Rest, Ghibli and the AI dilemma!!

 

"The past week, though intensely busy, proved surprisingly beneficial. The constant activity effectively quieted my usually restless mind, validating the adage that staying occupied prevents dwelling on the past or future. I found solace in work, as it shielded me from the negativity my mind tends to conjure.

Today, I've allowed myself a day of rest, indulging in some leisurely activities and preparing my favorite dishes. I also experimented with converting a photograph to a Ghibli-inspired style, which I'll share.

While the capabilities of AI are undeniably fascinating and at times, captivating, I remain ambivalent. Like any technological advancement, it presents both advantages and disadvantages. There's a concern that it may diminish the value of traditional animation and artistic skill, potentially overshadowing the unique creative output of human imagination in literature and art.

Though AI is a product of human ingenuity, it also poses a threat to livelihoods across various industries, and may contribute to a future generation facing complex, AI-related challenges.

I find myself grappling with these conflicting perspectives."

What speck of sand taught me about emotional pain!!

 Two days ago, while bringing my child home, a speck of sand got into my eye and wouldn't come out. Despite my efforts to clean it, my eye continued to hurt. This morning, I woke up unable to open it.

This experience with such a minuscule irritant has made me reflect on life's challenges. Just like this sensitive eye is easily aggravated by a small particle, our most vulnerable parts can be deeply wounded by seemingly small things. The discomfort can linger far longer than expected.

Just as the sand in my eye, seemingly a minor annoyance, has caused considerable distress, so too can the actions or inactions of others impact our mental well-being. What might appear trivial can create deep and lasting mental strain, much like an ant's presence in an elephant's ear can lead to significant agitation. Ultimately, no one should have to endure such unnecessary emotional pain.

Reflection on past and future!!

 "Imagine pleasing two versions of yourself: the wide-eyed 8-year-old and the reflective 80-year-old. They're both watching, every day.

This led me to ponder: what would my 8-year-old self have truly wanted? Likely, a simple dream—a doctor, an engineer—without grasping the depth of those paths. Later, my aspirations narrowed: financial independence, a job to call my own. I never chased grand ambitions, just a secure life. Yet, I yearned for a partner with the drive I lacked.

Why this disparity? Perhaps my subconscious, shaped by observing my parents, limited my own vision. I suspect my 8-year-old wouldn't be too disappointed with where I am now. But my 80-year-old self? That's a different story.

Impressing her will demand more. It will require actions I can't yet conceive. Will I rise to the challenge? Or will I succumb to the feeling of self-sacrifice, prioritizing others' needs over my own? This is the daily lesson life seems determined to teach, but I refuse to accept it as my final narrative."

Silly unfulfilled wishes!!

"Last year, after a long period of neglect, I rediscovered my favorite number. Today, it appeared as my OTP. A strange, serendipitous start to my evening. I find myself wishing it would appear again, in a specific, desired context.

This is another one of my seemingly insignificant, unnecessary wishes. Why do I cling to these fleeting desires? Perhaps this is what turning forty feels like—a sense of time slipping away, wishes left unfulfilled. We prioritize necessities, letting our dreams fade, only to realize later that some may never materialize.

It feels as if I'm subconsciously preparing for mortality, wanting to fulfill these small wishes to avoid future regrets. Responsibilities have overshadowed my desires, yet I know even in death, some responsibilities, especially motherhood, will remain incomplete.

The thought of leaving my young, dependent child is profoundly unsettling. Motherhood is a lifelong commitment, and its abrupt end would be the most difficult. While other responsibilities might be left behind without regret, this one is different.

Ultimately, fate will guide me. My path is beyond my control. So, what truly remains within our grasp? Perhaps, nothing at all."

Holi memories :- remembering the joy!!

 The vibrant hues of Holi, the festival of colors, suddenly flooded my mind this afternoon. I found myself reminiscing about my favorite Holi celebrations, and two distinct memories stood out.

First, there was the Holi in Jamalpur, Bihar. Our host family had extended a warm invitation for lunch, and the feast was truly spectacular.  The table overflowed with traditional delicacies: gujiya, malpua, sattu, luchi, sabji, and thandai. Many of these dishes were new to me, as they weren't commonly prepared in my home state. Intriguingly, each dish had two versions – one plain, and the other laced with bhaang.

