It’s that time of the year again—welcome to the 11th edition of the I’m Weird Because post. Honestly, when I wrote the first one, I never imagined it would turn into an annual tradition. And yet, here we are. Over the years, these posts have become my odd little ritual—a way to see how much (or how little) I’ve changed. They’ve basically turned into a public journal of quirks I’ve collected like stray thoughts over time.

Last year, I hit the 10-year mark—an entire decade of documented weirdness. This year? Let’s just say here’s to the start of another one. If I survive. And if I don’t… well, this line is going to be tragically ironic.

So, shall we begin?

I’m Weird Because I feel unsettled if I reach work after 8 a.m. On the rare days I arrive at 9, I spend the first hour convinced something’s off. The idea of walking into the office post-11? Blasphemy. Pure and simple.

I’m Weird Because even though I wouldn’t call myself a tea connoisseur, I absolutely need my morning chai, with a few biscuits to dunk in it. It’s not about the taste, it’s about setting the day’s rhythm right.

I’m Weird Because I find LinkedIn to be a clumsy cosplay of Facebook. And LinkedIn influencers? Pretentious never-dwellers of the internet. Who exactly are they trying to impress?

I’m Weird Because I can spot sycophants from a mile away. If there were a job profile dedicated to sniffing out toadies, I’d be a frontrunner. Possibly even overqualified.

I’m Weird Because I genuinely enjoy solitude. I don’t need constant company to feel entertained or fulfilled. That’s not to say I don’t appreciate good conversation, but I’m perfectly content in my quiet bubble. No crowd, no FOMO.

I’m Weird Because I don’t automatically give children the benefit of the doubt just because they’re children. I’ve encountered some truly vile ones in my time, and if they’re any indication, toxic personalities don’t magically form after a certain age. Some people just start early.

I’m Weird Because I always carry a sweater or a shawl in my bag, rain or shine, summer or winter. I live in constant fear of the sudden chill. Call it preparedness or paranoia, but I refuse to be cold without backup.

I’m Weird Because no matter how determined I am to travel light, my handbag ends up looking like it could double as emergency luggage. I try. I really do. But somehow, minimalism always loses the battle.

I’m Weird Because I’m perpetually addicted to pain relief balms or oils—not for the pain, but for the oddly comforting feeling they bring. A dab here, a whiff there, and suddenly the world feels slightly more manageable. At least it’s not anything illegal.

I’m Weird Because I need to unpack and reorganise immediately. After a recent dance performance, while still at the venue—makeup half off, hair halfway undone—I was already putting clips and pins back into their designated boxes. Could I have waited? Absolutely. Did I? Of course not. Because I’m weird like that.

I’m Weird Because I often feel like I wasted too many years not going back to dance class. It’s a regret I carry quietly—because somewhere inside, I feel there’s so much left to learn, and so little time to catch up. In fact, I fear I will never be able to catch up now.

I’m Weird Because I struggle to smile while dancing. I am working on it, but sometimes the forced smile ends up looking like there’s an invisible gun pointed at my head. Expressive grace? Still downloading.

I’m Weird Because I don’t believe in “forgive and forget.” M, on the other hand, is the exact opposite—her heart still holds more kindness than I can fathom. But life’s too short to waste on second chances. Some things are unforgivable, and some people simply don’t deserve your respect or your friendship. I’m trying to teach M that.

I’m Weird Because I find it incredibly difficult to ask for help. When my book was published in 2021, it took everything in me to ask a blogger friend for a Goodreads review—and even then, only after she had read it on her own. My fear? If I ask and get denied, I won’t be able to take it too well. So I’d rather just do things myself. Safer that way.

I’m Weird Because I have a habit of constant self-deprecation. And while a little humility never hurt anyone, I sometimes catch myself wondering—especially when I see people waltzing in with misplaced confidence and not a shred of self-awareness—why don’t I back myself more?

I’m Weird Because I find casual conversations difficult. I’m not great at small talk, which often makes me seem aloof or standoffish. But the truth is—I’m usually just standing there wondering what on earth we could talk about. That said, I am a very good listener. If you start the conversation, I’ll be all ears.

I’m Weird Because I find it excruciating when people repeat the same point in meetings or stretch one single point. Or worse—take a thousand words to express a thought that could’ve been wrapped up in one clean sentence. Brevity is not just the soul of wit, it’s also the soul of my sanity.

I’m Weird Because sometimes, mid-meeting, I fantasise about breaking into a toda or an amad. Imagine the confusion if I stopped a Gen X manager mid-ramble about innovation and AI with a surprise burst of Kathak. Or just screamed “lalalala” and exited the call. One day. Maybe.

I’m Weird Because I now feel incapable of doing household chores without listening to an audiobook. Sweeping without a story? Folding laundry without a narrator? Unimaginable.

I’m Weird Because I still hate lending my books. They’re far too precious. And truth be told, when it comes to books—or anything else, really I don’t like being a lender or a borrower.

I’m Weird Because you probably wouldn’t guess it by looking at me, but I genuinely enjoy rock music. Sure, I forget the names of the songs and the bands half the time, but I still love the sound. Who would’ve thought? I’m basically a walking contradiction.

I’m Weird Because I believe adding cheese to every dish to make it ‘cool’ should be a jailable offence. Also, what is going on with fried momos? Some crimes don’t need reinvention.

I’m Weird Because I find lattes and cappuccinos completely overrated. Give me a strong cup of good old filter coffee any day. Froth doesn’t equal flavour.

I’m Weird Because my favourite airport meal is pongal and filter coffee. Fancy food stalls be damned—nothing else comes close to that comfort.

I’m Weird Because my left eyebrow is perpetually raised. It might look like I’m judging you, but really, it’s just my resting face. Though… occasionally, yes, it is my judging face.

I’m Weird Because I cried when I couldn’t resume dance class because of my back issue. I kept pestering my orthopaedician with the same question on repeat—Will I ever be able to dance again? And don’t even get me started on the number of therapy-style sessions I had with ChatGPT about it. 

So that’s the 11th edition of I’m Weird Because. A mix of quirks, confessions, contradictions – and a quiet celebration of the wonderfully strange ways we’re wired. Some things have changed over the years, but clearly, the weirdness remains intact. Maybe that’s the one tradition I’ll never grow out of—and honestly, I’m okay with that.

Until next time,

Ciao!