Hello Mr. panic button , I know… I know It’s a crazy critical time right now. Everybody has always made such a big deal about 10th ke boards and 12th ke boards that the results feel like an even bigger deal than it honestly is. But don’t you worry I am here now.

I understand that getting lower marks than expected can hurt. Especially when you worked hard and imagined a completely different result. It’s okay to feel disappointed. You don’t have to immediately become some enlightened baba going, “One sheet of paper does not decide my future.” But for now, give yourself a couple days to accept the result. You can mope, eat junk food, cry to MITSKI or Arijit depending on your music taste. But after that, we move. 

Once you have dealt with and accepted your own feelings, it is time for the next step. Talking to your parents. Yes thoda scary hai but sometimes thanks to our overactive imagination, we overthink things into something that is not even real. Maybe your parents do not think it is that big of a deal but their silence has made you think of a whole other storytime where they are on the phone with every single relative doing a full rona-dhona session about where it all went wrong.

So the second step is to stop assuming. You live in the same house as them, get up, get out of the room and go talk to your parents. And go in there with zero expectations. They might be happy, they might be sad or they might start with ‘We are not angry, just disappointed,’ which honestly is a whole other horror movie. Deal with it once you know how they actually feel. Sitting in your room manifesting a different marksheet is not going to work, trust me, we all tried.

And if they do get upset, let them. Do not argue, do not explain yourself for forty five minutes, just listen. You can have a conversation once everyone has had chai and calmed down.

Now back to you. First things first, please check your options before panicking. Or better yet, just check your options and completely cancel the panic. Cut-offs shift every year, waiting lists move, and honestly there is a whole other universe of good colleges and courses that you might not have reached yet. So do your research. You will surprise yourself.

Also if something on your marksheet genuinely does not add up, you can apply for re-checking or re-evaluation. Half of the stress is not even the marks. It is the fear that someone will go, ‘AcHaAaA you think the teacher made a mistake?’ but do not let this one slip just because you’re afraid of the chaar log kya kahenge.

And if you are thinking about entrance exams, gap years, switching streams, moving to the mountains and becoming a photographer or literally any other path or even if you are confused about what to do next, talk to someone who has actually been through it. A senior, a counsellor, a cousin, just someone real. There are way more options than the three everyone keeps talking about. We all know what three I am talking about.

One last thing and I promise I will stop. Put your phone down. Your mental health does not need to hear ‘Guys I barely studied’ from someone who solved 14 sample papers for fun.

You are going to be fine. Now go drink some water, have that conversation with your parents, and take the next small step. One thing at a time.

11:00 a.m.

The CBSE website was supposed to open at 11.

It is now 11:37.

I have refreshed the page so many times that even Google Chrome is judging me personally. At one point my laptop froze and I genuinely whispered, “Please don’t do this to me,” like it was a dying character in a movie.

The website keeps showing:
“Error.”

Thank you. Very helpful. Revolutionary information.

Mumma has walked into my room at least 19 times pretending she “just came to keep clothes.” Sure. And I’m Shah Rukh Khan.

Papa suddenly cares deeply about internet speed.

“WiFi theek chal raha hai?”
“Roll number ready rakho.”
“Laptop charge pe lagao.”

BRO I KNOW.

Meanwhile my relatives have unlocked Olympic-level timing.

“Beta result aaya???”

No aunty. The Education Ministry called and said they’re waiting for my permission first.

And why does result day make the whole house feel like India vs Pakistan finals? Everybody becomes weirdly serious. Even my younger brother was sitting quietly in the corner eating Kurkure and staring at me like I was about to get voted out of a reality show.

I tried distracting myself for some time. Opened Instagram. Biggest mistake of my life.

People had already started posting:
“Hard work pays off”
“Proud of myself”
“98.6%”

Brother ewww.

I immediately closed the app because suddenly I was convinced I had failed every subject including English, which is embarrassing because this diary entry itself is in English.

By 11:42 my body had fully betrayed me.

Hands sweaty.

Heart beating way too fast.

Leg shaking like crazy.

Stomach doing cartwheels.

I kept getting random thoughts every two seconds:
“What if I fail math?”
“What if everyone scores better than me?”
“What if my result doesn’t load and technically I remain academically unborn forever?”

And the worst part is that waiting somehow feels worse than the actual result.

