Devdas Drama and my grumpy shoulders!!

 Back in 2011, I wrote a post about that famous Devdas dialogue where everyone tells him to leave everything—the village, the girl, the life.

"Babuji ne kaha gaun ko chhod do... sab ne kaha sab kuch chhod do."

Fast forward fifteen years, and I’m still being told to "leave it." Leave the anger, leave the past, leave the stress. My career decided to leave me first, and my body decided to "leave" its ability to lift my arms because of a staircase fall I took in 1995.

Apparently, my shoulders have a better memory than my husband when I ask him for breakfast.

The Great Staircase Sequel (No One Asked For)

You know you’re a "Petite Powerhouse" when your body decides to re-enact a twenty-year-old accident just to make a point. I woke up this morning and my arms said, "Remember 1995? We do. And we’re on strike until further notice." It’s a classic Sharmistha move—being "dragged" into a sacrifice I didn't sign up for. I didn't choose to be a martyr; I just got cornered by a staircase and a cold that won't take a hint.

The King in Gold vs. The Woman in Pajamas

I’ve had a few words with the Almighty lately. I told Him, "Listen, You’re sitting in temples wearing gold and diamonds like a King, while I’m sitting here in my pajamas with a blocked nose. Who’s really winning here?"

I realized that if God has an ego, then as a Gemini, I’m allowed to have a double dose of it. If the universe wants me to be the "foundation" , it could at least provide some better snacks and a husband who understands that "bringing breakfast" isn't a three-day project.

My New "To-Don't" List

In 2011, I was asking for a list of what to do. Today, I’m making a "To-Don't" list:

Don't expect me to be "gentle" and "serene" when I’m sick. I’m not in a mood right now.

Don't tell me to "chhod do" (leave) my anger. I like my anger. It keeps me warm while I wait for my slow breakfast.

Don't compare me to "tall models" on a ramp. I’m built for stability. I’m the one you want nearby when the ramp eventually collapses because it was built by people who don't understand foundations.

The Bottom Line

Life might be trying to "Devdas" me into a corner, but I’m not drinking the sadness. I’m drinking ginger tea and judging everyone from my bed.

The world can keep its golden statues and its "tall" requirements. I’ve got a letter from my son that’s worth more than a temple, a brother who actually appreciates my taste, and a spirit that refuses to be "dragged" anywhere without a fight.

To my readers: If the world tells you to "chhod do" (leave) everything, start by leaving the people who give you a headache. It’s much lighter that way.

Matching the Spirit: The Photo Cake That Crossed the Miles!!

 My brother is one of those rare people who always "gives more." Whether it’s flowers, cakes, or time, his generosity has always felt like a benchmark I couldn't quite reach. But this year, for his birthday, I decided to stop measuring and start "matching."

​Knowing he isn't fond of sweets, I skipped the usual sugar-heavy hampers. Instead, I sent a savory combo namkeen and dry fruit treats. But the centerpiece was a custom photo cake—and I knew exactly which memory to use.

​The photo I chose was one of our favorites: a picture of my brother and my son, both beaming with joy. They were wearing matching t-shirts he had brought back from Thailand. It’s a photo that perfectly captures the bridge between my childhood (him) and my future (my son).

​The Surprise Reveal

​When we got on the conference call yesterday after the delivery, I told him, "Open the cake and have a look."

​Unlike the minimalist reactions I sometimes encounter, my brother is a great communicator. He was genuinely taken by surprise. Seeing his own face alongside my son’s, captured in a moment of pure happiness, hit exactly the right note.

​I’ve spent a lot of time lately feeling "petite" in my life—feeling like my needs and my results are somehow smaller than everyone else's. But today, as we laughed on that con-call, I didn't feel small.

​To match the spirit of a big giver requires you to tap into your own abundance.  It’s about the observation. It’s about knowing that he loves savory over sweet. It’s about remembering the significance of those Thailand t-shirts.

​When my son showed him the letter and drawings he had made, the circle was complete.

​I hope I did better than ever before this time. Not because I spent more, but because I saw him more clearly. I realized that I don't need a "Hollywood-style" movie script to feel successful. I just need these moments where the miles vanish and the girl named Soumya feels exactly like she is "enough."

​To my readers: Sometimes the best way to get "unstuck" is to focus entirely on making someone else feel seen. When you match someone's spirit, you realize your own spirit was never small to begin with.

Happiness: My new year's tradition!!

 Since 2011, I’ve made it a tradition to wish everyone happiness on New Year’s Eve. Over the years, I’ve come to truly understand the profound weight behind the simple blessing our elders give when we touch their feet: "Khush raho."

It sounds so simple, yet it is perhaps the most powerful wish of all. To remain in a state of happiness despite the chaos swirling around us is a true grace. This year, I want to pass that same intention on to you.

My wish for you in 2025:

"May your year be defined not by the noise of the world, but by the quiet joys that fill your heart. I hope you find magic in the ordinary, strength in the challenges, and a year full of moments that make you truly glad to be alive."

