A Little Piece Lost

As a little girl, I remember crying because I couldn’t fall asleep. Now I end up crying instead of sleeping sometimes. I prefer not to cry because then I turn into Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer and one of those undead red-eyed zombies. But some incidents start off the waterworks.

My parrot died.

I am sorry, but I can’t write it any better. I suppose as a writer, I am meant to put my sorrows in words. All the great artists make their masterpieces in grief. But I feel angry at how unfair this is. I don’t want to write about loss. I don’t want to put it down in words because then it will all be real. Miles away from home, I can still imagine that my little parrot, who was as close as my baby sister, my cute little Piku, is still alive. She is still chirping, eating, biting everyone, and rushing to eat the phone as soon as I call. But here I am letting that delusion die and turning her from a little precious beating heart to just mere words. How is that fair?

I will never get to hear her bicker again, make her ride on my shoulder, or see her learn to fly. She didn’t even learn how to fly. How is this in any way fair? I know I sound like an infant bawling their eyes out over the tiniest of inconveniences, but I assure you that is not the case. I am a bit familiar with loss.

When my grandfather passed away, I was there to see it happen. I was there to hear the phone calls and listen to panic. I knew how everyone reacted, how weird it felt when the funeral pyre lit up. But that time it was different. I was there with everyone. It’s like I saw him in his final moments, and the acceptance stage came early.

But my poor Piku. I knew I might not meet her again. I decorated her cage with vines and leaves like a bride’s carriage. I thought she might learn to fly and go on her way to live a new life. I was okay with that. My little sister would be flying off, as I did, on her own terms, taking in life's ups and downs. But that was not the case for Piku. She got swooped off by a big, stupid, ugly bird, and she couldn’t even fly away. Before I put out the entire scene of her final moments, it’s better if you learn about her.

This reminds me of the time my mum said that we should write about our Bhua (father’s sister), who passed away during the pandemic. I wrote all her happy memories in my diary so I can look back and remember her in a positive light when she was strong and healthy.

Piku’s story didn’t start strong and healthy. She was attacked by a bird in her nest, fell from the tree, and a stray was gonna eat her when our gardener rescued her and asked my mum if she would like to keep her until her wings grew back. Around 4 months later, this is exactly how Piku dies. She was so tiny in the very first recording my mum shared. Her feathers were still a light shade of green. I went back home and spent my 3-week break with her. It was amazing having a pet parrot. She climbed on my shoulder and looked about curiously as if we were sailing on high tides.

My brother had prepared such a healthy diet plan for her. The bird was being fed sprouts, can you imagine? My dad, who said he didn’t like pets at all, was practically treating her like his third child. She was just so cute, dumb, and funny; we all fell in love with that little fluffball. She used to squeak and bite at us all the time. Whenever she used to nip my ears, I told her she needed to fight out there in the real world, but she was too distracted by her grains to look up at me with her beady eyes. Sometimes she did listen, cocking her head up as if focusing on our words. Silly bird.

 

Sometimes I think I should’ve sided with my brother and said it wasn't necessary to take Piku out for walks on the roof. In captivity, parrots can live for years and years. But we wanted to give her a taste of freedom. Did she like it? She just liked it when she got food, and if it were capsicum, she would absolutely go crazy.

Parents always try to give their kids freedom. It’s tough, but they can’t be held back. I think maybe I was like Piku. No, I am not ungrateful for being allowed to fly away to Australia. But like Piku, I didn’t claw at my cage or look longingly out of the window; I was happy eating in my cage, too. My home was not my prison. I was happy to walk indoors, like her. She got carried around on our arms, got fed more than three times a day, and got to throw tantrums all the time. What else would a green fluff ball need? I never sought freedom because my home is not a prison. I am grateful for that, but now that I am all alone on the roof, it gets scary at times.

I try to blend in with the leaves so as not to attract any predators. I mind my business or sometimes talk to some pigeons who, like me, are simple-minded, but mostly I gaze quietly at everything. There are so many sounds. People my age are talking and laughing, but I don’t have my cage around me. My parents are with me, but so far. I don’t know whether I want to go hang out with anyone. If I call them, I will blow my cover, but if I stay hidden, no one will see me.