Because when you don’t know what’s about to happen, your brain becomes Netflix. It starts creating dramatic storylines nobody asked for.

Suddenly I was imagining:

• becoming “the disappointing cousin”
• deleting WhatsApp forever
• avoiding eye contact with society
• running away to the mountains and starting a peaceful goat farm

All before a PDF even loaded.

Apparently this whole panic mode is called the fight-or-flight response. Your brain thinks something huge and dangerous is happening, so it releases stress chemicals like adrenaline and cortisol.

Which is honestly so dramatic because no tiger is chasing me.

It’s literally marks.

But your body doesn’t know the difference. So your heart races, your palms sweat, and your brain starts overthinking every life decision you’ve ever made since Class 3.

At around 11:51, the page finally loaded for TWO seconds before crashing again.

I almost screamed.

Mumma from outside:
“AAYA??”

ME:
“NO IT LEFT AGAIN.”

By then the entire family had gathered behind me. I could FEEL people breathing near my shoulders. Why do Indian families watch results together like it’s a public event? Please let me fail privately if needed.

Then finally.

FINALLY.

The page opened properly.

My marks appeared.

I just stared at the screen for a solid five seconds because my brain stopped processing numbers. Everything went weirdly silent for a moment.

And then?

Nothing dramatic happened.

The world didn’t end.

Nobody fainted.

The ceiling fan continued spinning peacefully.

Mumma just said, “Achha hai,” after causing me emotional damage for four hours straight.

Honestly, after all that panic, the actual result felt almost anticlimactic.

But those few minutes before checking it?

Actually terrifying.

I think I aged emotionally by at least 12 years before noon.

You know that feeling when you’ve been “studying” since 9 a.m., your back is in pain, your water bottle is empty…AGAIN, your highlighters are fighting for their lives… and yet by 9 p.m. you feel like you’ve achieved absolutely nothing?

Yeah. That.

From the outside, I look productive. I’m at my desk. I’ve got sticky notes. I’ve even made a timetable that looks like it belongs on Pinterest. If productivity had a photoshoot, I’d be shortlisted.

But internally? It’s giving “buffering…” I read one page and immediately think, “What if this exact line comes for 5 marks and I forget it?” I solve five math questions and instead of feeling proud, I fixate on the two I got wrong. I take a 15-minute break and my brain goes, “Wah. Aise aenge marks?” It’s not that I’m not studying. I am. I’m just also overthinking. Constantly.

The other day I studied biology for three hours. THREE. And at the end of it, I genuinely couldn’t tell if I had learned anything or just stared at a wall all day. I felt guilty, frustrated, and slightly betrayed by my own brain.

So I called my friend Rhea.

I didn’t plan to have a serious talk. I just wanted something that wasn’t my thoughts screaming “boards boards boards.” But three minutes in, I blurted out, “Do you ever feel like you study all day and still feel like you’ve done nothing?”

She didn’t even hesitate. “Bro. Every day.” And honestly that “bro” healed something in me.

She said she spends half her time imagining the exam hall instead of focusing on the chapter. I admitted that I measure productivity by how long I sit, not by what I understand. If I sit for eight hours, I think I should feel accomplished. So when I don’t, I assume something is wrong…with ME!

At one point she said, “Okay, close your book. Tell me what you remember.” I panicked. “I don’t remember anything.” “Just try.”

And when I forced myself to talk, I actually remembered stuff. Not word-for-word definitions. But concepts. Examples. Connections. Things had gone in. They were just hiding under layers of stress.

That’s when I realised something: I’m not studying peacefully. I’m stress-studying. I keep re-reading because I don’t trust myself. I don’t move ahead because “what if I forget?” I don’t celebrate small progress because it doesn’t look dramatic enough.

We decided to try something basic. Study in shorter bursts. Take actual breaks without feeling like we should be sent to jail for it. And after every session, explain the topic out loud like we’re teaching it to someone else.

The next day, I tried it.

Was I suddenly a topper? No. Did I still get distracted by my phone? Obviously. But at the end of the day, instead of thinking “I did nothing,” I wrote down three things I had actually done.

1. Finished one chemistry chapter.
2. Solved 12 math problems (even if 4 were wrong).
3. Finally understood that one physics concept that SHOULD BE IN JAIL.

Seeing it written down felt different. Not dramatic. Not filmy. Just… real.

