i don’t know when i stopped doing that.

i tried to get back to it so many times. downloaded the apps. built the notion databases. bought the pretty journals. none of it worked. the dedication just wasn’t there anymore.

and somewhere in trying to be productive about reading,
i killed the joy of it

“a book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.”
— franz kafka

this quote has been living in my head for months.

writing is art.
it’s someone’s entire life distilled into a sequence so carefully crafted that it shifts how you see things. shifts something inside you.
stringing words together in a way that holds the power to change you.

reading isn’t just information consumption.
we read to expand ourselves.
to feel something.
to grow.
to challenge ourselves.
even reading for joy is just reading to find expression of your own feelings in someone else’s words.
we read to live a thousand lives in our one.
the intellectual hunger is nothing but hunger to live, to expand, to know, to be.

and yes, kafka’s quote makes perfect sense. but only if the axe exists in the first place. and that happens only if you’ve remembered it for long enough. transformations don’t come about in a day. realisations happen in mere moments, and those moments are worth preserving.
without the context, everything is forgotten.

when you read something that touches you,
knocks you over the head,
makes you feel something.
cry even.
but within 3 days, the entire essence is gone.
all that remains are empty words on a screen held dear by a version of you in the past.

esp in today’s world, where content is something we will never run out of. it’s not just books anymore. a random tweet, a youtube video, a newsletter you almost didn’t open.
it’s even more important to hold on to the stuff that actually matters.
what’s the point, if you can’t retain it long enough to live it?

but why does it matter?

ask yourself:
why did that line mean so much to you in that moment?
why did you feel the need to write it down?
why did it break you?

because the version of you then felt it.

go back to what you were saving five years ago.
you’ll find who you were then.
the things that stopped you, moved you, broke something open in you.
because what we read and write isn’t just notes.
it’s a record of you.
and losing that record means losing yourself.

psychologists call this “narrative identity” — the story you tell yourself about who you are and how you got here. without it, the path forward has no anchor.

so

i tried everything

journals. highlighting. bookmarks. post-its. a physical diary. apps. nothing worked.
and that bothered me.

turns out there’s a reason for this.
our minds don’t remember in isolation. they remember through context:
where you were,
what you were feeling,
the image your brain conjured while reading or writing.
and emotion is the strongest indicator of how strongly a memory gets etched. the more cues, the better.
strip that away and your mind quietly files it as unimportant. therefore forgotten.

science calls this “contextual memory encoding”
mad drunk poets and heartbroken romantics call it nostalgia

and yet every app does the opposite. they help you save the words.
but the actual JTBD isn’t hoarding information.
it’s retaining resonance. the moment, in all its complete glory. with the context. skipping the emotional context means skipping the entire point.
so of course it never works!

and that is also why a well-kept journal is way more effective. feels way more sacred. your handwriting, your creation. every visual cue, the touch of the book, the smell, the papery feel, the foxed pages, images stuck in that mean something.

writers and thinkers used to keep something called a commonplace book for this.

but let’s face it. no one wants to copy entire paragraphs by hand in a digital age. no one has the patience. and the hassle of maintaining an index of all the contents of each book. come on, we can do better.

so here i am.

unemployed, slightly unhinged, building an app.

commonplace

for the paperback with loads of wobbly pencil underlines and scribbled margins.
the paragraphs saved on kindle.
the quotes in your pinterest boards with 1035679 pins.
the videos forgotten in your watch later.
or the random tweets that got lost in your screenshots gallery.

and when you save something, the moment comes with it. a photo. a note to your future self. the weather outside, the time, where you were.
so that five years from now, you don’t just find the words. you find yourself back in that moment. the version of you that needed that sentence.
and sometimes that sentence finds you back, years later, exactly when you need it again. with the complete context.
so that you don’t just remember. you transform.

not for productivity. for love.

