saavisays

[saavisays]

"Mai kabki ja chuki hu, tum bhi ab jab skte ho"

The truth is, you didn’t lose me that day, you lost me in all the small moments you thought didn’t matter, in every “you’re so cringe” that made me second guess my own joy, in every comparison that quietly convinced me I wasn’t enough. you saw me getting quieter and thought I was changing, but I was just shrinking, holding myself back, learning how to exist without being judged for simply being me, and the girl who once felt so free, so excited around you, slowly started feeling like she had to measure every word, every reaction, every piece of herself just to be accepted. you kept asking why I wasn’t excited anymore, but how do you stay excited where you don’t feel valued, where love starts to feel like something you have to earn instead of something you’re given, and maybe that’s the part you never understood I didn’t leave you in one moment, I left you in parts, until there was nothing real of me left to stay.

[saavisays]

I was a gifted child. Until I wasn’t.

Back then, everything came easily. Answers, grades, praise. It felt like I was always a step ahead without even trying. People started expecting that version of me to stay forever. And I believed them. Slowly, I stopped noticing how much of myself I was tying to those expectations. If I did well, it was normal. If I didn’t, it felt wrong—like I had broken something I was supposed to always maintain. No one really talks about what happens when being “good at everything” starts to stop working. It doesn’t happen all at once. It just becomes harder to focus. Harder to care. Harder to feel like you’re enough even when you’re trying. At some point, the effort starts feeling heavier than the result. Things that used to be simple begin to blur. And you can’t explain it properly, because from the outside nothing looks obviously wrong.

So people assume you’ve changed. Or stopped trying.

But inside, it doesn’t feel like that.

It feels like something in you just got tired of being on all the time.

I was a gifted child.

Until I wasn’t the version of me that could keep up with it anymore.

[saavisays]

“Sabko paar lagane wali naiyya, khud kabhi nadi paar nahi kar paati.” You know that one friend everybody runs to when life gets heavy? The one who stays awake listening to breakdowns, fixes misunderstandings, comforts everyone, and somehow sends people back feeling lighter than before. People come to them emotionally drowning and leave feeling understood again. But slowly, nobody notices what this does to that person. Because after a point, they stop being treated like a human and start becoming a place. A safe place where everyone comes to vent, cry, complain, heal, and unload their pain before continuing with life again. Like passengers using a boat to cross the river. And maybe that’s the saddest part everybody reaches the happier side eventually, but nobody ever comes back to check if the boat survived the water too.

Saavi

[saavisays]

We grew up hearing that letters take days to arrive. But what if your love doesn’t have to wait anymore? What if someone is sitting alone on a random Tuesday evening, exhausted from life, pretending they’re okay and within the next 10–15 minutes, a letter reaches their door. Not a parcel. Not food. Not some expensive gift. Just words. Words written only for them. And the funny part is, you can actually do this through Blinkit now. Just type your letter, upload it for print, and send it directly to them with love. I don’t know, I just find this idea so beautiful. The idea that you can interrupt someone’s sadness before it consumes the entire day. That you can make someone feel remembered this quickly. So no, maybe it’s not handwritten. But the effort is still real. The intention is still so beautiful. And sometimes, all a person needs is one page that says, “I thought of you today.”

[saavisays]

it’s weird how some friendships don’t end, they just slowly stop being what they were. you still have their number, still see their name while scrolling your dms, sometimes you still tell yourself you’ll text them properly someday, but you never really do. nothing bad happened, no big fight, no clear reason, just life, timing, distance, whatever people like to call it. but somewhere in between, the comfort changed, the effort became something you had to think about, and the conversations started feeling a little forced. and the strangest part is missing someone who’s still technically in your life, just not in the way they used to be, like you’re holding onto a version of them that doesn’t really exist anymore.

[saavisays]

Mujhe do logon ki kahani mein kisi teesre ki maujoodgi kabhi pasand nahi aati,

isiliye main khud hi woh teesra insaan ban kar kahani se nikal jaana behtar samajhti hoon.

[saavisays]

Mujhe do logon ki kahani mein kisi teesre ki maujoodgi kabhi pasand nahi aati,

isiliye main khud hi woh teesra insaan ban kar kahani se nikal jaana behtar samajhti hoon.

[saavisays]

Raat bhar sochta raha ke

tum mujhe yaad aa rahi ho

ya main tumhe yaad kar raha hu.

[saavisays]

Raat bhar sochta raha ke

tum mujhe yaad aa rahi ho

ya main tumhe yaad kar raha hu.