I think exam burnout is weird because it doesn’t always look like crying over books. Sometimes it’s just sitting there all day and feeling like an NPC in your own academic storyline. You’re present, but not convinced you’re progressing.

Talking to Rhea didn’t magically fix my life. I still have days where I spiral. I still compare myself to that one friend who claims they’re on their fourth revision (respectfully, I don’t trust them).

But now, when my brain says, “You did nothing today,” I pause.

Did I actually do nothing?

Or did I just not give myself credit?

Sometimes the answer is that I need to focus better. And sometimes the answer is that I’m just tired and scared and putting too much pressure on myself.

Either way, I’m learning this slowly: effort doesn’t always feel epic. Sometimes it feels messy. Sometimes it feels mid. But it still counts.

And if you’re sitting at your desk right now feeling the same way, just know you’re not the only one. We’re all out here trying. Thoda sa overwhelmed, thoda sa dramatic, but still trying.

And honestly? That’s not nothing.

Do you have anything on your mind? Share with us in the comment box below. Remember not to put any personal information in the comment box.

Heyyy. Very valid question. Because let’s be honest you’re not the only one confused about this one. Gaslighting is one of those words that shows up everywhere. Reels, rants, comment sections, random conversations in school. Everyone uses it very confidently but  … but the moment you ask, “Okay, but what does it actually mean?” suddenly everyone needs water, WiFi, and time to think.

So let’s talk about it properly. 

What gaslighting actually means

Gaslighting is when someone makes you doubt your own thoughts, feelings, or memory.

And no, it’s not dramatic. There’s no big fight, no dhum tana nana na in the background, no moment where you dramatically realise the truth while staring out of a window.

It’s more like this. You’re sure about how something felt. Then five minutes later you’re thinking, “Wait… am I being dramatic?” even though nothing actually changed.

You didn’t imagine it. Your brain is just being messed with.

Let’s say you tell a friend, “I felt really bad when you ignored me all day.”

They reply, “What are you talking about? I didn’t ignore you.”

Now you’re mentally opening WhatsApp, Instagram, your memory, your soul. Did they actually ignore you or did you just overreact? Did they reply late or did you check too fast?

If this happens once, fine. If this becomes a pattern, welcome to overthinking season.

Why gaslighting is about control

Gaslighting is not just lying or remembering things differently. It’s about always needing to be right.

One person becomes the final authority on reality. The other starts collecting screenshots like evidence, over explaining feelings, and practising conversations in the shower that may never even happen.

That’s not communication. That’s emotional chess, and you didn’t even agree to play. Gaslighting does not only happen in romantic relationships.

It can happen in friendships when someone says something rude and later says, “I was joking, why are you being dramatic?” It can happen in friend groups where your reaction gets more attention than what actually caused it. It can even happen at home when your feelings are dismissed as unnecessary drama.

Basically, if the sentence starts with “Why are you reacting like this?” instead of “Why did I do that?” take note.

Common gaslighting lines you might recognise

These phrases deserve their own playlist because they show up so often.

“You’re overreacting.”
“That never happened.”
“You’re too sensitive.”
“Why do you make everything such a big deal?”

Hearing these once in a while is normal. Hearing them every single time you speak up is not.

How gaslighting usually makes you feel

Gaslighting often leaves you feeling confused and weirdly guilty. You might apologise even when you’re not sure what you’re apologising for.

You may stop bringing things up because explaining yourself feels tiring. Staying quiet starts to feel easier, even though it shouldn’t.

If silence feels safer than talking, something is off.

Gaslighting versus normal disagreements

Disagreements are normal. Different opinions are normal.

In a healthy disagreement, someone might say, “I don’t see it that way, but I get why you felt bad.” In gaslighting, the response sounds more like, “Why are you like this?”

One response listens. The other shuts things down.

If someone keeps making you doubt your memory, your reactions, or your feelings, pause and notice it. You’re not “too much.” You’re just responding to something real.

You deserve relationships where you can talk without feeling like you need screenshots, witnesses, or a full presentation to be taken seriously.

Always.

Got a question or a doubt? Then come Ask Disha! The coolest Trusted Adult in India, Disha, will answer all your queries on Growing Up! Post them in the comments box below or send them to our Insta inbox! Disha will respond to them in upcoming columns. Please remember not to put out any personal information. 