My dad comes, and I go downstairs. Perched on my cage, I finally close my eyes to nap. The comfort of being safe, you feel it only when you are so exposed on the roof, when you fear taking every step.

Piku and I used to play the Jack Sparrow game, in which I would run like Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean, and she would cling to my belt. It’s weird how even a little, silly bird knows what fear is, knows who is keeping her safe, and knows how to act adorable to get her way. I miss my Pikli so much.

 She is not coming back. I will go back home, and her cage, her presence, everything will be gone. Years later, she will just become a distant memory I held. How can a bird cuddle with you? That’s such cat-like behaviour. If rebirth exists, she will surely be a cat.

Here I was sniffling about ordinary hardships when my parents told me that Pikli is no more. They didn’t tell me when it happened. They waited till I came to my place in the evening. It’s not fair how easily I can be cut off from happenings. The phone has made the world feel shorter. I think not. We think we are connected, but are we really? My mom and I cry miles apart for Piku, who is no longer near any of us.

I can’t hug my mom as she grieves this bird, who was her little kid. Piku used to follow my mom around the house. She was the passenger princess when my mum went out in the car. She used to cuddle with her as soon as my mom sat down and said, “cuddle time.” She used to make my mom laugh with her silly antics, and no, she can’t be replaced by any other bird. She came to my mom by a miracle. My mom didn’t buy her; she didn’t want a pet; she fell in love with the cutie who fell out of a tree and landed in her lap.

 

As I stand alone on this rooftop. Sometimes storms hit me hard. Yes, I am afraid. Do I know how to fly? No, not that well. I fall, and fall a lot. It’s not easy getting up.

I get all my feathers ruffled. I am scared of replying to my friends, scared of jumping lest I fall, scared of being eaten alive, but I know my parents are there. My dad will come soon to take me down, and I will eat the healthy diet my brother prepared. Then I will snuggle with Mom and fall asleep at peace, knowing that I survived another day on the rooftop and came one step closer to learning how to fly.

To my dear Piku, thank you for being my parrot and my little sister. I am sorry I can’t write your final scene because I want to believe you flew away.

 

Hack Attack

It was a normal Tuesday morning. I was rubbing the sleep off my eyes and had just turned on the palm-sized rectangular technological black box I am obsessed with, more commonly known as my mobile phone, when I saw my friend's message: "Reet, did you get hacked?" Not something I expected on a normal morning.

"Hacked" seemed like the kind of word that belonged to people in their grey years who believe they should trust everyone asking for their details, or to people who download games from pirated sites. I don't fall into either category. I have a presence on a few social media platforms, and somehow, within a week, every one of them was hacked.

Back to Tuesday morning. Someone had logged into my Instagram to share news about Elon Musk. Not that I have anything against Musk, but I like to promote my blog on my stories. I deleted it from everywhere, changed my password and whatnot. Gmail, meanwhile, was sending me a notification that someone was trying to log into my account. Hello — that someone was me. Where was your security when someone was actually trying to sign in? Sleeping, like me?

The next day, I had to protect my LinkedIn. Why anyone would want to hack into it is beyond my capacity. I use it for posting normal achievements, say, getting up at 6 am. "Today I woke at the hour the sun was set to rise, and rising with the first beam gave me a next level of insight." Stuff like that, you know.

Then I worked through the apps I hadn't opened in months, getting more annoyed with each one. But it stopped being an annoyance when my bank messaged to say I was trying to send someone 300 AUD. I don't owe anyone 300 AUD, and if I did, I would not be paying them at 11:32 pm. Before I could take that in, a second message arrived: a request to change the mobile number on my banking account.

Like any panicked young adult, I called my financial advisor slash my dad. He told me to calm down and ring the 24/7 helpline. Whoever it was couldn't push the payment through without the code sitting in my messages, which was the only comforting sentence anyone said to me that week.

After doing some preliminary precautions, I lay in bed and stared out my window. The curtain was open. Was it always open? Did I really leave my curtain open every night? What if someone is out there? What will a tiny lock do for someone who wants to break in? What was the helpline number again? After hyperventilating for a while, I finally calmed down into a nightmarish sleep.