As children, we were strictly forbidden from tasting the bhaang-infused treats. My curiosity, however, was piqued. I longed for just a tiny taste, but lacked the courage to ask. We joined in the Holi festivities with family and friends, thoroughly enjoying the vibrant atmosphere. The Bihari style of celebration was unique, featuring rhythmic dhol beats. The women, who had been busy preparing the feast since morning, joined the revelry around noon. The color play culminated in a playful mud session, a custom that was perhaps not my favorite, but certainly a part of their tradition. My lingering desire to sample bhaang remains unfulfilled, a small, whimsical regret.

Then, there was the unforgettable Holi of my final year of engineering.  Only a handful of us girls remained in the hostel, the others having departed for various courses. We decided to celebrate with a spirited water fight, armed with buckets. It was a chaotic, joyous farewell to our hostel days. The corridors were awash with water as we chased each other, gleefully drenching anyone within reach.  A particularly hilarious incident involved a classmate taking a shower. Another friend, unaware, pushed the bathroom door, causing it to burst open. The shared laughter that followed echoed through the hostel.

This year, unfortunately, I was unwell and unable to participate in our society's celebrations. My husband had work, and my son was hesitant to join, fearing he might catch my illness. So, our Holi was limited to enjoying the traditional sweets.  But, as the saying goes, "relive those old memories a zillion times," and that's exactly what I've done today.

Happy Holi!

Building bridges in time!!

 The relentless march of time, an equal measure for all, propels us inevitably towards our end. Though we know death is certain, our minds often resist using the present wisely. But perhaps, this realization itself is the first step towards change.

Regret weighs heavily on me, a deep sorrow for the time I squandered with those I loved. My mentor, Melissa, initially seemed distant, testing my patience and withholding opportunities. For a year, this continued, then slowly, she began to open up. She became a source of invaluable guidance, sharing life lessons during our calls, shaping me into a mentor myself. I planned to call her, but then, she was gone. A birthday voicemail, a precious gift discovered in my work files, is all that remains. I cherish it, just as I cherish the videos that preserve my father's voice. These fragments are all I have of moments that have vanished. But within those fragments, I find a powerful reminder: love endures, lessons remain, and the impact of connection transcends time.

If only I had known those were my last moments, I would have held them closer, hugged them tighter. Now, all that remains are the memories, replayed endlessly in my mind. Yet, these memories are not just echoes of the past; they are blueprints for the future. They teach me how to cherish the present, how to love more deeply, how to be truly present with those around me.

Yes, I'm surrounded by those who take me for granted, their actions chipping away at my self-worth. I know I'm not perfect, but I am me. Their dismissive attitudes force me to erect walls, to set boundaries. While this might be a form of self-preservation, a shield against future hurt, it also reveals a yearning for genuine connection. I choose to believe that these experiences, painful as they are, are opportunities to learn and grow. I will strive to find the courage to communicate my needs, to build bridges instead of walls, and to seek out those who value me for who I am.

Why can't we lift each other up, progress together, rather than create these isolating barriers? Why do words and actions inflict such deep wounds, making trust seem like foolishness? These questions remain, but I refuse to let them define my future. Instead, I will be the change I wish to see. I will extend kindness, practice empathy, and cultivate a spirit of collaboration. I will learn to discern genuine connection from fleeting interactions, and I will trust that there are those who seek the same. I will trust that the pain I feel now will lead to a deeper understanding, and a more fulfilling future. I will seek wisdom, and I will believe that a more compassionate world is possible, starting with me.

Shailaja's story : support and struggle of life.

 "Talking to Shailaja today, now a homeowner, was eye-opening. She finally felt comfortable sharing her journey with family and friends. We found a shared sentiment: sometimes, family support is lacking, while unexpected support comes from outside. It's as if friends become the brothers and sisters we need, backing our dreams when family seems indifferent, or even adversarial.

Shailaja's story is a testament to this. Her school and college friends were instrumental in helping her secure the land for her house, and then provided financial assistance to build it. Their support was invaluable, a stark contrast to her family's perceived lack of concern for her future. This experience has reshaped her perspective, highlighting the pain and isolation many endure.

Even a simple, belated compliment can resonate deeply, a reminder of the hard-earned wisdom life imparts. Today's generation might label this accelerated growth as "adulting," but it reflects the harsh realities that force us to mature quickly.

Life undoubtedly strengthens us, but for what purpose? What is the point of relentless resilience? The meaning of life remains elusive. I, too, grapple with uncertainty about the future, focusing solely on the present. Sometimes, the internal struggle is overwhelming, and finding solutions is a constant challenge. However, connecting with others and hearing their stories offers hope and a sense of shared experience.

