BhavyaMD @DoctorBKay

Anesthesiologist/ Personal account New Delhi, India Joined March 2019

Tweets

857
Followers

323
Following

2K
Likes

67K

Ramin Nasibov @RaminNasibov

5 days ago

dandelion fountain

198 9K 69K 5.7M 5K

View Details

BhavyaMD @DoctorBKay

2 weeks ago

@googlemaps has got all of us going from “I took the wrong way” to “I took the long way”

0 0 0 24 0

View Details

BhavyaMD @DoctorBKay

a month ago

@karunpal Hard relate

0 0 1 16 0

View Details

I don't hate socializing. I just love being home. Where it's quiet. Safe. Soft. No small talk. No noise. No pretending to be someone I'm not. Just me. Reading. Thinking. Listening to music. Staring at the wall. Watching old movies. Being bored. And feeling life deeply. Some people call it boring. To me, it's where I finally hear myself again.

175 1K 7K 201K 935

View Details

BhavyaMD @DoctorBKay

2 months ago

@onlyskypace 73

0 0 0 27 0

View Details

BhavyaMD @DoctorBKay

2 months ago

@linadreaamy 120

0 0 0 3 0

View Details

BhavyaMD @DoctorBKay

2 months ago

@hicasamadim 9

0 0 0 4 0

View Details

BhavyaMD @DoctorBKay

2 months ago

@NoContextBrits Bloody

0 0 0 5 0

View Details

BhavyaMD @DoctorBKay

4 months ago

Check out Dr Shreya’s podcast on oral Maxillofacial surgery youtu.be/zSLciLo12TE

0 0 0 39 0

View Details

BhavyaMD @DoctorBKay

4 months ago

How did you know you have ADHD? #ADHD

0 0 2 34 0

View Details

dxp @drivexpull

7 months ago

🥵

7 222 5K 29K 121

View Details

diplo @diplo

8 months ago

I was 20 when I first came to India with nothing but a restless mind and an old Enfield I bought from a friend in Delhi who taught me to ride in one dusty afternoon. He took my money, flew back to Florida, and left me with one rule: don’t hit a cow, and only ride between 2–6 a.m. if you want to survive the heat and smog. Somehow, that became a philosophy for everything that followed. I crossed the country like a kid inside a dream — Calcutta to Delhi to Rishikesh — sleeping on the bike when I had to, chasing chai stalls to stay awake, tossing the bike on trains when I could afford it. I swam in the Ganges, did yoga with elders who moved like water, bought vinyl in back-alley shops, fell in love the way only your twenties let you, and wrote long confusing emails to my mom from glowing village internet cafés. In Gujarat I stopped long enough to help with earthquake relief, eat thalis in strangers’ homes, and learn “Kem Cho” and “Majama.” India didn’t just teach me independence — it cracked me open creatively. It showed me how improvisation is its own kind of discipline, how getting lost is a form of education. I never imagined I’d be invited back years later to collaborate with artists I once watched on café computers — working with actors like SRK, making videos like “Lean On” that crossed billions of views, nearly dying during spiritual side quests in Leh and Varanasi, falling for Bollywood sweethearts, and still believing every strange turn meant something. Twenty-five years later I returned to these roads, riding nine hours a day across the Himalayas on a much newer Enfield. And then — perfectly — I ended up performing at a massive Enfield festival in Goa and celebrating afterward in a motorcycle garage, as if time folded back on itself. Two decades have changed India and me both. But every time I come back, I feel the same truth: growth happens when you surrender to the unknown, when the road teaches you more than any classroom could. India was my beginning. And somehow, it still is.