Two months ago, I packed my bags, full of ambition and excitement, and moved to Bengaluru after switching jobs. On paper, it looked like the perfect decision — a 40% hike, some shiny RSUs, and the prestige of joining an MNC. But somewhere between the blaring horns and endless cab rides, I lost a part of myself.
The transition from working remotely to this fast-paced city life has been anything but smooth. Back home, I had peace. My days were a rhythm of work and little life moments — cooking between meetings, chatting with my mom when I felt drained, meeting friends in the evenings. It felt natural, balanced, human.
Now, even though the actual work here is lighter, I end my days feeling more exhausted and less productive. The daily commute eats away hours, and being surrounded by noise, traffic, and constant motion leaves me feeling overwhelmed.
I miss the calm. I miss the comfort of home-cooked meals, the quick breaks that actually refreshed me, the feeling of being home. Right now, I’m trying to figure out food, routine, and life in a place that doesn’t quite feel mine yet.
I don’t know if this was a mistake or just growing pains, but I do know one thing — peace is underrated. And I miss mine.