i’m building this for the people who still believe words are sacred. the ones who pause in the middle of a paragraph and stare at the wall because a sentence just dismantled their entire worldview.
the hoarders who have a notes app full of messy, contextless quotes and half-finished journal entries because they were terrified of forgetting how a specific thought made them feel.

the ones who read and write to heal.

to grow.
to understand themselves a little better.

if you’re the kind of person who gets fiercely protective over a beautifully written newsletter, or who feels a physical ache when you forget a book that once meant the world to you, this is for you.

because i know that frustration. i know what it feels like to have an intellectual journey you can’t quite trace.

and i’m building commonplace to give that journey a home.

and yes, there is a real challenge here

the flow state of reading is sacred. that feeling of being so lost in something that you forget to check your phone, forget the time, forget you exist outside of the page. when the world goes quiet and all that’s left is the story, the idea, the sentence that just cracked something open in you. it’s rare. and it’s worth protecting.

the last thing i want is an app that interrupts that.

so the challenge is real: how do you support this experience without breaking it?

user behaviour is hard to change. i know.

but here’s what i keep coming back to: we’re in a world where everything is getting more generalised and more hallucinated. ai is everywhere, producing content at scale, and most of it is generic. fine. technically correct. but not original. not originally human. (read these to know more: 1, 2)

knowledge is irreplaceable.
no matter how capable ai becomes, growing yourself will require sincere effort to always be studying, learning, writing, healing, and most importantly, experiencing.
it doesn’t happen overnight. working on yourself is still your responsibility.
else all authenticity is lost.

your thoughts and highlights are yours.
the things that actually stopped you mid-scroll, mid-chapter, mid-video. your intellectual journey. your personal catalogue. original thoughts from real people, real authors, real moments. a library unique to you.
ai can’t replicate that.
knowledge is what makes you, you. because what you find inspiring enough to save or write is your personality.
retaining that feels more important now, not less.

so yes, it’s an interesting problem. and it’s a premise i’m willing to bet on.

P.S. any suggestions/requests are welcome. commonplace will be a completely free app, with local storage options available. join the waitlist here.

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dearest gentle readers,

hii, i’m Aacashi. just graduated from iit bombay. building my first app, figuring it out in public.

i’m building commonplace. a home for your reading memories. your intellectual journey.

i’m building it for the same reason i write. because i got lost for a while, and this is my way of coming back to myself.
and substack is the first place i felt safe enough to speak my mind. where i slowly started coming back to myself. thank you for being here for that.

this one is for us.

so join the waitlist if this sounds like something you’d want to check out.

and if you’ve ever felt this exact frustration, please come say hi.
i’m building this for you and i need to know you exist.
follow along for the journey, because your opinion matters.

any suggestions, doubts, constructive criticism, ideas, rants, absolutely any thoughts are welcome ♡

with love, light & reverence,
from the bean bag i’m slowly finding my way back to,
a sky, wide open

Anyway, let’s get started.

Story Time!

The farthest Susan could remember about the women in her ancestry was 18^th century Madeleine Fournier, her great-great-maternal grandmother. She showed the journalist the only two pictures of her that had survived, all through those years.

In one, Madeleine had pockets tied around her waist. In the other—taken later—she wore a smooth Empire-line dress, with a small reticule awkwardly clutched in her hand.

Madeleine was a Parisian dressmaker’s wife, widowed in her thirties. The pockets had disappeared because fashion decided they ruined the silhouette. She adjusted.

Then came her daughter, Charlotte Whitefield, married at nineteen to a London-based civil clerk in the Admiralty. She grew up believing pockets were inelegant. She owned an assorted collection of handbags -- elegant, but reassuringly small, as if careful not to take up space, more than required.

Charlotte’s daughter, Eleanor Bennett, was the rebellious suffragette. A late 19^th century school teacher who dressed for convenience. Chose skirts that could hold the deepest hidden sewn-in pockets. These pockets were usually stuffed with pamphlets for protest. Since handbags could be checked, confiscated so they were a liability.