OMG Tanisha. I can relate to you! I mean there was a time when people asked me about my boyfriend and I told them, bro, i want to focus on my studies and so I am single and people reacted like you just revealed a secret plot twist? “Really? But how?” “Are you sure?”
“Koi toh hoga.” As if a boyfriend is like Aadhaar – everyone must have one. 

But don’t worry, you Disha baba is here! I will tell you exactly what to do in such situations and how to handle them. But first off, let’s get one thing clear – not having a boyfriend or girlfriend is completely okay. You are NOT boring or weird. And no, you are not “missing out on life”. Okay. Deep breath taken. Now let’s talk.

The same old script

One major reason for this reaction is society’s obsession with relationships. Movies, reels, cousins, even random aunties have taught us that if you’re not dating, your life must be… empty. Tragic. Background music missing. 

Life is shown as a straight path where romance is a compulsory milestone. 

So when someone is happily single, people panic. System error. Page not found. Not because being single is wrong, but because it challenges what they have been taught is normal.

What they hear vs what you mean

People confuse being single with being lonely. Single is a status. Lonely is a feeling. They are not twins. At best, they’re distant cousins.

You can be single and focused on yourself, busy building your life, enjoying friendships, and liking your own company. 

And plot twist: People in relationships can be lonely too. Yes. Even with matching WhatsApp wallpapers.

Among teens, comfort with being alone is often misunderstood. Think of the person who always needs to be talking to someone, crushing on someone, or texting someone. Silence makes them uncomfortable. 

Now think of someone who is okay spending time alone, listening to music, studying, or just existing peacefully. 

The first person might assume the second is lonely, when actually they are simply comfortable with themselves. Unfortunately, self-comfort is rarely celebrated, so it gets treated as a problem.

Label lagao, please

Ever notice how some people can’t be alone for five minutes? They need someone to text. Someone to crush on. Someone to update.

Silence scares them. Now imagine someone who is okay sitting alone, studying, listening to music, or just existing without constant notifications.

Guess who gets labelled “sad”? Yep. The peaceful one. Because being comfortable with yourself is still very underrated.

People love labels. Single. Taken. Complicated. It helps them relax. When you don’t fit neatly into a box, they don’t know what to do with you. So instead of questioning the system, they question you.

But life isn’t a Google Form you must fill correctly. There is no relationship syllabus.Some people date early. Some people focus on goals. Some people don’t want the headache right now. Some people just… don’t want one. All normal.

The idea that everyone must reach the “relationship chapter” at the same time is completely made up.

Why they low-key can’t handle you

Here’s the real reason. When you’re single and fine with it, it makes others uncomfortable. It quietly asks a dangerous question: “What if happiness doesn’t need a relationship?” Instead of thinking about that, people joke, tease, or say, “You’ll change your mind.” Much easier.

Final reality check

Being single is not weird. It’s not a waiting room. It’s not a defect. It’s just a phase of life. Or a choice. Or both. You don’t owe anyone a boyfriend. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.
And you definitely don’t owe society a love story at 16. You’re fine. The system is just dramatic.

Got a question or a doubt? Then come Ask Disha! The coolest Trusted Adult in India, Disha, will answer all your queries on Growing Up! Post them in the comments box below or send them to our Insta inbox! Disha will respond to them in upcoming columns. Please remember not to put out any personal information. 

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Tara. She wasn’t trapped in a spooky castle or cursed by a witch. Nope. Her tower was more modern and, honestly, way sneakier: it was her own home, ruled by ultra-strict parents who had rules for literally everything.

No phone after 9 PM. No hanging out with friends on weekdays. No loud music. No late-night snacks. Basically, no fun without parental Wi-Fi approval. Tara felt like Rapunzel stuck in a tower… except her tower had Wi-Fi, and instead of a magical braid, she had… homework and guilt.

At first, Tara thought she could outsmart it. She imagined a Tangled-level rescue: a friend, a sibling, maybe even a mysterious stranger on a motorbike (okay, Flynn Rider) who’d swoop in, hand her a starbucks with her name on it, and tell her, “Let’s goo.”

Reality check: Flynn Rider never showed up. And swinging out the window on a braid? Not an option. Her attempts to sneak out always ended in her parents catching her mid-text or mid-sneak snack raid. Tara was officially grounded, again.