Shailaja expressed a desire to write her story, but questioned who would read it. It's a valid concern – who wants to confront the uncomfortable truths many silently endure? Can we collectively address this pervasive sense of isolation and diminished self-worth? Can we transform these silent struggles into a narrative of collective support and empowerment?"

Nadaaniya!!

 

 "जाने दिया था तुम्हें, फिर भी यह दिल क्यों रोता है?

  जो मेरा था ही नहीं, उससे दूर होकर,

 आज भी यह दिल क्यों रोता है?"

 "ऐ खुदा, यह कैसी तकदीर है तेरी,

 जो मुझे बेबस कर देती है?

 क्या करूँ इस नादान दिल का,

 जो बेवजह मुझे रुला देता है?"

  "जब सब कुछ जाना ही है,

  तो यूँ सितम न कर,

 मुझे ले चल, और ज़ुल्म न कर।"

Materialism in later life: an observation and inquiry!!

 "I was talking to my mom about her recent visit with our extended family, specifically my father's cousins, all now over 80. She mentioned their continued, almost heightened, focus on money. Even though their children and grandchildren are financially secure, they remain meticulously calculative about every expense. This behavior, understandable when they faced resource scarcity, seems out of place now. Their families want them to relax, enjoy their lives, and accept help, but they cling to their possessions and routines. They resist moving in with their children, deeply attached to their homes and belongings.

This observation resonates with my own mother-in-law, who, in her late sixties, continues to work, finding satisfaction in meticulously tracking her daily earnings. She, like my father's cousins, exemplifies a strong attachment to material possessions. This contrasts sharply with our generation, where finances are largely digital, and the daily accumulation of cash is foreign.

The irony is that these individuals often preach detachment. Yet, their actions demonstrate the opposite. Their reluctance to relinquish control and trust their families, their insistence on maintaining their routines, and their focus on material wealth seem incongruous with their age and circumstances. Why, instead of embracing a life of service or simply enjoying their retirement, do they cling so tightly to material things? Is it normal for attachment to material possessions to intensify with age, rather than diminish? I'm genuinely curious to understand the psychological or sociological factors that contribute to this phenomenon."

Maintaining equipoise of mind!!

 "I recently read a book on forgiveness by a speaker I admire. He used the story of Sita's abduction to illustrate the importance of maintaining composure during difficult times. He's right; controlling one's mind is a constant struggle, especially when challenges pile up, leaving no room for respite. While we all possess inherent divinity and deserve happiness, life often throws us into a relentless cycle of pain. Maintaining equanimity is easy when life is smooth, but far more challenging when it's not.

It's true, we all have things to be grateful for, yet that can feel hollow during intense hardship. We crave support and cooperation, but these aren't always available. I often question if my own forgiveness is reciprocated. It feels like I'm expected to give without receiving, to act without desire. "Expect nothing" is my mantra, but how can action exist without some form of intention? I know I haven't reached that state of pure detachment.

These trials have deepened my spiritual understanding, but I recognize how much I still have to learn. Sometimes, I wonder why I wasn't taught these lessons earlier, but dwelling on the past is futile. I'm grappling with a sense of detachment from everything I do. Is this a healthy path? I'm left with more questions than answers, a constant stream of inquiries."

Triumph and turmoil:A days reflection!!

 Today's entry begins with a story of triumph: Sailaja. If you remember that from my earlier post on real life stories about Shailaja. After years of hardship, she's finally achieved her dream of owning a home. Reflecting on her journey, I'm struck by the sheer resilience it must have taken. Raising her daughter alone, navigating financial obstacles, and securing a stable future for them both – it's a testament to her strength. Imagine the emotional weight of those years, the constant uncertainty. Yet, she persevered. She learned, she adapted, and she built a life worthy of celebration. 

 I can't help but wonder about the emotional toll, the constant worry, the sheer weight of responsibility she carried. It's a triumph, undoubtedly, but it also raises a fundamental question: why does life have to be so relentlessly difficult? We're given one life, and for so many, it's a struggle for survival. Where is the balance? Where is the ease, the love, the support we all crave? I struggle with reconciling such hardship with my faith. It feels like a fundamental imbalance.

Her youth vanished, consumed by the relentless demands of single parenthood, a constant battle against financial strain. The weight of sole responsibility, meant to be shared, pressed down on her for atleast 21 years until her daughter finally found stability. How does one sustain faith through such a protracted ordeal? Doesn't everyone deserve a life filled with love and joy? This felt like a silent, unacknowledged punishment. If divine mercy exists, how can such a fate be explained? What word describes this experience?

