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Sakshi Bhagat

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  • Nov 23, 2024 | hercampus.com | Sakshi Bhagat

    You’re up again, befriending the ceiling, caught in the throes of an overstimulated mind. The hum of thoughts, unrelenting and chaotic, fills the void where feelings once lived. In this haze, clarity is a distant memory, replaced by questions unraveling everything you thought you knew. The haze thickens—a fog sterilized by indulgence, dulling the sharp edges of reality. Five fans spin above in unison, merging into one dizzying gaze.

  • Nov 16, 2024 | hercampus.com | Sakshi Bhagat

    Edited By: Sreenandana S Nair Love, or rather, ideal love is depicted as a beautiful everlasting connection with someone. One with whom you stick through the test of time. People say the best kind of love is when you grow old together, when you go through life’s ups and downs and finally reach the final stages of it hand in hand. Who doesn’t yearn for this kind of love? Yet, I can’t help but wonder if it’s truly that simple.

  • Oct 13, 2024 | hercampus.com | Sakshi Bhagat

    Dear younger me,I did it. I achieved your dream board only to realise that you are mine. I attained the academic accolades you dreamt of, the coveted positions you once yearned for, and I am now enrolled in the college that you held in such high regard. Yet, as I stand on the summit of these achievements, I find myself compelled to convey that I may not be the embodiment of your idealised self.

  • Oct 6, 2024 | hercampus.com | Sakshi Bhagat

    They say my body holds a spirituality. Maybe that’s why it comes with a free pass—permission given without asking, expectations loaded onto shoulders I never agreed to bear. Standing under the shower, water mingles with the blood leaving my body, and with each drop, I feel as though my dignity is being bled away. Every inch of me, every decision I should be allowed to make, is somehow dictated by what society deems acceptable for me, for my gender. Why do I need a say?

  • Oct 6, 2024 | hercampus.com | Sakshi Bhagat

    Fighting for what I thought was ours. Every step we took felt like another chapter of a story I was desperate to hold onto. Every day, we made it count, but all along, I was counting the hours, silently aware that our time was slipping through my fingers. You faded away like the setting sun, leaving me alone to navigate a world that had once felt so full with you by my side. It wasn’t just the heartbreak that hit me—it was the silence that followed.

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