She never thought she would marry, but she fell in love with a radical journalist who was reporting on a protest she was in. They had one daughter: Vivienne.

“She was a peace-loving homemaker, a war bride with quiet strength,” Susan said, showing her picture.
“Mum often told me how Granny’s protesting destabilized her childhood. Even though she admired her, all she wanted was to settle down, to not argue, and just agree for once. Granny never approved of her fashion choices.”

The journalist noticed Vivienne standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, wearing a lean cinched-waist, full-skirt silhouette. The handbag she carried was an elegant Louis Vuitton Susan had gifted her.

Then there was Susan Clarke herself.
A working mother of two. A permanently tired paralegal who had fake pocket jeans, so she carried a large handbag filled with everything she could ever need. It was a purely logistical choice.

She adjusted the weight on her shoulder. She knew complaining and protesting wouldn’t lead her anywhere.

Next, the journalist spoke to Freya Reed (née Clarke).

He got an uncomplicated vibe from her, mostly because the capitalists had her confused to the point she’d stopped caring. Fashion, to her, was how she expressed herself. Nothing more than a style statement. She genuinely believed patriarchy was an issue her mother’s generation had already solved.

Women in the workplace were a normal sight and the society was (somewhat) inclusive. Problems in her life (like when her boss promoted her male colleague over her) felt personal, not systemic.

And finally, there was Iris Reed.

A 21^st century Parisian social media manager at a fashion magazine. She grew up online, watching videos comparing men’s pockets to women’s. Eventually became a radical feminist TikTok influencer making viral content under #WeWantPockets

“She owns a crossbody bag she insists is for convenience, not surrender.
Celebrates dresses with pockets like minor revolutions,” the journalist writes.

This is fiction, yes.
But the references are very real.

So are the expectations of the society to make women AND their clothing bend to the whim of patriarchal agendas.

Capitalism, of course, always benefits.

Where are we now?

Its 2025. Women’s clothing still lacks spacious pockets. A woman without a handbag is still considered incomplete.

History gave women pockets when they were needed as workers, during world wars, and took them away as soon as they weren’t. Even the most powerful woman in the colonialized world, Queen Elizabeth II, was rarely seen without a handbag. She used it as a symbolic silent communication tool. But it quietly showed how even power didn’t translate to hands-free dressing in women’s fashion.

This isn’t about making handbags evil.

But look at the nature of fashion for women. Every single accessory – pointed heels, body-hugging dresses, tiny purses - consistently makes them more ornamental (a show piece, if you will) and less mobile.

It screams discomfort → helplessness → dependency !!

And all this while what did men use? Big-pocketed comfort clothing, sturdy shoes and a POCKET-SIZED wallet to keep ALL their belongings

while women were stuck carrying a big, inconvenient handbag with makeup, keys, snacks, tissues, and everyone else’s responsibilities.

This made me furious.

But then I look around.

Women today are finally becoming sure of themselves. Handbag or no handbag; they listen to themselves. Sneakers with miniskirts, big totes that take up space are a sensation.

And this, more than anything, stayed with me. Feminism has taken on a new, more sustainable shape.

Gen Z women today post photos of their boyfriends: adorable (pookie🎀) men holding their purses, a scrunchie around their wrist. And NO, they don’t consider themselves less masculine.

(hahaha patriarchy—the joke’s on you👀)

Of course their parents would disagree but that’s just how generational upbringings work.

And for the first time, I feel hopeful enough to say this debate might actually be nearing its end. I love that I might be able to teach my kids the same notions of gender equality that I believe in, instead of disapproving of their fashion choices or how they choose to express themselves.

There’s still a lot of work to do—but we’re getting stronger as a community, more aware and supportive, healing together🩷

What are organizations, really?
Just a bunch of humans trying to build something together, right?

And for anything to work well—like gears in a machine—it all comes down to alignment.
Thoughts, habits, values, rhythms.