The next day, I went on a quest to save my account and learned the benefits of multi-factor authentication for good. If there's an upside, it's that I have become extremely fast at changing passwords.

I worked out that it was my Gmail that had been attacked, because it sits at the root of everything else. The password from that account was the same one I used to create it ages ago. I really procrastinated to an extreme.

My suspicions were confirmed the next morning, when I received an email from the Blitz volunteering officer asking me to buy Apple Store gift vouchers for our volunteers. Everything about that email said "scam," but I only caught it because I was at the peak of my paranoia and because I knew she would never draft anything that serious, she is a chill person. I blocked the account. By then, I had already locked them out of nearly everything else.

They went for my identity and my money, and what saved the last of it was that I had become too paranoid to be polite to a stranger. The scary part isn't that it happened to me. It's that it was so ordinary, a normal Tuesday, a normal morning, crooks digitally posing as grandma while they are the evil wolf in disguise.

As we struggle to type in those long passwords and set up two-factor authentication, I wonder whether the thieves of tomorrow will be baffled by a plain physical lock and key. As they are apparently more comfortable working from home, they are trying to pull strings to gain passwords and account details.

 

The moral of the story is that even though nothing was harmed, it's never too early to start protecting your account, so go sit down and change your passwords. It’s a disgusting and annoying thing, yes. But not fun when you are forced to do it like me. 

Mid- year Review

 Seven months into 2026, a mid-year recap of pop culture, glamour, the internet, and the ongoing soap opera of social media. No cap.

January: 2026 became 2016

The year opened on the nostalgia train. Suddenly, we were back in the era of the aesthetic VEVO music video. Everyone was dusting off their 2016 photos and setting them to whatever audio was doing the rounds. Millennials in their thirties absolutely ran that trend — the Outfit of the Day (OOTD) posts were genuinely cool. I did not feel the same urge to post my 2016 pictures, as I was just a middle schooler back then and not in my cool pics era.

However, I get the appeal. 2016 looks easy from here. That's the trick of it: the past is infinitely replayable and the present just keeps coming at you. Hold onto that, because it doesn't leave for the rest of the year.

February: an Olympics with a soundtrack

The Winter Olympics arrived, and with them the year's first real crossover moment- PinkPantheress and Zara Larsson's "Stateside" took off on the back of gold medallist Alysa Liu's routine. The Winter Games don't usually pull this kind of attention, and thus Liu’s lesson felt bigger than sport: put the thing you actually enjoy into the thing you do, people can always tell. Watching the song travel as far as the medal is a very 2026 detail.

March: the fruit took over

By March, my feed was almost entirely Strawbraritta, Bananitta and the rest of the AI fruit cinematic universe. Nobody can explain why fruit became short-form media's chosen genre, and yet there we all were, watching part six, then part seven. It was slop. I watched every episode.

If January was nostalgia and February was joy, March was the internet showing us what the present actually looks like; infinite, ai-generated, seven parts deep. No wonder we wanted 2016 back.

April: Bieberchella

Justin Bieber at Coachella, and a hard swing back into the good stuff. He played his old YouTube videos before performing the songs live — which is to say he ran the exact 2016 nostalgia play the rest of us had been running since January. Turns out we weren't doing it alone. Bieber was in the group chat.

May: the Met Gala, gloriously unwearable

May was Met Gala month, and once again I was floored by garments that could never survive a lecture theatre or an office. I suppose that's the point of them. Still, imagine the crossover. Imagine turning up to a 9am dressed as an hourglass, the whole room watching the sand run out on however much lecture is left. Mesmerising. Impractical. Correct.

June: the World Cup humbled me

 My first World Cup as someone actually paying attention, I learned the legends' names just in time to watch them leave. Ronaldo, Mbappé, Haaland, Messi — all of them exiting the sport, leaving only Jamal still standing. I know he's a great player. I'd also been told these were the men who win things, and then they did not win the thing, which is a lot to process when you are still working out what a false nine is. I'm told this is normal and that I shouldn't take it personally. Give me four years and I'll come back fluent in stats.

