Aarav didn’t answer. He was scrolling. His feed was a masterpiece of other people’s lives. A friend trekking in Himachal. A colleague’s wedding. A junior from college holding a trophy. Everyone had a perfect, glossy, filtered life. Everyone except him.
He poured a little chai into the lid of a discarded container. The dog lapped it up. life jothe ondu selfie
He was.
He pulled out his phone and showed her the selfie. She looked at the dog, at the rain, at his exhausted face. Then she looked at his eyes. Aarav didn’t answer
The next morning, he didn’t go to the office. He called his manager, took a sick day—a real one. He took the dog (he named him Bug , because, well, life is full of them) to the vet. He then took a bus to Mysore, the dog curled up in his lap. A friend trekking in Himachal
He laughed. A real laugh. “I know, Amma. But for the first time, I’m not trying to look good.”
“Life is a selfie,” he muttered bitterly. “Everyone just knows how to pose but me.”