Even her hobbies started betraying her. Painting? Meh. Guitar? More like “ugh, why bother.” Texting friends? Exhausting. TikTok scrolling? Somehow more stressful than her algebra homework. And the real plot twist? Her brain had joined the parental team. “You’re lazy.” “Why can’t you be like your cousin, Aisha, who’s running a YouTube channel AND learning French?”

Then one evening, Tara had a moment. She grabbed her notebook,yes, an actual notebook, not Notes on her phone and started scribbling: the frustration, the boredom, the feeling that she was trapped in a real-life TikTok reel called “Teen Trapped at Home: Day 437.”

She realized the tower wasn’t just her parents’ rules, it was also her own expectations. She’d been comparing herself to everyone online: cousins, friends, strangers making viral videos. And honestly? She was exhausted.

And then came her Rapunzel glow-up moment. She didn’t need a dramatic escape. She needed a strategy:

• Asking to stay out a little longer without sending a 50-message group chat to plead.
• Negotiating music time in her room without blasting it so loud it triggered the parental alarm system.
• Scheduling short “freedom breaks” to paint, play guitar, prank her brother, or binge-watch a show she actually likes (yes, even reality TV counts).

Suddenly, the tower didn’t feel like a trap. Tara realized walls aren’t always prison walls—they can be practice spaces for negotiation, patience, and tiny rebellions that don’t get you grounded for life.

And slowly, things changed. She didn’t magically become the queen of independence overnight. Some days she still stared at the ceiling, thinking, “Why am I like this?” But now she had tricks up her sleeve, moments to laugh, and a legit sense of control.

The twist? Tara didn’t need Flynn Rider, a magical braid, or some epic escape. She realized the real rescue was her own courage, her creativity, and a little bit of teen-level strategy. The tower hadn’t disappeared but she had figured out how to live in it without losing herself.

Moral of the story: sometimes the hero isn’t the mysterious stranger or the viral trend. Sometimes it’s just you… learning how to wiggle, sneak, negotiate, and laugh your way out of a TikTok-length tower moment.

The End

Last year on Diwali, the loudest thing in my house wasn’t the crackers outside, it was my cousin Rohan screaming because someone cheated in cards. My nani was yelling from the kitchen, “Do NOT enter the house with your slippers on!” My uncle was showing off his “scientific technique” to light rockets safely and then promptly burning his eyebrows.

It was chaos. It was crazy. It was home.

But this year? It’s different.

No cars lining up outside. No cousins fighting for the good mattress. No smell of burnt chaklis or over-fried gulab jamuns. Just… a quiet house with fairy lights trying their best to glow like nothing’s wrong.

My phone wasn’t exploding with “Aaj ka plan kya hai?” messages. Instead, it was full of “Sorry yaar, can’t come this time.”

Rohan shifted to Bangalore for college. My bua’s family has some “issues” going on, so they’re skipping this year. And my little brother, who once danced like a malfunctioning robot to every Diwali song, now had only one plan – a gaming tournament at 8PM. Do Not Disturb.

I tried to distract myself. I helped mom clean, I hung the lantern outside, I even arranged diyas like Instagram aesthetic reels… but midway through, I just stopped. I stood on the balcony yesterday, fairy lights shining around me, and for the first time ever… It didn’t feel like Diwali.

Was it just me? Was I being dramatic? Do festivals stop feeling festive when we grow up? Or was this what everyone secretly felt but never admitted?

The conversation

I didn’t say anything to anyone, but my mom noticed. Moms have that superpower. 

She walked in with a box of diyas and paused. “Tu theek hai na?” 

I tried to fake it. “Yeah yeah, just tired.”

She raised an eyebrow. Moms can sniff lies better than dogs sniff biscuits.

After a moment, I sighed. “It just… doesn’t feel like Diwali. I thought festivals were supposed to be fun. But this time I’m just… not feeling it.”

She didn’t give me a lecture. She didn’t say “Be grateful! At least we’re together!” No emotional blackmail. Instead, she sat beside me and quietly said: “You know, when I was your age, I felt exactly like this.”

That surprised me. Moms feeling like us? Rare content.

She continued, “One year, everyone got busy. No relatives came. The house was clean, food was cooked, lights were on… but my heart felt switched off. For a moment I thought,  maybe Diwali is only fun when you’re small.”

I looked at her. “So what did you do?”

