

What was once adrenaline has turned into inertia. A body that used to roam around mountains now barely steps outside. The world has reduced to four walls and indoors have started to feel airless. Not that something tragic happened. It is worse than that. Nothing happened. Nothing at all. Just a slow freezing of everything that was once alive. Even the bike, once a companion on roads unknown, stands untouched. Covered in dust.

There is a desire to scream, to vanish, to find some fresh air. But even that feels out of reach now. Everything keeps piling up, the mind stays cluttered and the world keeps pressing in and even the smallest things now seem to ask why they matter at all. Being twenty five was not supposed to feel like this. The pressure is not explosive but a slow choke.

Talking to people has started feeling like a task. Not out of hate. Not even frustration. Just the absence of want. Conversations do not feel necessary anymore. There is no push to keep things going, no urge to explain, no interest in filling silences. Words are returned when they arrive but there is no effort to begin anything and when nothing comes the silence feels normal not empty.

This is not depression with labels or poetry with metaphors. This is just a chapter where nothing moves. Twenty five was supposed to be full of things. Now it is filled with questions. Where is this heading? What is the point? Who knows. Maybe something will shift again. Or maybe it will not. For now, it is what it is, a life that does not hurt but does not feel like living either.

Death of a Point

 

Someone raises a valid point. It could be during a debate, an argument, a social issue or just an expression. They speak about Something they have experienced or something they want to be seen. But almost immediately, the point shifts. The other side does not respond to the point. Instead they defend. They say the issue exists everywhere. They say others also go through the same. And just like that, the original problem is no longer the centre.

Take the example of a woman who talks about how patriarchy has affected her life. The moment she finishes, someone interrupts saying that men also suffer. That men too face restrictions. The focus quickly moves from what she said to how someone else feels about it. The issue she brought up is not addressed. Her pain is not questioned, but it is silently dismissed.

This need to defend is not about truth. It is about discomfort. The moment a person feels that their side might be seen as flawed, they rush to speak. But in doing so they fail to listen. The response may not be hostile but it is more than enough to bury the point. What began as an attempt to highlight a specific problem is now lost in a generalised mess. The one who raised the issue is now left unheard, misunderstood, and possibly blamed for even trying.

Over time people stop raising issues altogether. They know what will follow. The comparisons. The reverse examples. The pressure to prove that their pain is different enough, unique enough or urgent enough. This culture of defensiveness forces silence. Real problems remain under the surface.

Not every issue raised is an attack. Not every truth needs to be balanced by another. Sometimes a problem just needs space. A little time to breathe. If the first reaction is always defence, then nothing ever really moves forward. The problem stays. The people stay unheard. And all we are left with is a discussion that looks complete, but never once touches what truly mattered.

Azadi Review

 

Azadi opens like a regular story. Nothing rushes. The setting is clear, the mood is steady and the scenes unfold in a straight line. Directed by Jo George. This film stars Sreenath Bhasi, Raveena Ravi, Lal, T G Ravi and Vani Viswanath. What begins as a slow moving drama turns into a gripping escape act filled with tension.

The plot follows Ganga, a pregnant woman in prison and her husband Raghu who is determined to get her out. The story unfolds inside Kottayam Medical College over a single day. What seems like a personal escape soon becomes a larger issue.

The visuals stay true to the setting. Hospital rooms, crowded passages, dim lights are all kept real. There is no overdo. The background never overtakes the story. The writing is clear. It shows only what is needed. Each scene builds on the previous one. Nothing feels random or out of place. The flow stays tight till the end.

Sreenath Bhasi delivers a solid performance. He never slips. Raveena Ravi holds her part with calmmess. Lal and T G Ravi bring depth without stepping over others. Vani Viswanath fits well into her role as a senior officer. The cast works like a team. Everyone knows when to take the lead and when to step back.

Azadi runs smooth without giving anything away. But in the end it throws one move that changes everything. A mindblowing twist to end. It does not slow down. It just hits. And once it does the whole film feels different. Everything before that twist feels like a setup. Everything after feels like impact.

Rating: 8/10 ⭐️

Be Black or Be White

 

There is a comfort in being grey. You do not have to pick a side. You do not have to explain yourself. You can move between opinions, between choices even between people. You can avoid judgement, skip questions and stay safe. But the problem with grey is that it stands nowhere.

Life demands clarity. When you choose black, you are ready to face what comes with it. When you choose white, you are prepared to defend it. But when you remain in the middle, you become a bystander. You let others make the decisions, take the risks and live with the outcomes. You stay untouched but also unnoticed.

Being black or white does not mean being rigid. It means being sure. It means saying this matters and that does not. It means drawing a line, even when it brings discomfort to people. The world moves because some choose to act while others hesitate. Because some say no when others nod.

