Bhavna Buttan

Bhavna Buttan

Corporate junkie by day, amateur writer to compensate by night! Workaholic, mommaholic, opinionated, and not apologetic for any of the above.

📍 Dubai https://bhavnabuttan.com/

Appu Ghar

Inequality. Disguised in subtle everyday minutiae, like dresses vs shorts, long vs short hair, physical markers dictated the obvious not sameness. Cemented slowly with nuanced behavioral dictum, speak softer, sit differently, that’s because he’s a boy, and well, you are not. Two older brothers, and being the only

Immerse.

In that deep rooted fear that fuels the vile in your slur. Strip down and sit In it. Till it swallows you whole. Drowning your lungs out of breath, out of soul. Or, till your knees give way into a raging inferno's pit, burning off the decay. Submit.

Saying goodbye...

I open that icon on my phone. It’s been a while, I dig up the last one, Read, submit to the sadness, refile. Then I open the next. Read the explanations and excuses, Decipher the subtext, Again, remember the pain, the promises. Scroll down to one in happier times.

Be kind.

You are not me, and I am not you. Your journey yours, my path mine. Each trying to define, a bone, a sinew, Learning, adapting to each incline. Chiseling rocks, to fit holes laid bare, Building ourselves, stone by stone. A teeter here, a tremor there. Just trying to stand,

Does balance mean equal?

Introduction to an attempt at an equal, kind, empathetic world.

It’s when you’re done

It's when you're done chasing the sun, its blaze ignored your pursuit flawed, tired now, of the wasteful, the haste full, burned, succumb. it's when you're done. You turn away, licking your wounds, anger, denial, acceptance? Dismay. Then, morning comes around, another

‘The most important relationship is between the brand and the customer’

My fireside chat with Ravi Raman at the VMF 2021.

Earned

My stripes. When you see, success, It's consequent of a lifetime of duress. Of breaking glass ceilings, scathing self doubt, tears, lonely battles, then, of healing. They have to be earned, the stripes. When you see calm, It's borne of a tumultuous storm. It's

The thing, the thing about love

It never really goes away. You don’t know the why, the when or how, it came. A decade, two, or more, and it stays. Born but in a moment, to eternity claim, The thing, the thing about love is, It never really goes away. A childhood dream, the first

The love and pathos of bi- polarity

The highs. The exhilaration. The conquests. Heart thumping, adrenaline pumping, Electricity coursing through your veins. Nothing that can’t be vanquished, extreme, unrealistic, false bravado. The crescendo, then the big finish. You’ve got to love the highs! The lows. The pathos. The pain. A physical ache, the metaphorical weight