Humans are complicated, sure.
But when habits and mindsets match, efficiency goes up fast.

And that’s the part we forget when we obsess over “dream companies”,

The Dream Company That Lives in Your Head

People fantasize about getting into their dream company. Their dream college. Their perfect pinteresty lifestyle.

And when someone else gets what we wanted, we sulk.

I was one of those.
Well—who am I lying to? I still have those tendencies.
My brain’s default setting is to notice what I don’t have first, and I battle it every single day.

And when life has fucked you up a little more than others, these thoughts get even louder.

But here is the blunt truth:

Maybe the problem isn’t always the universe or kismat (fate)… maybe it’s YOU.
(Sorry, someone had to say it.)

Talking about getting into your “dream company” isn’t enough.
It’s more important to ask: where did the dream even come from?

Ask:

• Do I actually want this? (Note I said “Do I”, not “Does my nemesis”)
• Why?
• And what’s the “why” of the people who are already thriving there?
(Thriving, not surviving. People WILL often lie about this. Don’t trust what they say; watch how they behave.)

What do they believe in?
What pace do they move at?
What habits feel natural to them?

Chances are, you’ll see patterns.

Maybe You’ve Been Asking the Wrong Question

In a broader sense, instead of asking:

• Will they take me?
• Can I crack the interview?
• How do I show them I’m a good fit?
(“Show them” can ruin a lot in your life if you’re careless with it.)

Maybe ask:

Am I — or the person I’m becoming — the kind of fit they’re actually looking for?
Do I even want to be that person?

If you can, great.
But if not—

Maybe… You started for the wrong reasons

Sometimes the desire isn’t pure.
Sometimes it’s:

• jealousy,
• lifestyle envy,
• chasing prestige,
• proving something to someone who doesn’t matter anymore,
• silencing that inner critic that keeps putting you down, etc.

Here’s the part most people won’t admit:

If the lifestyle genuinely excites you—go for it. Chase it hard.

But many people burn themselves out chasing lifestyles they don’t even want…
or only want it because someone else has it.

If that’s you, then probably the problem isn’t the job.
It’s the fantasy you attached to it.

And in that case?

Let it go.

Because honestly—some fantasies are better left as fantasies.
You know… like the kind you keep under the covers (pun intended)😉

I know not everyone has the luxury to choose their life freely.
I genuinely empathize with that.
But even then, there’s always some choice—however small—that moves you closer to what your being aches for.

If You’re Infuriated Right Now… Good.

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It means a nerve was touched.
A truth you’ve been avoiding just poked you in the ribs.

And honestly? That’s how you know you’re headed in the right direction.

We keep saying our lives are so difficult—but aren’t we the ones making them so?
By letting things into our lives that don’t resonate with us, the silent anxiety builds and builds until it bursts.

Here’s the Uncomfortable Truth

We are biased creatures.

We see only what our eyes👀 allow,
We think only based on the fodder our brains🧠 have collected,
And we can’t even hear our real voice without a microphone🎙️

So why do we desperately try to become all-rounders?
Why do we compare ourselves to “Sharma ji ka beta/beti”
(For the non-Indians: “Sharma ji ka beta/beti” = the legendary neighbour’s kid who is apparently good at everything you’re not and more lol)

Why do we force ourselves into molds someone else picked for us?

Maybe the real question isn’t:

“How do I become really successful?”

but:

“How do I do more of what makes me happy?
How do I turn that into work I actually enjoy—maybe even a business?”

The Universe Likes People Who Are Happy Doing What They Do

When you’re genuinely happy, things fall into place faster than you expect.
Your life blossoms—because you stop dragging yourself against your own grain.

Maybe life is just about finding more places where you fit, like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle.

Where even a corporate job can become your happy place.

And if you can’t find your dream company or a place where you fit?

Make one yourself.

A startup.
A new environment.
A home that feels like yours.

And contrary to popular belief,
a loving home can start with only you. At the risk of being cringey,
being alone is not the same as being lonely.

