Hello Children. Yes, I’ve returned, like that one relative who always ‘just drops by.’ You didn’t ask for me, but deep down, you know you needed me….So I am back to where I started my art journey, WRITING. However, from now on it won’t just be stories, but a lot of other things. I am promising myself to be regular and keep posting something at least once a week. So this will be my weekly letter to the internet and your weekly excuse to procrastinate. We all win. Let’s hope I am able to keep up that promise. However, I just wanted to say, this time it’s different. I need you more than ever, my sweet readers. I want you to read my blogs and constantly give me reviews and what you think about them. Drop me some ideas and let’s see where I can take them and how long I can survive as a writer. So here’s the pilot episode of this blog series, think of it like Netflix, but with fewer production values and more emotional instability. Whether you like it or not, more is coming. So sit back, read like your life depends on it… because honestly, mine does. So here goes……

I like to believe I’m still young. I’m 25. That’s peak millennial-Gen Z borderland, right? I should be out here slaying and vibing and whatever else people my age are apparently doing instead of googling “how to make friends without talking to them” for the 15th time. But the more I hear people talk, the more I realize that either I skipped a generation… or the English language did.

I think I’ve got a decent grasp on language. I mean, I know my there/their/they’re, I can use “whom” without getting a nosebleed, and I don’t add “LOL” at the end of serious texts unless I’m actively having a breakdown. But lately, I’ve started to notice that modern lingo is less about communication and more about an elaborate, ever-evolving inside joke that I’m clearly not invited to. The other day someone told me their friend was “so real for that.” For what? For breathing? For having a mild opinion? For liking MS Dhoni? What does “so real” even mean anymore? Apparently it means, to be relatable. Goddammit, in my day, which was, again, like, 2018, we said things like “relatable” or “same” and moved on. Now it’s all dramatic pauses and emotional Oscars for saying ‘I didn’t sleep well’. Congrats, you’re tired… like all of us.

Then came the word “delulu.” as in, short for “delusional.” Except now it’s cute to be delusional? “Delulu is the solulu,” they say, and I’m like, should I be seeking therapy or a merch drop? Because honestly, if being emotionally unhinged is now an Instagram approved personality trait, then cheers to me, I’ve been accidentally trendy since 2011. Every now and then, the English language punches me in the throat with a brand-new phrase that makes me question if the youth are okay. Recently, someone described their office culture as “very cheugy,” and I was like, “Is that a compliment? An illness? A cheese variant? A new jaw-exercise?” Turns out, cheugy is slang for things that are considered out of style by the under 25s. Like saying “YOLO,” reading newspaper, wearing jeans, or using Facebook unironically. So basically, existing in my case.

The problem with modern lingo is that it’s fast, it’s cryptic, and it changes quicker than my enthusiasm for small talk at weddings. One minute someone says “slay” and you think they’re talking about Game of Thrones, the next you find out it’s high praise. “She slayed!” means she did a good job. Meanwhile, your confused boomer brain is still picturing someone in medieval armour committing war crimes.

Then there’s “based,” which means speaking the truth, even if it’s as unpopular as saying Hindi isn’t our mother tongue. And ‘sus’? That’s usually bad… unless you’re watching Parliament debates lately, in which case, being sus is practically part of the job description.And let’s not even get into emojis. The crying laughing emoji is dead. Now, to show laughter, you must either use a skull, because you’ve “died laughing” or type “💀💀💀” repeatedly like you’re a mortician with a phone addiction.

At one point I genuinely thought someone had suffered a stroke mid-text because their message read, “That fit? Lowkey fire. But the vibes? Hella mid. Not me being petty af tho 💅.” Tried decoding that sentence like I was a politician watching Empuraan and trying not to be offended. Three minutes later, all I got was a migraine and the uncomfortable feeling that I, too, might get dragged into a PIL just for trying to understand modern slang.

It’s especially hard because no one explains these things to you. You’re just expected to learn it via memes, reels, or sheer embarrassment. There’s no onboarding process. No friendly pop-up that says, “Welcome to the internet, would you like a tutorial?” No. You just get dunked on in the comments until you Google your way back to relevance…

So yeah. I’m 25. Technically young. But also spiritually exhausted. I don’t “slay,” I barely survive. I don’t have “rizz,” I have mild anxiety and a partially good credit score. I don’t speak in trends, I speak in complete sentences like an absolute loser. And you know what? That’s fine. Because at the end of the day, I may not understand what “it’s giving” is giving, but I do understand peace and quiet and people who use punctuation.

And maybe, just maybe, one day the universe will have mercy, lean over, and whisper gently into my ear, “Your slang era is over, brother… But at least you never said ‘bussin’ out loud.” And if all else fails, I can always fall back on the most timeless, universal phrase that transcends age, culture, and vibe:

“Bro, what does that even mean?”

Hope you all liked this blog post. So for more, give me a follow on all the social media platforms you know me on. I’ll update you there about all the blog posts I am putting out. Do subscribe and follow me here as well, and if you liked this, do give it a like. And finally, thank you so much for staying till this point; it really is encouraging, and don’t forget to drop a text saying what you thought about this post and what you expect from this blogpost. Thank you once again.

Cheers