July: love, actually

 The seventh month turned sentimental. Olivia Rodrigo's new album, Taylor Swift's wedding at Madison Square Garden — love back in the middle of the mainstream. What struck me was the contrast. Taylor's day stayed hers: no paparazzi, no leaks. Meanwhile the Russian couple at the Empire State Building went global on purpose, carrying a message worth repeating:

"When the power of love beats the love of power, the world knows peace."

This is where seven months of scrolling leaves me, weirdly hopeful. Maybe the brain rot isn't the end of us. Maybe we get to keep the magic of 2016 and the tech of 2026 in the same hand. It's only been six or seven months, after all. Plenty left to see before we sit down to draft the 2027 resolutions.

The Tour Guide

The black trench coat and worn leather boots had become my uniform. Every night they drew curious glances from tourists, but after five years of leading ghost tours through the old town, I hardly noticed anymore. Winter air clung to my skin, yet these streets felt strangely familiar, almost warm, as though they had long ago accepted me as one of their own.

The cold breeze brushed the back of my neck as I adjusted the old kerosene lantern hanging from my hand. The flame had long since been replaced with a cheap electric bulb, but my boss insisted it added "atmosphere." According to him, people didn't pay for history; they paid to be frightened.

One by one, they gathered beneath the abandoned courthouse.

Couples looking for a romantic thrill.

Families dragging bored teenagers who never look up from their phones.

Groups of friends dare each other to scream first.

They always arrived the same way, drifting toward the light of my lantern like moths.

Normally, I enjoyed my job. I loved watching people laugh one moment and jump out of their skin the next. But tonight was different. My head throbbed, my body felt heavy, and every breath carried an odd chill that seemed to come from inside me rather than the winter air.

Matt, my impossibly cheap boss, had called me in on my day off because Jeff had "called in sick." Matt would rather overwork me than hire another guide.

I should have stayed home.

---

"Welcome, everyone," I called, forcing a smile. "My name is Montemur, and tonight I'll guide you through the forgotten streets of this old town. Every building here hides a tragedy, every alley remembers a secret, and if we're lucky... perhaps we see something or someone from the past. If we do all, what they really want is someone to remember them."

A nervous laugh rippled through the crowd.

We wandered deeper into the old streets.

I told stories of murders, disappearances, and restless spirits. Every stop felt colder than the last. My headache worsened until every heartbeat echoed through my skull.

Then, halfway through another story, I looked up.

The group had stopped walking.

Everyone was staring at me.

Not smiling.

Not frightened.

Watching.

Only then did I notice something I should have seen from the beginning.

Their clothes were decades out of fashion.

One man's suit was stained with dried blood.

A woman wore a faded white mourning dress.

A little girl stood barefoot at the front of the group, a deep scar stretching across her pale face.

Her empty eyes locked onto mine.

"You got my story wrong," she whispered.

"My name isn't Lillian."

Her voice was calm.

"It's Liliane."

Another figure emerged from the crowd.

"You never told them how I died."

A woman in a torn white dress smiled.

"You left out my children."

Then another.

And another.

Faces surrounded me. Every ghost whose story I'd turned into entertainment stood before me.

I stumbled backwards.

"No..." I whispered.

"You wanted people to remember us."

The little girl tilted her head.

"So now..."

"You'll remember us forever."

The lantern slipped from my grasp.

The bulb shattered against the cobblestones.

Darkness swallowed the street.

The last thing I heard wasn't a scream.

It was laughter.

Dozens of quiet voices laughing all at once.

---

The next evening, Jeff cursed under his breath as he walked through the empty square.

Matt had spent all morning calling Montemur.

No answer.

By sunset, he'd given up.

"You're doing the tour tonight," he'd told Jeff. "He probably quit."

Jeff knew better.

Montemur wouldn't leave without saying something.

As he reached the old courthouse, something caught his eye.

An old kerosene lantern lay on the ground.

The same lantern Montemur carried every night.

Jeff frowned.

"That's weird..."

He picked it up.

The metal was ice cold.

A shiver crawled slowly up his spine.

Probably just the weather.

His headache started a few minutes later.

By the time the tourists began gathering beneath the courthouse, the pounding behind his eyes had become unbearable.

He looked toward the first stop of the tour.

For just a second...