She smiled slightly. “I cried a little. Then I got angry. Then I got up… and decided if the old Diwali wasn’t coming back, I’d make a new one. I invited the neighbours for tea, played music loudly, made laddoos with Papa. Guess what? It was different. But it was still Diwali.”

It wasn’t easy but I decided to take charge of Diwali myself. 

I picked up my phone and texted my cousins:

“9PM. Video call. Ludo or Truth-or-Dare. Don’t be boring.”

Rohan sent five skull emojis and a “Loser will do a Diwali dance challenge.” Accepted.

I barged into my brother’s room and declared, “We’re making a new Diwali playlist. EDM meets Aarti version.” He rolled his eyes but secretly smirked.

Then I sat outside and started making a rangoli, not perfectly, not beautifully. Just honestly.

And you know what?

The silence didn’t go away. But it didn’t feel lonely anymore.

If you’re feeling this too…

Maybe your Diwali looks different this year.
Maybe fewer people. Maybe someone is missing. Maybe you are in a new place, trying to smile when your heart isn’t fully there.

It’s okay.

Festivals don’t stop being special just because they’ve changed. Sometimes… they’re just waiting for us to grow into a new version of them.

So if this Diwali feels different. Light your diyas anyway. Call your people anyway. Laugh even if it’s quieter.

Because Diwali isn’t only about who’s around you.

It’s also about the light you decide to keep inside you.

Happy Yours-Your-Way Diwali.

Honestly, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve said this out loud or screamed it inside my head. It usually happens after yet another conversation with my parents that ends in a lecture, a misunderstanding, or sometimes just silence. Every time I try to talk to them about what I’m feeling, it somehow turns into something else. One moment I’m just saying I’m tired, and the next they’re telling me I’m lazy or wasting time. The conversation derails, and the real reason I started talking just… vanishes.

After a while, I started avoiding these conversations altogether. Not because I didn’t want to talk, but because I wanted to avoid the drama that followed. But here’s the thing, as teenagers, we do need to talk to our parents. We need support, we need someone to tell us that it’s okay to be confused or tired or unsure. We need their affirmations. But whenever we try, something goes wrong. It’s like our words and their meanings get lost in translation.

When I say, “I’m tired,” I don’t mean I’m physically lazy. I mean I’m mentally exhausted, with school, friends, choices, expectations, and sometimes even with myself. When I ask for privacy or space, I’m not hiding anything; I just need time to be alone with my thoughts. But it somehow becomes a question of trust. And avoiding them doesn’t help either. It leaves me with guilt. Like I’m letting them down. Like they’re angry at me. And slowly, the frustration and guilt mix together and make me feel like I’m not enough. Like I’ll never be good enough in their eyes.

But deep down, I know they aren’t wrong either.

They grew up in a completely different world. One without constant pings from social media, fewer choices to make, and fewer people to compare themselves to. They had struggles too, just of a different kind. Maybe that’s why it’s hard for them to understand what it’s like to be us, trying to find ourselves in a world that keeps changing every second. They didn’t have to make five life decisions by the age of 17 or live under the constant pressure to ‘do more’ and ‘be more.’

Sometimes I feel like they want to help, they just don’t know how. And we need help too, but not in the way they’re used to giving it. So when they check our phones or tell us we’re on the wrong track, it feels like an attack. And we start saying “It’s alright” even when it isn’t, just to end the conversation.

And the gap gets wider.

But I don’t think it has to stay this way forever. We’re not against each other — we just see things differently. Same world, just looking at it from different sides. 

And maybe the only way to come closer is to start talking again. Like really talking. Not arguing. Not saying “you don’t get me.” Just calmly explaining what’s on our mind. And actually listening too (even if it’s kinda hard). We can also try saying things in a way they’ll understand like writing it down, talking when things are chill, or even sending them a meme or video that can sometimes explain what we feel better than we can.

It won’t be perfect. It won’t be instant. But it’s a start.
Because I know, even if they see south and I see north, we’re still looking at the same sky.

And that has to count for something.

Would you like to share your feelings with TeenBook? Send us your thoughts in the comments box! Remember, not to put any personal information in the comment box.

Dear Diary,

Today it happened again. My dadi had to work late, and I was left alone to figure out dinner. I tried making pasta, but I burned it. It’s not just about the burnt pasta, though. It’s about wanting someone to be there, you know? Someone to help me when I mess up, or just to talk about my day. It feels like everyone else has that… but me. 

