TARA_of_the_wax_words

Hello sissy. Ela unnav

@Pam6243 Arnav is a fictional character created by me, lol. 

@Pam6243 madhi guntur but nenu hyd lo untanu

@Pam6243 God knows how i abandoned it .. I have so many in mind and I am too lazy to get them down on screen yk .. I don have a laptop or so ..and listen , typing stories in phone ..I don like that lol

@Pam6243 ohhhh lol !! I like ur way of talking hehehe!!! All good wbuu??? How are uuhh?

Hellooo!! How are uu

Hey, ️️ 
          So, today is rakshabandhan...
          Happy rakhi to my lovely loyal readers... Girls, just drag money or gift from your brothers just with a 20 rupees thread..

 URGENT CANDLELIGHT NOTICE 
          Hey candles—
          
          Here’s the update: I might be on and off for the next 2–3 days because we’re going to Hyderabad AND the laptop I use might get taken back by its “original owner” (aka my brother. Yes. I know.)
          
          I’m not quitting.
          I’m not disappearing.
          I’m just possibly stuck with one mobile hotspot, my mom’s phone, and 12% battery anxiety.
          
          BUT!!
          If I manage to get my hands on a device, I will check in, read comments, and maybe sneak in a scene drop 
          
          Okay. Deep breath.
          The laptop is being taken back. It’s official.
          BUT my will? My chaos? My emotional damage files? — ALL still here.
          
          So here’s the plan:
           I’m writing out all major plot twists of at least 6 chapters TODAY.
           I’ll be using Wattpad’s “Schedule Publish” option to make sure my beloved candles aren’t left in darkness.
           That means even if I vanish to Hyderabad with just a dying charger and a thousand regrets—new chapters WILL come.
          
          Wish me luck.
          This is not a goodbye.
          It’s just me… in a hoodie… aggressively typing destiny before the device disappears.
          
          So don’t leave me or my MCs hanging.
          Comment. Vote. Manifest.
          We’re just pausing the storm—not ending it.
          
          While I’m gone:
          – Hydrate.
          – Miss my MCs like they’re your cousins.
          – Pray I come back with plot, not just mosquito bites.
          – And maybe drop any POV requests for upcoming chapters!
          (Yes, I read every comment. I’m watching. Respectfully. Sneakily. Through my mom's phone.)
          
          Catch y’all after the trip.
          Try not to fall in love with anyone else’s story. Or do. But come back crying.
          
          ✎ ~ The author who accidentally got emotionally attached to someone else’s laptop

For the ones who get it,
          
          Go ahead and cry.
          Sniffle if you need to.
          That’s not weakness.
          That’s your heart exhaling—after holding too much, for too long.

 To the reader who stayed long enough to meet me
          
          Hi Candles!! ️
          I don’t know what you were expecting when you clicked on my story "Notes from a Middle-Class Home",
          but before anything else—before the characters and the chaos and the cliffhangers—
          let me tell you who’s behind all of this.
          
          I was raised in a middle-class Indian home.
          That means: emotions are expensive , love is earned , and silence is golden—but heavy.
          My mother is two generations older than me. My brother is 11 years ahead.
          So while the world around me was moving forward ✨,
          I was being raised with rules, fears, and ideas that belonged to a time long before I ever existed ⏳.
          
          In my world,
          if you say you love someone they didn’t choose for you—
          you’re not just “wrong,” you’re disowned. Or worse (like, so damn worse) ⚠️.
          I was told, word for word:
          “I will kill you if you fall in love.”
          
          So when I write about broken girls who still believe in softness ,
          about love that survives in the cracks ,
          about quiet rebellions and loud hearts —
          I’m not being poetic.
          I’m being honest.
          
          I never had a safe space growing up ️.
          So I built one here.
          Word by word.
          Story by story.
          Truth by terrifying truth ✍️.
          
          And if you’ve made it this far—thank you.
          For reading.
          For staying.
          For maybe seeing a little bit of your own story inside mine.
          
          I’m not writing for attention.
          I’m writing because no one listened when I spoke .
          And now I want the right people to hear me—loud and clear .
          
          Not just a writer.
          Not just a teen.
          Just someone trying to exist and be heard. #notfiction #reallife #youngwriter #indianhousehold #truthbehindthestory
          
          P.S :
          I’m still young, but I’ve felt things many adults never talk about.
          And maybe writing here… is how I survive it .