He thought he saw a little girl standing in the shadows.

She smiled.

Then she was gone.

Jeff swallowed hard.

"Welcome, everyone," he said, forcing a smile.

"My name is Jeff..."

"...and tonight, I'll be your tour guide. Every building here hides a tragedy, every alley remembers a secret, and if we're lucky... perhaps we see something or someone from the past. If we do all, what they really want is someone to remember them."

 

Taylor Story

 

Have you ever heard a song for the first time and felt like it moved you? That's how I felt when I heard “Enchanted” by Taylor Swift for the first time in 2024.

To say I was enchanted would be an understatement. I became obsessed with every song and every lyric of hers. Although I don't think I consider myself a Swiftie because all I revered was her writing style, not the other Easter eggs in her music that Swifties are searching for. Still here I am writing out my journey fueled by her lyrics.

Before Taylor Swift, I listened to Bollywood music. I found her song "Enchanted" by mistake, and well, I was enchanted to meet her. Soon, I was enchanted by the entire Speak Now album, and I realised that bringing up Taylor's name sparked a range of reactions from people. I was studying back in India, and most of my friends' discographies consisted of Bollywood songs. And it's not like they disliked her; rather, it was just another singer rattling off in the language they didn't relate to.

A few people who knew her helped me find her other album, Fearless, which featured her evergreen track “Love Story”. Listening to that song, I finally understood why I related to her songwriting so much, even though I never listened to English music with this much zeal. Taylor Swift seemed so similar to all the novels I have ever read. She was narrating to me the stories I loved in beautiful verses.

It was as if I had finally found my book companion, the one who liked to sing out and talk about stories. I can picture and daydream with her lyrics all day long. After Fearless, I turned to YouTube and found out that her most-streamed and first pop album was “1989”. It's called 1989 because that's her birth year, and since it marked her transition from country to pop culture, she found it fitting to be called 1989.

And let's say it has one of the best music videos. They are hilarious and satirical in a way. “Blank Space”, “Shake It Off”, and “Are We Out of the Woods” all became my go-to numbers to play during workouts or whenever I needed an adrenaline rush.

As I was still a baby Taylor Swift fan wrapping my mind around all this newfound lyrical genius, I heard her latest album, “The Tortured Poets Department (TTPD)”, was dropping. My entire Instagram feed became filled with Swifties. They were all discussing and analysing her clothes and the current fashion she exhibited during her ongoing Eras Tour. That's when I realised this woman was a mastermind at mapping out Easter eggs. And her mega fans, the Swifties, were crazy enough to decipher her clues and find out what she is hinting at. I found this treasure hunt thing totally exciting. Being a great mystery lover, I was on top of every theory and thread.

When TTPD was finally released, I was confused.

It was so sad. Why is this woman sad? It felt as if I had missed a few integral chapters of my bestie's life, and she went through not one but heartbreaks during her tour. Listening to the entire TTPD discography (31 songs), I found out how pain can be used to build something beautiful. When I heard the song “Peter” I was so moved by how she expressed the nature of Peter Pan never growing up. I admired Peter Pan’s childish and boyish charm, but this song helped me realise the paain and anguish of Wendy who wanted him to grow up to be with her in the real world. 

I use TTPD whenever I am studying and feel alone. Yes, her lyrics help me relate to my relationship with my studies. But even TTPD has the song “So High School”, which Taylor used to hard-launch her relationship  to Travis Kelce. It made me really happy to find that the person who made me believe in fairytales got her fairytale moment.

During this time, I also realised that Taylor Swift had other things that I find similar. She is the oldest sibling, has a younger brother, and is close to her mom and dad. Her mom is practically her bestie, and she is obsessed with cats like me. Her youngest cat, Benjamin Button, was adopted by her on the set of her music video for the song “Me”.

After watching this song, I started grooving to her Lover album. It was a drastic change from TTPD's macabre aesthetic of black and white to Lover's bright pink one, but my summer vacation had started, and I was just in the mood for flowers and sunshine and making paper rings.

Lover made me realise how she ingeniously linked “London Boy”, a full-on love song, to “So Long, London” later in TTPD. Clearly, Taylor Swift remembers it all too well.