When I look around, I see my friends enjoying dinner with their parents. I try to distract myself by watching reels, but then I scroll and see people posting family pictures.

It was Father’s Day two days ago. Everyone was going out and celebrating, and here I was trying to find the age of Mary by solving linear equations. Haha, crazy night na?

As I watched myself from the outside, I wondered how many others like me are quietly struggling, their stories hidden behind everyday smiles. Growing up without parental support is like walking with invisible weights. The smallest things like school, dinner, waking up on time can become a big deal.

The absence of someone to guide you, to check in, to just be there… leaves a weird kind of emptiness. Sometimes, I feel like I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders with juggling school, chores, and this constant pressure to not mess up. I can’t help but wonder why my world feels so different.

The emotional void left by a missing parent can be overwhelming. It makes you question your worth, your abilities. I start doubting if I can even trust people properly. Because when you grow up without steady support, you kind of train yourself not to expect it.

Insecurity keeps popping up, especially when simple decisions start feeling like mountain-sized challenges. Who do I ask for advice? Who do I trust with my fears? I often feel alone in my struggles, and the emotional load becomes just… too much.

It’s hard, yaar. Balancing personal stuff, controlling your emotions, and still trying to be “normal”, to laugh, to fit in, to seem okay.

Sometimes, a child just wants someone to see beyond their brave face. Like when someone casually asks, “What does your dad or mom do?”  and then immediately follows it up with “Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss.” And I’m like, roz ka wahi “No, it’s fine” bolna. But is it really fine?

Still, despite all of this, I hold on to one thing, hope. Hope that someday I’ll find strength in these struggles. That the wounds will start to heal. I wish the world was a little kinder, a little more understanding towards kids like us.

Because we’re not just our struggles. We’re young souls trying to figure out life, fighting silent battles every single day.

Tomorrow’s a new day. I’ll try to face it with a little more courage and the reminder that maybe, just maybe, I’m not as alone as I feel.

Would you like to share your feelings with TeenBook? Send us your thoughts in the comments box! Remember, not to put any personal information in the comment box.

Ok, so you might’ve read fifty articles or self-help books. Gone through three hundred motivational quotes or skimmed through some science articles on this. The truth? As overused as some of the things in this article are, they actually hold true. 

A few years ago, during the pandemic, I was also a complete screen addict. It didn’t help that we were all confined to our homes. My average screen time was 7 hours, and there were days when I would spend up to 8 or 9 hours just staring at blue light. On a holiday, my laptop and I were inseparable. When I got back from school, I’d hop on Minecraft and grind away. I was pretty much spending 80% of my day doing nothing on the screen, and most of the time, I ended up getting zero exercise. Now, this went on for about two years or so. Wake up, school, return, play video games, watch YouTube, go to bed at like 11 PM. When I think back now, I feel kind of disgusted. So, what’s changed between now and then? 

Firstly, by no means am I completely off the screen. I still occasionally spend hours doing nothing or get caught up in scrolling. I still end up procrastinating – yes, it’s far from perfect. But, at least, it’s an improvement. Here’s the science behind screen addiction – and the methods that helped me escape it (and still help me out on a day-to-day basis):

Blame it on dopamine

Ah yes – the golden word. Dopamine. You’ve probably read this many times before, yet research constantly backs this fact. Things like notifications, social media, and video games trigger the brain’s nucleus accumbens – a part of the brain responsible for releasing dopamine. This makes you feel good and makes you want to repeat the actions that lead to releasing more dopamine. 

In fact, the dopamine loop activated by screen stimuli is similar to the effects of cocaine and similar substances. Pretty quickly, this constant release of dopamine makes you crave quick rewards, which can be problematic as it rewires your brain to avoid hard work, longer periods of concentration, and expect instant gratification.

The problem here? The truth is, pretty much everything in real life requires delayed gratification. Success isn’t instant, and you don’t get instant feedback after you do something. You solve a math problem, there’s no on-the-spot confetti or a “victory royale” sign when you do it – you just crack on with the next one. So when you score high on the end-of-year exam, it’s months of quiet, consistent effort, not instant knockouts. And that’s pretty much how real life is. 