Grey feels peaceful. But it slowly takes away your sense of direction. You forget what you believe in. You start to repeat things you once questioned. You begin to live off borrowed strength. And at some point you realise that your voice no longer makes an impact. Because it never stayed firm enough to be heard.

Pick a side. Not because one is always right. But because standing for something is better than standing for nothing. People who are clear may lose more. They may be misunderstood. But at least they live with their spine straight and their head clear. There is more strength in being wrong with honesty than in being right without a stand.

Eleven Review

 

Eleven is a 2025 crime investigation film directed by Lokkesh Ajlis, featuring Naveen chandra in the lead. On the surface, it is yet another psycho-killer story with a series of murders, an investigation, and a reason behind the killings. But beneath that familiar structure lies a film that tries to break patterns, only to fall back into them. It begins with promise, stumbles midway, and recovers just enough to deliver a decent twist at the end.

The plot follows a familiar path. A series of murders triggers an investigation and slowly, a justification for the killings begins to unfold. The film opens strongly with a murder sequence that immediately catches attention. However the pace soon drops and the tension loses grip. Fortunately, the story gains momentum that leads towards a climax that delivers a surprising twist.

A major drawback lies in its casting. Although Naveen does a fair job, several other roles are poorly executed. The heroine in particular is unconvincing in both performance and presence. Her role feels artificial, the emotions  are missing and her chemistry with the hero feels mismatched. Additionally victims also lack any memorable traits, making it difficult for the audience to feel connected to their fates.

This lack of connection to the characters weakens the film overall. There is no strong emotional anchor, neither in the protagonist nor in the antagonist. At several points in the film, the audience may find themselves indifferent to what happens next. It reaches a stage where the murders do not evoke concern.

Technically the film leaves much to be desired. The visual quality is average and the overall production feels underwhelming. The screenplay has its moments, especially when it picks up pace, but it also leaves several loose ends. For viewers who tend to question plot logic or details, this film may become frustrating.

On a positive note, the background score does justice to the tone of the film. In a story built on suspense and fear, music plays a crucial role in enhancing impact. Here the background music manages to bring in the necessary intensity, especially in moments of confrontation or revelation. While it is not extraordinary, it serves its purpose well.

In conclusion this film is a decent attempt that brings something different from the routine commercial drama. It may not be a standout film in its genre, but the effort to deliver a psychological thriller deserves credit. Though let down by poor casting and emotional detachment, it still remains watchable for its plot development and final twist.

Rating: 6.5 out of 10⭐️

More Than Just Tea

 

Some tea talks hold more meaning than the day itself. A glass of tea is passed over the counter and the conversation begins. One person sips slowly because he is talking. Another finishes his glass quickly because he is listening. The moment goes on depending on the importance of what is being shared. Sometimes the tea becomes two. Sometimes three. The number does never mattered.

We speak about everything. Love, Politics, Bikes, Business, Friendships etc. Some talks are full of opinions. Others are just hmms and nods. Some days the words never come but the presence is enough. Just standing there beside someone and knowing nothing needs to be said also is a kind of peace. The air feels different. The tea tastes better and the world slows down.

The tea stall itself keeps changing. Sometimes it is just around the corner. Sometimes it takes a small ride to get there. Either way the direction is never random. We go there with the thought that today needs to end with tea and conversation. No matter how Hard or light the day was. No matter what went wrong or what went right. That one glass seals the day in a way nothing else can.

It was never about the drink and never about how long we stood there. It was about what that time gave us. Some days it gave clarity. Some days it gave warmth. Some days it gave nothing but still felt like something. And when that kind of moment stops happening, you do not always notice it at first. But over time you realise that no other part of the day has filled that space since.

The Scam of Romanticising the Past

 

There is a trend online where people are drawn to anything that looks old. Cars that barely run, bikes that need a push to start, Clothes from decades ago, cafes with broken walls and dim lights, all of this is now called meaningful and full of character. Social media keeps pushing the idea that things from the past are better than what we have now. And many people believe it.

This is not real respect for the past. It is just another trend. People are not choosing these things because they work better. They are choosing them because they want to stand out. A rusty scooter becomes cool. A broken Film camera becomes vintage. It is not about value. It is about attention. The truth is we moved on from these things for a reason. We upgraded because we needed comfort, speed and most importantly safety. Nothing about that is wrong.

The people who talk about the past like it was perfect are often the same ones enjoying every bit of modern life. They use fast internet, ride new bikes, wear modern clothes and still post about how good the old days were. They forget that many of those old things were not charming. They were just hard to live with. And people back then would have chosen better if they had the chance.

In most cases, this is not love for the past. It is a way to be different. In a world where everything works well, people pick what does not,  just to feel special. And social media loves that. Not because it is meaningful but because it looks good.

There is nothing wrong with liking old things. But fooling yourself into thinking they are better than what we have now is not Ideal. It is just a choice to ignore how far we have come.