As long as you listen to that inner voice—
It won’t always say what you want to hear,
but it will lead you somewhere far better than what your fantasy promised you.

Just wrote this as a silver lining — to debunk the hustle culture and our constant need to suffer in order to feel valid.

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Much love🩷, from mine to yours,
Aacashi

I love my sarees and jhumkas, all the traditions and festivals, and especially Indian shaadis with all the taam-jhams (shenanigans). I love how the culture of this country sees this life as a series of celebrations.

But when I was researching how to start my own blog on ChatGPT, it casually mentioned that I should hide my Indian identity to attract a global audience.

Hide it.

At first read, I really was okay with it. I was desperate. And honestly, as Indians, we’re kind of pros at being low-key ashamed of ourselves—always trying to mimic others, fit in, and “survive.”
Let’s call it Assimilation Survival Mode (aka the colonial hangover we pretend we don’t have).

This Isn’t Just About Being Indian

But here’s the bigger realization: this isn’t just about nationality. The thing that gets minimized could be anything—your accent, your background, your class, your privilege, your gender, even something you have an unfair advantage in.

During my time at IIT Bombay (yes, I’m a nerd but in a good way 😉), I took a class on AI policy. My professor said something that stuck with me:

“We are tuned to treat technology as the oracle on all matters. What it says, our brain trusts by default. But you have to remember—it’s essentially a stochastic parrot🦜 throwing words at you.”

📎 You can read the related research paper here

It’s like how we read books and, by default, our mind might consider everything true just because it is in print.
This blind trust in machine output actually has a fancy name—it’s called automation bias.

Once you see this, you start questioning whose voices shaped what AI chatbots are outputting.

The Myth of ‘Clean’ Data

We assume the data that large language models are trained on is “mistake-free.”

But where is this data coming from?

Humans.

And humans come with centuries of everything—colonialism, casteism, racism, patriarchy, wars, oppression, privilege, shame, power.

So when my professor summed it up with:

“Any data has an inherent historic bias.”

Everything clicked.

When Bias Quietly Came Back to Me

And that’s exactly what happened. The LLM simply reflected the historic bias against my identity back at me. What made it worse was the tone—polite, rational, confident. The kind of tone humans almost always trust.

There are ways to reduce bias in these systems (I’ve linked a few research papers below1). But they’re expensive, slow, and resource-heavy.

And slow and inconvenient yet morally uplifting stuff?
Yeah… that doesn’t exactly fit the description of capitalism’s bio.

So instead of fixing the problem at the root, we just… ship faster.

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A Reality Check for All of Us Using AI

To sum it up:
We’ve got to look out for ourselves here

Let’s not switch off our brains just because ChatGPT or Gemini said something in impeccable English with on-point grammar. There are already enough medical studies showing how dependency on AI is affecting our cognitive abilities.

I’m fully in support of AI revolutionizing everything under the sun—but we have to be careful what we let it decide for us.

LLMs are trained to talk to you as if you’re having a conversation with a human, just with a slightly better vocabulary.

But they are still just a technology.

Use them.
Don’t let them use you.

A Small Mental Rewire That Helps

A practical way to rewire your brain to register this is to stop personifying AI.

Don’t say:
“I asked ChatGPT and it said…”

Say:
“I put it into ChatGPT and the output was…”

Or at least make a mental note of what “asked” and “said” really mean in this context every time you use them.

See the difference?

P.S. You may notice me using personifications like “ChatGPT said” — that’s just for readability. Please interpret it as jargon used for an algo.

So Here’s What I’m Choosing

I’m choosing to keep my Indianness,
I’m choosing to keep my identity visible,
I’m choosing not to neutralize myself for reach.

Take what helps.
Question what doesn’t.
Trust yourself more.

Authenticity is your biggest superpower in this world of generic content and advice. It is your biggest chance to actually stand out.

Harness that power.
And above all—be loudly, unapologetically you. 💛