Continuing my happy streak, I switched to her debut album, Taylor Swift. Listening to her voice as a teenager was funny at first. But then I was vibing to her teenage shenanigans and sort of vibing with my new bangs, which may have been influenced by her, in a way.

After her Eras Tour ended in December of 2024, I realised that we even had our birthdays so close together, 11th and 13th December. I declared her my long-distance bestie now.

Watching the Eras Tour was so fun for me. I didn't feel bad about not getting tickets for the show. Being more of an introvert, I aimed to watch it from the comfort of my home, clutching my pillow and giggling as I saw all the eras unfold.

The Eras Tour helped me find the 10-minute version of “All Too Well.” The amount of time I invested in that song, for 10 minutes a day, was huge. Sometimes I used this song to manage my time and complete tasks using an allocated counter. All Too Well obviously made me obsessed with the entire “Red” album. Red was the album that represented change and growing up, which resonated a lot with my university life.

Finally, when it was time for me to move to Australia, I listened to “You’re on Your Own, Kid” and became a “Midnights” fan. Taylor’s album Midnights was about fears and uncertainties that one faces in life.

I then stumbled on Folklore in August with the song “August,” and this album was all about the storytelling of beautiful characters. I listened to Evermore to finish the set of all her albums by October 2025, when she finally released her 12th album, “The Life of a Showgirl”.

I remained in the loop with this album from the very beginning, following its creation and all trends. It was just a bundle of happiness. A shot of espresso. Taylor really did say, “It’s all right, and you were dancing through the lightning strikes.”

This year, Taylor won loads of awards at the iHeartRadio Awards, and with her upcoming wedding plans, she has remained in the news. She managed to treat her fans yet again by dropping a new single on 5th June, “I Knew it, I Knew You”. A  country song that would be featured in Toy Story 5.

Taylor Swift and Toy Story finally got their collab after having the same initials since the very beginning. We will finally get Taylor Story. This latest song sets the base for Taylor Swift’s debut album re-release. This song brings back her springy country music era. It makes you grab your cowboy boots and wear a big cowboy hat as you harness your inner country-ness.

Whether you are a Swiftie, a country music enthusiast, a lyric lover, or just someone looking for a new jam to vibe to, stream this song to feel the buzz in your feet.

For me, Taylor Swift’s music will always be special. Maybe because the first beat enchanted me, or because I stayed to listen to her 10-minute track each time. Her lyrics will always be my musical storybook adventure.

Labs Laid Out

When I realized so many of my friends were missing out (and yes, serious FOMO was involved), I decided to give you a proper insider tour, showing what engineering labs are actually like.

If you think labs are cool, that’s still underselling it. Labs are where theory finally stops being abstract and starts feeling real. They’re messy, exciting, sometimes intimidating and honestly, they’re the reason most of us signed up for engineering in the first place.

So, buckle up. Think of this as your all-access pass to the behind-the-scenes world of engineering labs.

 

1) Chemistry Lab

Walking into a chemistry lab feels like stepping into a mix between a hospital operating room and a cooking show.

There’s a sharp chemical smell in the air, everything is clean and organized, and before you touch anything, you suit up like a semi-astronaut in a lab coat, gloves, sometimes even goggles. It’s like preparing for surgery, except instead of saving lives, you’re mixing liquids and hoping they don’t explode.

The best way to understand chemistry is to think of it like cooking—but with stricter rules and higher stakes. Every “recipe” (experiment) has precise measurements, timing, and steps. Add something too early, too late, or in the wrong amount, and instead of a tasty dish, you might get nothing or an angry tutor with a grade deduction.

Titration experiments are like waiting for toast to turn the perfect shade of brown, but slower and more stressful. You’re watching for a tiny color change, drop by drop, wondering, “Was that it? Or did I mess it up?”

Handling glassware like test tubes feels oddly risky; they’re fragile, slippery, and somehow always break when you least expect them to. By the end of the semester, your lab coat tells a story of all your experiments, mostly through stains you’ll never fully get out.

 

2) Electrical Lab

If chemistry is cooking, electrical labs are like stepping into a controlled lightning storm.

