The Witty Wordsmith

I wrote this on August 20th, 2025. A day after my mom's funeral. I feel like I bottled up my feelings—what I felt during my mom’s funeral.  Grief really does come in layers. I tried to notice so many things that day—how the forecast warned of a heavy thunderstorm, the scent of the air, how Bulbul—my mom’s cat—stayed two steps away from her bod…

I wrote this on August 20th, 2025. A day after my mom's funeral. I feel like I bottled up my feelings—what I felt during my mom’s funeral.  Grief really does come in layers. I tried to notice so …

Let me just say it upfront: This cake wasn’t born from a moment of inspiration. It was born from deep annoyance and a very specific kind of Indonesian culinary grudge—the kind that brews quietly whi…

This isn’t the first piece I’ve written about grief and maybe there is a lot more coming.. They say your life flashes before your eyes right before you die. Some claim it takes seven minutes. But I …

I didn’t realize grief could arrive in layers,  one still forming while the next begins to settle. This year, I find myself holding three kinds of goodbye: the kind that’s slow and visible, the kind …

I’ve heard a lot of things about women in the workplace. Too emotional. Too competitive. Too complicated. Too much. But somehow, in the corner of our little sales cubicle—where the budget update…

— on control, love, and letting things stay “done” I used to think I was just particular. Neat. Efficient. High-standard. But really, I was raised on survival, not softness. And when you’re raise…

I’ve been fangirling over SZA in the last few weeks. Her songs feel like sitting in your feelings without drowning in them. Like crying in the shower but with good lighting. Very much like that. Mea…

I probably started cooking before I even knew how to spell it. One of my earliest kitchen memories isn’t sweet or cinematic—it’s chaotic. I must’ve been four or five, playing near my mom’s stove afte…