The journey of Shivaratri: remembrance and beyond!!

 Seventeen years later, your memory resurfaces, vivid as ever. I recall that time with startling clarity: my chickenpox, my youngest brother's looming board exams, and my father's hurried journey to collect me. We went to Vijayawada, his then-posting, where the doctor's medications painted my face with a thick, ominous coating. As a young girl, I feared the scars they might leave. The drugs made me drowsy, and I languished in my father's quarters, the humid heat a stark contrast to Bangalore's climate.

Then came Maha Shivaratri. My mother's call brought devastating news: your suicide attempt. You were in the hospital, conscious, but when you spoke, you addressed your mother as your sister's mother, not your own.

Now, I understand the depth of your anguish. The day after Shivaratri, my mother called again, this time with finality. You were gone. Shiva, it seemed, had chosen to end your suffering. I hope he granted you peace, a better existence. If reincarnation is real, I hope your current life is filled with joy. You would be around fifteen or sixteen now, perhaps facing your own board exams. Do well this time. Build a meaningful life, and don't give up.

Your tragedy, I believe, strengthened my mother. She nurtured me through my own emotional turmoil years later, teaching me to forgive, both others and myself. Forgiving others came easier than forgiving myself. Though I pretended otherwise, the guilt lingered for years. I never realized how deeply intertwined these events were.

Did your experience fundamentally change how my family reacted to my own struggles? Perhaps. Are we still connected in some unseen way? Could you be near me, unknown?

We often dwell on "what ifs," mourning futures we envisioned but never realized. Losing you is a regret that still haunts me.

This Shivaratri, my brother is moving, and I pray that Shiva will guide him in all his plans. Seventeen years, and the memories still echo.

I used to observe the Shivaratri fast since my third year of college, stopping in 2008 due to illness. I'm unsure if I continued the following year, but eventually, I stopped altogether. I felt Shiva had not granted my wishes. It took time to understand that perhaps he had, in a way that was right, if not for me, then for someone else.

This year, I've decided to fast again tomorrow. But this time, I won't ask for personal wishes. Instead, I'll ask Shiva to reveal his plans for me, to guide me. I want to see if this surrender, this acceptance, is the true wisdom I should be seeking. 

Ohm! Namah Shivay!!

Colouring with broken crayons!!

 Today is Vijaya Ekadashi, and it fell on a Monday, which meant less cooking for me. However, I felt rather down all day. My mind raced relentlessly until evening. Some days are just like that—they come and go without offering any relief.

I felt a little better after evening, though. I had this sense that life has shattered me into pieces, but then I remembered the saying, "Broken crayons still color." Even though I felt restless, I continued with my duties. It's exhausting to maintain hope in a seemingly hopeless situation, to keep my spirits up, knowing that my hard work might not be as rewarding as it should be.

Ideally, I should be thinking about early retirement at this age. Instead, my plans have gone in the opposite direction. It's disheartening to experience delays in everything I aspire to, but do I really have a choice? My introspection leads me into a whirlwind of past decisions, choices that seemed right at the time but ultimately didn't serve me well. Nevertheless, I survived.

I don't understand what life is trying to teach me, or why. I just believe I'm still the same person I was before I entered the real world after graduation. Somewhere deep down, I'm still that girl who simply did her part without thinking about the consequences.

The bare minimum!!

 The phrase "I don't need much doesn't mean I deserve the bare minimum" resonated deeply with me. It made me realize how this applies to so many areas of life, not just material possessions.

For instance, I'm not a foodie. This doesn't mean I should eat bland, unappetizing food every day. Yesterday's dinner outing brought this home. We rarely eat out, and I'm perfectly fine with that. However, I occasionally crave non-vegetarian food. My husband is a strict vegetarian, and before we went to the restaurant, I specifically asked him if they served non-veg. He said yes, but it turned out to be a lie – it was a purely vegetarian establishment. I was incredibly disappointed. I've compromised my own food preferences for him, yet he can't even occasionally accommodate my desire for non-veg, even once a month.

If I had met my husband before marriage, I might have given up non-veg entirely or never would have married him. But that didn't happen. I entered this marriage largely for my family's happiness, hoping to find a loving and understanding partner. Instead, I'm faced with someone unwilling to respect even small, infrequent requests.