The Girl Named Soumya: A Birthday of Miracles and Memories!!

They say your name is the first gift you ever receive, but today, I realized it’s also a time machine.

As my birthday approached, my phone began to buzz with messages from childhood friends. They didn’t use my formal name or any of the titles I carry today; they called me Soumya.

Hearing that name felt like a warm wave of nostalgia. Soumya is the girl who existed before the "300-page life" got complicated. She is the girl who laughed without reservation and dreamed without limits. To be called Soumya today was a grounding reminder that no matter how much I evolve, that core version of me is still alive and well inside.

A Miracle from the Almighty

This birthday has felt like a series of small, perfectly timed miracles.

My husband brought home a mango cake, and my brother sent a stunning bouquet of orchids and a chocolate cake. But the moment that truly took my breath away happened at my son’s school.

Entirely by chance, my son and his teacher spent time yesterday writing a letter to me. They had no idea it was my birthday today. My son sat there, focused and intent, decorating a piece of paper with vibrant colors and hand-drawn flowers just to tell me he loves me.

In a world where we often have to "ask" for what we need, receiving something so precious without asking felt like a direct message from the universe. It was as if the Almighty had planned this miracle specifically for me—a reminder that I am seen, I am loved, and I am exactly where I need to be.

The Perfect Connection

The magic didn't stop there. As we were just about to cut the cake, my family organized a conference call. The timing was so precise it felt scripted as we were celebrating much ahead of midnight for my son's school. Suddenly, the miles between us vanished.

There I was, surrounded by the scent of orchids and the taste of mango, listening to the voices of the people who have known me since I was just "Soumya," while holding a letter decorated by my son.

Refined and Grateful

As I officially turn a year older, I am realizing that life isn't about the grand, "Notebook" style gestures. It’s about these quiet, miraculous alignments—the name that brings you home, the unexpected letter from a child’s hand, and the family that calls at the exact moment the candles are lit.

I’m entering this new year of my life with a full heart. I’m carrying the sweetness of the cakes, the beauty of the orchids, and most importantly, the colorful, flower-covered miracle of my son’s words.

To my readers: Sometimes the universe has a way of giving you exactly what you need, right when you need it, without you saying a word. Have you ever experienced a "miracle" that felt like it was planned just for you?

A Morning of Double Blessings: Samba Dashami meets Vaikuntha Ekadashi

 

The kitchen was humming earlier than usual today. As the first rays of the sun touched my windows, I found myself juggling two of the most significant traditions in my household.

​It started with a late-night phone call from my mother yesterday—a gentle reminder that today is Samba Dashami. Then, a quick glance at the calendar revealed a double blessing: it is also Vaikuntha Ekadashi, one of the most powerful and auspicious days for devotees of Lord Vishnu.

​With my husband observing the Ekadashi fast and me preparing for Samba Dashami, our home is currently a beautiful mix of penance and feast!

​The Sweet Tradition of Healing

​Ever since my son was born, I have kept the tradition of offering Puri and that iconic, deep reddish Odia Kheer (the kind of caramelized kheer). In Odisha, Samba Dashami isn't just a ritual; it’s a mother’s shield.

​The day honors Samba, the son of Lord Krishna, who was cured of leprosy by the Sun God. Today, we carry that legacy forward by praying for the health and longevity of our children.

​Memories of Village Pomp

​My mind keeps wandering back to my village today. On days like this, the atmosphere there is electric! My grandmother is likely the busiest person in the village right now. In our tradition, she doesn’t just offer dishes for her own children, but for every single grandchild and great-grandchild.

​I can almost see the scene: my uncles arriving with bags full of sweets from the market, and my aunts huddled in the kitchen, steam rising from large pots of Ghanta Tarkari and various Pithas. It is a communal celebration of family health.

​A Tale of Two Traditions

​If you are wondering why today is so special, here is the "spiritual gist" of what we are celebrating:

​1. Samba Dashami: The Sun’s Grace

• ​The Legend: Celebrates Samba’s recovery from illness through the grace of the Sun God.
• ​The Ritual: Mothers offer a staggering variety of food (sometimes over 10-12 dishes) to the Sun at three different times of the day.
• ​The Vibe: Gratitude, health, and a mother's fierce love for her children.

​2. Vaikuntha Ekadashi: The Door to the Divine

• ​The Legend: It is believed that the Vaikuntha Dwara (the gates of Lord Vishnu’s abode) open today.
• ​The Ritual: Devotees observe a strict fast and spend the day in prayer to seek Moksha (liberation).
• ​The Vibe: Peace, discipline, and spiritual elevation.

​From My Kitchen to Yours

​As I plate the golden Puris and the rich, caramelized Kheer, I feel a deep sense of connection to my roots. Whether it’s the rigorous fast of Ekadashi or the elaborate offerings of Samba Dashami, the heart of the festival is the same: family, faith, and a prayer for a bright future.