The moment you walk in, you see large machines, wires everywhere, and equipment that looks powerful enough to run a small city. Suddenly, electricity isn’t just something that powers your phone; it’s something you respect.

Think of it like dealing with a wild animal: if you handle it correctly, it works beautifully; if you don’t, it reminds you instantly (and painfully) that you made a mistake.

Grounding is one of the first things you learn, and it’s basically like giving electricity a safe escape route. Without it, you might become that route, and you get electrocuted. So yes, connecting wires properly isn’t just about getting marks; it’s about not becoming part of the circuit.

There aren’t dramatic sparks flying everywhere like in movies. These are small shocks that will surely wake you better than any espresso.

 

3) Electronics Lab

Electronics is like the cooler cousin of electrical engineering. Instead of big machines, you’re working with tiny components like chips, resistors, and circuit boards. It’s like building a city, but on something the size of your palm.

If electrical labs feel like handling raw power, electronics labs feel like assembling Lego sets, but with a brain. You connect small parts, and then you program them to do something. Suddenly, that little board can blink lights, play sounds, or even control devices.

It’s where hardware meets software. Imagine building a robot body and then teaching it how to think; that’s electronics in a nutshell.

You start to realize that everything around you, from your phone to your laptop to your headphones, is basically just a very advanced version of what you’re building in the lab.

 

4) Mechanical Lab

Mechanical labs feel the closest to what people imagine when they think of “real engineering.”

It’s loud, hands-on, and full of heavy machinery. Walking in feels like entering a factory or workshop where things are constantly being built, shaped, or destroyed in a controlled environment.

If other labs are like simulations, this one feels like industry.

You work with drills, welding tools, molds, things that demand attention and respect. It’s like using power tools at maximum level. Every instruction matters because these machines don’t forgive careless mistakes.

One of the coolest parts? Pouring molten material into molds you designed yourself. It literally feels like handling lava and turning it into something solid and useful. It’s like playing Minecraft but in real life, and with heat-resistant gloves.

And then there’s 3D printing, which honestly feels like magic. You design something on a computer, press a button, and watch it slowly come to life layer by layer. It’s the closest thing to “printing objects” from sci-fi movies.

 

5) Physics Lab

Physics labs are where you prove that the formulas you’ve been memorizing actually work in the real world.

It’s less chaotic than other labs, but more precise. Think of it like being a detective, except instead of solving crimes, you’re verifying the laws of the universe.

You’ll work with lasers, lenses, electromagnets, and measuring devices. Light experiments feel especially cool; it’s like bending and controlling something you normally can’t even touch.

The tricky part? Accuracy. Every measurement matters. A tiny error can throw off your entire result, so you’re constantly double-checking, calculating uncertainties, and asking yourself, “Did I do this right?”

It’s not flashy, but it’s deeply satisfying when your results actually match theory.

 

6) Biomedical Lab

Biomedical labs are where engineering meets the human body, and things get real very quickly.

This isn’t just machines or circuits anymore; you’re working with biological samples. It feels a bit like stepping into a medical lab or even a crime scene investigation.

You wear gloves, handle specimens, and sometimes deal with procedures that feel straight out of a forensic show. It can be uncomfortable at first, especially if you’re not used to it, but it’s also fascinating.

Think of it as engineering with life itself. You’re not just building systems; you’re understanding and interacting with living ones.

 

7) Computer Lab

And finally, the computer lab. The one that feels most familiar yet offers the most creative freedom.

At first glance, it just looks like a room full of computers. But in reality, it’s like stepping into a digital playground.

If other labs are about building physical things, this one is about building worlds.

Coding feels like having superpowers. You type something, run it, and suddenly you’ve created an animation, a program, or even an entire system. It’s like telling a computer, “Do this,” and watching it obey.

Think of it like writing the rules of a universe. Whether it’s a simple program or a full website, everything exists because of code.

And the best part? You don’t need heavy machinery or protective gear, just your mind and a computer. It’s the most accessible lab, but also one of the most powerful.

 

In the end, I would say that each lab is a completely different universe. And once you step in, you’ll realize: this is where things actually come to life. Maybe the university should offer an excursion to all these labs for even non-tech students to get a taste of them for a day, because we all deserve to explore and act like a cool movie character once in a while.

