“I declare, after all, there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! — When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
I’m Tia.
Born in the slow rhythm of Nagaland’s hills. Raised on stories, stillness, and tea that tastes like it’s been passed down through generations. I moved to Delhi chasing a degree, then a dream one that came blurry, unpaid, and lonely at times… but real.
I used to write in margins. In notebooks. On napkins. Thoughts I didn’t always understand, feelings I wasn’t ready to say aloud. It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t for anyone. It was mine.
Now, people call it writing.
I work with editors who once felt like distant names in fine print. I share coffee breaks with thinkers I used to quote in essays. But despite all the change, some things haven’t shifted:
I still write with trembling honesty.
I still believe storytelling should feel like sitting under a warm blanket, not behind a podium.
And start every piece like a journal, like this one.
TiaSays is a space I’ve carved just for that. For words that don’t need an assignment. For late-night realizations and questions that don’t need answers. For remembering who I was before the deadlines and double spaces.
So, if you’re here, welcome.
You’re reading my first official journal not as a student, not as a job seeker, but as a woman who finally got a seat at the table.
And I’ll keep writing like I used to with my heart wide open.
See you in the margins,
— Tia