​Happy Samba Dashami and Vaikuntha Ekadashi to you all!

The Original Science Influencer: Why Sage Uddalaka is a Total Vibe!!

 

​If you think "question everything" is a modern trend, you haven’t met Uddalaka Aruni. Living in India around 700 BCE, this guy wasn't just a sage; he was basically the CEO of Logic and the pioneer of the "Main Character Energy" philosophy.

​While everyone else was focused on rituals, Uddalaka was out here running experiments. Here is why he’s the ancient icon you need to know about.

​1. The OG "Human Shield" (The Hustle was Real)

​Before he was a master, Uddalaka was an intern (student) named Aruni. One night, a massive storm threatened to flood his teacher's farm. When the embankment broke, Aruni didn't just tweet about it—he laid down in the breach to block the water with his own body. He stayed there all night. That’s "Zero Excuses" energy. His teacher was so impressed he gave him the name Uddalaka (The one who rose up).

​2. The "Salt in Water" Experiment 🧂

​Uddalaka had a son, Shvetaketu, who came home from gurukul (university) acting like he knew everything (classic Gen Z move, tbh). Uddalaka humbled him with a DIY science experiment: (click on the link in Shvetaketu to read in detail)

• ​The Task: Dissolve salt in water and find it the next day.
• ​The Reveal: You can't see the salt, but the water tastes salty everywhere.
• ​The Point: "Just because you can't see the 'Source' with your eyes doesn't mean it isn't there, son."

​3. "Tat Tvam Asi" (The Ultimate Glow-Up)

​Uddalaka dropped the hottest philosophical line of all time: Tat Tvam Asi.

Translation: "That Thou Art." He was telling us that the same energy that runs the stars is the same energy inside you. No gatekeeping—just pure, universal connection.

​The "Family & Squad" Dynamics 🤝

​Uddalaka’s circle was filled with high-achievers. Here’s the breakdown of his legendary inner circle( as per Chandogya Upanishad (Chapter 6), Brihadaranyaka Upanishad (Chapter 3) and Kaushitaki Upanishad (Chapter 1) ) 

• ​Shvetaketu (The Son): The student who needed a reality check. His dialogues with his father are basically the first recorded "Father-Son Podcast" on the nature of reality.
• ​Yajnavalkya (The Star Pupil): Imagine teaching someone so well they eventually win a "Grand Prize" debate for 1,000 gold-tipped cows. Yajnavalkya was Uddalaka’s student who became so brilliant he eventually challenged his master in a respectful "battle of the brains."
• ​Ashtavakra (The Prodigy Grandson): The boy born with eight physical curves who was so smart he was correcting his father's "pronunciation" before he was even born. Uddalaka stepped in as his mentor and father figure, proving that family is who shows up for you.

​The Takeaway 💡

​Uddalaka taught us that curiosity is a superpower. He looked at seeds, salt, and water to explain the universe. He didn't want his students to just memorize facts; he wanted them to understand the "hidden code" of life.

The "It’s Nice" Chronicles: A Birthday Survival Guide!!

 They say marriage is a long conversation. They forgot to mention that sometimes that conversation consists of one person writing a 300-page epic and the other person responding with a single-word text.

Tomorrow is my husband’s birthday. Since my son has school tomorrow, we decided to pull the birthday trigger early. Being the over-achiever that I am, I decided to go all out:

The Logistics: I calculated the school runs, the sleep schedules, and the optimal "cake-to-bedtime" ratio.

The Art Direction: I commissioned a local artist (my son) to create a custom, one-of-a-kind greeting card earlier this week.

The Centerpiece: A photo cake. Because nothing says "Happy Birthday" like eating a sugary version of your own face.

The Grand Unveiling

We did the early celebration just now. The candles were lit. The card was presented with the flair of a royal decree. The cake was sliced. I waited for the reaction. Maybe a tear? A speech? A standing ovation?

The verdict?

"It’s nice."

The Translation

For those not fluent in "Minimalist Husband," let me translate "It’s nice" for you:

It means: "I am overwhelmed by the sugar content, but I appreciate the effort."

It means: "I am confused why my face is on a dessert, but it tastes like vanilla, so we’re good."

It means: "I love you, but I only have three adjectives in my vocabulary, and I’ve already used 'good' and 'fine' today."

Why We Do It Anyway

I knew the reaction before I even ordered the cake. I knew his "Emotional Autotune" would be set to a very low volume. But I did it anyway.

Why? Because if I waited for a "The Notebook" style reaction to show appreciation, we’d all be starving for cake. Sometimes you give the photo cake just for the "Lol" of it. You do it for the kid who gets to see his drawing on the table. You do it because "It’s nice" is better than silence.

I know he might not match my expectations of a partner every single day, but just for today, I thought: Let me do it anyway. He deserves a little appreciation for being my husband, even if he expresses it in the shortest way possible.

To all the wives out there living for the "It's nice" review: I see you. Eat a second slice of cake. You earned it.