Minor Inconveniences to Brew for Your Enemies

Have you ever had that urge to beat up somebody solely for their high level of ability to annoy you even when doing the most insignificant things? I personally get this feeling quite often. It’s like I am easily irritated by their lame approach to trigger a reaction. But since I am an advocate of world peace, I prefer to be the mature one in the situation and instead think of subtle, minor inconveniences that won’t cost me bad karma upon wishing. Here are some of my go-to’s you might find good enough to wish on an annoying fellow.

1) Hair Hassel: Imagine washing your hair intently, marinating it with oils, gels, all the beauty products you could ever think of, only to find a group of single strands spiking up like antennas merely the day after. For every strand smoothened out, your enemy remembers each emotional garbage they forced you through.

2) Falling Down Clumsily: Have you ever been minding your business when you suddenly bumped into a table, and your poor toe starts throbbing like a ballerina after practice? If you keep slamming into objects at random times of day, the dictionary will call you uncoordinated or clumsy. But I firmly believe that your enemies are using this spell so that you keep losing your aura in front of your associates. Use this against them.

3) Throat jam: One of my greatest fears is having an itchy throat in the morning that doesn’t get better even after drinking warm water. This spell is a severe way to seal your enemies’ mouths, because they might try hundreds of home remedies, but the sore throat will only leave when it wants to. It’s a silent reminder for them to think before they speak. 

4) Roast from Sun: Let the sun do the work for you. Better is the result if they wore shades all day, for they would end up looking like a red panda. Also, every piece of clothing they wear would bring discomfort, and each hiss from them would satisfy you. No roasts can amount to the burn produced by the sunburn.

5) Personal displace: What can be more annoying than commuting in an overcrowded school bus, like, you are paying for a peaceful trip, but you are squished in like sardines. Each jolt and stop makes you feel the muscles that you pulled accidentally. It’s a humbling experience to be pushed by a total stranger and not even get a sorry, because it probably got lost somewhere in the crowd. Being in this crowded space will help your enemies realise how they were hogging your space, making you shrink into a smaller zone. 

6) Endless Climb: Punishing your enemies with unplanned cardio is also a great humbling experience. They get the chance to ponder over life decisions as they huff up all the steps to a tutorial they are probably late for. Going up the stairs - I would like to see how tough they can be. Can’t call you out anymore, can they? Probably can’t think of a comeback as they huff and puff up all the steps.

7) Wrong Jam: Nothing spoils the day more than a playlist full of ads. You can hurt them silently and deeply, and, better still, if they are not on premium. Hit them with the longest ad breaks. These ads represent how they bring an unwanted pause to your day. For the Richie Rich with premium, have the shaman twist the spell so that they can’t find a single tune to jam to and must resort to endless skips.

8) Close Sesame: This spell is opposite to “Alohomora.” Have automatic doors all over the world ignore your enemies until they formally apologise to you. There’s also room for variation that includes: (1) always taking an embarrassing amount of time figuring out how to open a door, (2) constantly being in a situation of rushing towards the elevator door that smashes shut in their face. Now they must go through the endless climb curse.

9) Sleep Slide: Nothing worse than feeling drowsy the entire day, but as soon as your head touches the pillow, sleep slides out, and you are left staring at the ceiling in the dark. Make your enemies go over the entire day, reply in the moment, and cringe at their own actions. Let them panic at being so close to sleep but still so far. Let them fall into the trap of doomscroll and ruin their next day with a splitting headache.

10) Expense of Tastelessness: This spell is especially designed to ruin their taste buds. Make your enemies spend tons on food only to find out that they taste horrible. For that price, surely they must set some pride aside to savour a dish they dislike. Deal with it! This lesson subtly teaches them that the world does not revolve around them, and that they need to learn to adjust for the greater good.

All these inconveniences are not designed to make your enemies suffer, but to turn them into better humans. You are giving them a chance to be humbled. Why put up your fists when you can unlock your magical potential by pen - or a click to the nearest etsy witch? Stop waiting for your Hogwarts invite and get cooking with these easy manifestations. Do not let your imagination fall short as you pick up more minor inconveniences for the people who did you wrong.