My Girls Were the Masala Chai of My Life ☕✨

 

I never thought one day I would sit quietly and miss the chaos that once exhausted me.

Life is strange like that.

You spend years trying to escape struggle, confusion, unstable careers, emotional breakdowns, and uncertain days. And when life finally becomes stable, you suddenly start missing the very people who made those difficult years feel alive.

I am a girl from Rajasthan.

Like many girls, I came into adulthood carrying dreams bigger than my circumstances. My initial years were not easy. Studies, jobs, interviews, career pressure, emotional confusion, relationships, financial ups and downs — everything felt uncertain. Some days were beautiful. Some days were terrible. Some days felt completely empty. And some days simply passed without meaning.

At that time, I never realized I was living the most emotionally rich chapter of my life.

Because I had my girls.

Today, it has been almost two years of marriage. Life is calmer now. Things are more settled between me and my partner. Responsibilities are different. My routine is different. My priorities are different. Everything looks more stable from outside.

But somewhere deep inside, I miss the “masala” of life.

And when I think deeply about what exactly is missing, the answer is always the same:

My girls.

I miss being around women who understood my silence without explanation.

I miss random laughing sessions that started from nothing and ended in tears.

I miss getting ready together for absolutely no reason.

I miss crying together over careers, boys, confusion, bad interviews, bad bosses, and bad days.

I miss those late-night talks where we all acted strong for each other while secretly struggling ourselves.

I miss the PG life.

That small little world where we were all surviving adulthood together.

We used to go to clubs together, shop together, eat together, sit together after bad interview days, wait for job selections together, switch jobs together, and sometimes just stare at life together wondering what was even happening.

We were all carrying our own pain quietly.

And somehow, without planning it, we became each other’s comfort.

The funny thing is — I never intentionally searched for these friendships. I never thought, “These people will become so important to my life.” But life naturally brought us together.

And maybe the purest friendships are exactly like that.

Unplanned.

Unfiltered.

Effortless.

At that time, I was too busy surviving life to realize how beautiful those moments actually were.

Now I realize it.

Now I realize how blissful those struggling years were despite all the chaos.

Because struggle shared with the right people becomes memory instead of trauma.

And honestly, I think there is something extremely powerful about female friendships.

A woman feels different around her girls.

Softer.

Louder.

More emotional.

More expressive.

More alive.

I love being a woman when women are around me.

Not because life becomes easier…

But because life becomes warmer.

There is a different kind of healing in girl friendships. A different kind of safety. A different kind of understanding.

And maybe that is why after marriage, many women silently feel the absence of their old life.

Nobody talks enough about this transition.

A girl gets many beautiful things after marriage  love, companionship, a new family, stability, maturity  but somewhere she also quietly pays a price.

The price of distance.

Distance from old friendships.

Distance from old routines.

Distance from the carefree version of herself.

And society normalizes this so effortlessly that women themselves stop questioning it.

We just accept it.

We move forward.

We become “settled.”

But sometimes, late at night, our heart quietly travels back to old rooms, old conversations, old laughter, old people.

And suddenly we miss the version of ourselves that existed there.

Today when I look back, I feel immense gratitude.

Not dramatic gratitude.

Not the kind we say loudly.

But the silent kind that sits deep inside your chest.

The kind that suddenly appears while hearing an old song, looking at old pictures, or remembering old conversations.

So today, through this blog, I simply want to say thank you.

Thank you Neelam, Priyanka Di & kamini

Thank you for existing during the years when life felt uncertain.

Thank you for sharing your struggles with me and silently understanding mine.

Thank you for all the chai talks, emotional breakdowns, random outings, career discussions, tears, laughter, shopping trips, clubs, and survival days.

Thank you for being my people during the phase when none of us had life figured out.

Back then, we thought we were just passing time together.

But now I realize —

we were building memories that would emotionally feed us for years.

You girls were truly the masala chai of my life.

Strong.

Warm.

Comforting.

Messy.

Addictive.

Healing.

And today, even though life has changed and distances exist between us, a part of me will always belong to those struggling yet magical years we spent together.

Maybe adulthood changes relationships.

Maybe marriage changes routines.

Maybe life takes people into different directions.

But some friendships never really leave.

They quietly continue living inside your personality, your memories, your habits, your laughter, and your heart.

And honestly…

One of the best feelings in the world is still this:

Being a woman around the right women. ✨