They want you hooked

It becomes harder to beat the system when you realize that the people who made the apps you’re using actually use science and psychology to ensure it’s addictive. Many social media apps and video games are deliberately designed with that goal: to keep users hooked. Behind the scenes, their teams brainstorm new ways to make users scroll… and scroll… and scroll. 

Take the example of the beloved video game, Fortnite. Battle passes, loot boxes, frequent updates – all carefully designed mechanisms to keep users playing, gradually getting them addicted. YouTube, Instagram work similarly. You swipe… and swipe… and then swipe again. 

Hey! Someone liked my post! 

Oh no… so many dislikes too…

Yeah, so it’s pretty easy to get addicted when the guys who make your apps literally want you to. 

Your brain is lazy too

Science suggests that the human brain aims to conserve energy. If a task can be done with less effort, it’ll go for it. This is fine because it can help one work more efficiently, but it quickly becomes problematic when amplified with things like social media and gaming. 

Let’s say you have an exam to prepare for. Now, studying requires active concentration and genuine effort. Scrolling through Insta? Requires nothing other than mechanical finger swiping. So your brain will probably go towards the latter. 

But research also finds that the brain thrives on challenges, too, and gains a higher sense of accomplishment after completing effortful tasks. When immersed in a deeply challenging task, the brain enters into a “flow” state, which is a state of total concentration where the brain focuses entirely on the task at hand. The activity feels rewarding and enjoyable, and the effort begins to feel effortless.

It’s easy to numb your brain scrolling or tapping away at a screen, but way more challenging to put in genuine effort. It’s harder to reach a flow state than waste time, even though you’ll feel a lot more accomplished after completing a challenging task than doing nothing. 

Ok, so that’s the bad (but real) stuff. Now, how can you escape this matrix? I’ll share a few things that significantly helped me, so hopefully they can start you on your journey from 5% productivity to at least doing the important stuff:

1. Change your mindset

Nothing will really work if you don’t begin with a change in your mindset. Go from thinking “How can I enjoy myself?” to “How can I make a real difference?” or “What’ll set me up for success?”. A good book I’d recommend is Atomic Habits, which emphasizes that the first step to breaking a bad habit is to change your worldview. Only when you personally want to do things differently will you actually make a change. 

2. Pick up a sport

Most of the time, people will just tell you: “get some exercise”. But I find it’s even more effective when you play a sport, because it’s more likely that you’ll enjoy yourself. For me, this was chess and cricket. Pick up any sport you like watching, or have enjoyed playing, and take it up seriously. Be consistent; put in an hour or more every day, and you’ll start seeing progress and feel a sense of accomplishment. 

3. Start small

It might be daunting to suddenly turn around your life in a day, so you can start with the little things. I started with: “Instead of playing Minecraft from 5:00-6:00, can I play chess instead?” and worked my way up from there. Basically, replace each wasted hour with something more useful. So instead of scrolling through reels before dinner, you can decide to revise old math concepts or go through your chemistry notes.

4. Plan your day

Ok, this is one of my father’s. He always says it helped him. It’s a habit I’m also trying to build: keeping a routine diary. Just before going to bed or after waking up, decide what you’re going to do the next day. What’s your main goal going to be? Fill up each hour of the day with meaningful activities – what are you going to do when you come from school? When are you going to revise biology? When will you eat dinner? Pack in your schedule completely so you don’t have any time to waste and meander over to the screen. It’s difficult to start habits like this, so, once again, I’d recommend the book Atomic Habits to understand the science behind cultivating and maintaining habits. 

5. Discipline > 3am motivation

Motivation is the desire to act. Discipline is the ability to act when that desire is absent. Long-term habit building and success come through building discipline, not relying on fleeting sparks of that 3 AM motivation. Nobody’s perfect in this! Focus on building discipline instead of constantly trying to whip yourself into a burst of motivation. Motivation can be that initial spark, but it’s discipline and only discipline that’ll keep you pushing forward.

Remember, everything is usually fine in moderation. You can set aside an hour a day or so to catch up on whatever you wish to do on the screen, but it’s important to practice good digital hygiene and keep track of your time. From all that I’ve read and am still figuring out (big time!) — it’s a mix of your overall mindset, discipline, and habits that will propel you forward, but hey, you find that out on your own.

Do you have any questions for Science Lab? Post them in the comments box below. We will respond to them in our upcoming articles. Please don’t put any personal information.