[saavisays]

Yeh sach mein ajeeb hai lekin mai tohfein mein diye mehektein phoolon ko ek din se zyada apne paas nahi rakhti. Aap sochege shayd mujhe unko murjhatein huye dekhna achaa nahi lagta. Haan yeh sach toh hai magar pura nahin. Asal mein aur pholon ko murjhatein huye dekh mai unhe woh jagah nahin dena chahti joh maine apne kitab mein rakhe woh ek sookhein gulab ko di thi.

(Vohi gulab lekar aaya tha woh mujhse aakhri baar milne)

[saavisays]

Yeh sach mein ajeeb hai lekin mai tohfein mein diye mehektein phoolon ko ek din se zyada apne paas nahi rakhti. Aap sochege shayd mujhe unko murjhatein huye dekhna achaa nahi lagta. Haan yeh sach toh hai magar pura nahin. Asal mein aur pholon ko murjhatein huye dekh mai unhe woh jagah nahin dena chahti joh maine apne kitab mein rakhe woh ek sookhein gulab ko di thi.

(Vohi gulab lekar aaya tha woh mujhse aakhri baar milne)

[saavisays]

I’m in that phase where I keep standing in front of things I should be fixing, my room, my notes, my life, but I don’t actually start anything. I just look at everything like it’s going to magically become easier if I stare at it long enough. I open a book, read the same line twice, and still have zero idea what it said. Then suddenly I’m deep-cleaning a random corner of my desk like that was the urgent mission all along. My phone keeps ending up in my hand without any consent, and I only realize I’ve been scrolling when I forget why I even unlocked it. Time moves forward like it’s on a productivity streak, and I’m just here negotiating with the concept of “starting.” I know exactly what needs to be done, but I treat the first step like it requires some kind of divine approval. So I just stand there, fully aware, fully prepared, fully not moving, because obviously the best strategy is to wait for motivation to arrive on its own, isn't it?

[saavisays]

You ever type something just to share a small moment, something so random it almost feels stupid to even send, but it still makes you smile while you’re typing it, like for a second you think “someone should know this,” so you open the chat, start writing like it’s nothing serious, and then you stop. You read it again and it suddenly feels unnecessary, like it won’t matter, like it’ll just disappear without a reply, so you delete it before sending and move on like nothing happened. But it’s not really about that message. It’s about how your mind has learned this pattern without you noticing. How many times you’ve shared things like this before and waited. How many times you’ve seen silence sit where a reply was supposed to be. How many times your small excitement didn’t really get mirrored back. So now it’s not even them stopping you. It’s you stopping you first. And maybe the real lesson isn’t to stop sharing, it’s to notice where your voice doesn’t feel small when you send it, because the right people never make you question if your little moments are worth telling or not.

[saavisays]

Fark bas itna tha ke ke tumne mohabbat ki thi aur mujhe ho gayi thi.

Fark bas itna tha ke ke tumne mohabbat ki thi aur mujhe bas ho gayi thi.

[saavisays]

"Hum pyaar mein haar gaye, meri jaan"

"Hume jeetne ki ijazat kaha thi"

— saavi

[saavisays]

I see people breaking up because of silly misunderstandings, kabhi kabhi lagta hai unhe baith kr samjhau ki kitne khush naseeb ho tum ke tumhari ladai ek dusre se hai, duniya se nahi. Tumhare paas woh sukoon hai jahan pyaar ko chhupna nahi padta, jahan haath pakadne se pehle sau baar sochna nahi padta. Tum lad sakte ho, rooth sakte ho, phir bhi wapas aa sakte ho, kyunki tumhare darmiyan sirf tum dono ho, koi aur nahi. Har kisi ko yeh naseeb nahi hota. Kuch mohabbatein aisi hoti hain jahan log ek dusre se nahi, poori duniya se ladte hain, aur phir bhi haar jaate hain. Isliye jab tum jab kisi chhoti baat par ek dusre ko chod dete ho, tum sirf ek rishta nahi todte tum us azaadi ki qadr bhi kho dete ho, jiske liye kuch log poori zindagi taraste rehte hain.

[saavisays]

“oh i’m not that serious with him”

funny, because your whole day shifts depending on how fast he texts back. your playlist changed after he said he liked that one band. you rewrite your messages three times so you sound chill, not clingy. you stalk his following list like it’s your part-time job, comparing yourself to strangers at 2 a.m. you say it’s casual, yet overthink on the way he types “goodnight.” If it’s really not that serious, why does it feel like you’re the only one taking it seriously at all?

Saavi