Bakuɭ

  “Don’t you ever get tired of holding on to people?” It’s a question that comes up more often than expected. Sometimes directly, sometimes hidden between words like 'clingy,' or 'too much,'. There was a time I might’ve agreed. A time when silence stung, and unreciprocated efforts felt like rejection. Back then, I used to overthink a text that didn’t get a reply or wonder why I always had to be the one who reached out first. That’s changed. These days, I don’t hold on to people out of fear they’ll leave. I don’t reach out hoping they’ll stay. I send messages, check in, share little thoughts because I want to. Because it’s part of who I am. It doesn’t come with any expectation or a scoreboard. It takes ten seconds to send a thinking of you message. Maybe a minute to share a meme that reminded me of someone. A short call to say, 'I saw your favourite snack today and thought of you.' Small things. Nothing grand. Just everyday reminders that someone matters. ...

Like many of you, I didn’t know the meaning of flâneur until a friend called me one. Curious, I looked it up. A flâneur is someone who wanders with intention. An observer, an explorer, someone who absorbs the essence of a place . It felt like the perfect description of me. I may not have traveled extensively, but wherever I go, I notice things. Because to me, cities are like people; each with its own personality, rhythm, and way of being. Some cities never stop moving. They stretch and expand endlessly, always making room for more, like someone eager to please, constantly accommodating, never wanting to say no. These cities thrive on movement! More people, more buildings, more opportunities. Yet, in their rush to grow, they often lose something: breathing space, quality of life, even identity. Until the chaos itself becomes their identity. Then, there are cities that hold back. They resist change, setting limits to preserve their character, like someone who values their space and remai...