My mind keeps circling back to why I got married in the first place. I married with the hope of finding a partner who would exceed my expectations. I've been committed to my duties as a wife, but why do I have to constantly remind someone of their responsibilities towards me? Shouldn't these things be freely given?

Yes, I'm not a foodie. I prioritize healthy eating and cooking. But it feels like no one understands my needs. My mother advises me not to expect anything from people, only from God. But where is God in all of this? Why have I received only the bare minimum, with nothing extra to feel even a little contentment?

Arranged marriages: a gamble of your life!!

 I recently heard a disturbing story about a woman in Punjab who faced immense pressure after giving birth to her third daughter. She was told not to return home from the hospital if the baby was a girl. It's appalling that women are still subjected to such cruel treatment for something they have no control over – the sex of their child. No educated woman should have to endure this.

This situation highlights the immense societal and familial pressures that can lead women into marriage, often without truly knowing their partner. A woman might not discover her partner's true character, particularly regarding support and acceptance, until after conceiving. This underscores the importance of knowing one's partner before marriage, yet many families in India still prioritize arranged marriages, viewing marriage as a union between families rather than individuals. While some are fortunate to find compatible partners, others suffer regardless. What are your thoughts on this?

The buzz around the Hindi film "Mrs.," a remake of the Malayalam film "The Great Indian Kitchen," is hard to ignore. Yet, I've chosen not to watch it, not wanting to dwell on a reality we all know too well. Indian women, sadly, have often internalized these domestic expectations as simply part of their duty and life. While progress is being made, and some women are fortunate to have supportive partners, is this the norm? Certainly not. Societal change is happening, but at a glacial pace. Too often, women lack support from their husbands, fathers, and brothers when they need it most. The "kitchen politics" from in-laws and the constant scrutiny from even their own families can make women feel less like human beings and more like commodities. And yet, we still boast about the greatness of our culture.

Today, I acknowledge, without reservation, that this aspect of our culture is far from ideal. Marriage often feels like a lottery, and the realization of its true nature can be deeply disillusioning. This, perhaps, explains the rising divorce rates, the increase in extramarital affairs, and the growing number of women choosing to forgo marriage altogether.

The unspoken "what ifs"

 A short story about a young househelp, forced into early marriage, resonated deeply with me. She yearned for the chance to have chosen a different path, one where she could have pursued education and explored the world beyond her family's confines.

This feeling of "what if" struck a chord. Even though I married in my late twenties and had a child in my mid-thirties, and my marriage wasn't forced, I still wonder if I could have made different choices. That nagging sense of unrealized potential sometimes makes me question my self-worth. I find myself asking, "Why do I feel this way?"

Perhaps this is why I understand the projected decline in marriage rates by 2050. Are we destined to bear responsibilities without truly enjoying our present? How can we shape our lives to achieve contentment, happiness, and fulfillment? These questions constantly occupy my thoughts. I'm currently working on something that I hope will address these feelings, but I'm not ready to share it until I'm certain it will come to fruition.

I was also inspired by a story about a classmate's 72-year-old mother. After retiring from her career as a lecturer, she began investing in and selling flats in the Delhi NCR area. Her resilience is truly admirable. I remember from our school days that her family had faced some difficulties. I never had the courage to ask her about her father, but I knew he was either absent or had left them. Her mother, with the support of her parents, raised her and her older sister single-handedly. To overcome such a traumatic experience and build the confidence she now displays in her seventies is remarkable. I have so much respect for her strength.

These resilient women serve as powerful examples of how to live a fulfilling life, even amidst life's challenges. I hope more people will share similar stories of courage and resilience.

Dreams and acceptance!!

 Seeing a Nissan Sunny with my favorite number on it while picking up my son today brought a spontaneous smile to my face, touching something deep within me.

It made me think about how some of my dreams seem to have been taken away, like pieces of my bright future were stolen. I adapted, following the path laid out before me, and stopped revisiting those beautiful dreams. But now, I've learned to accept them, even if they never become reality.

So many little things I could have done never happened, and probably never will, in this lifetime. Yet, I still wish they could.

A mother's plea!!

 My child, when you are grown and wise and free,

Remember, Mom's just human, plain to see.

Not God above, but earthly, flawed and real,

I learned from mistakes, the stumbles that I feel.

When you arrived, my life was upside down,

I didn't know how to hold you, little one,

Or feed you right, or soothe your tiny frown.

I learned with you, each moment, slow and new,

Felt unprepared, though I had waited long for you.

I wondered how my own mom made it seem so light,

While I fumbled through the day and through the night.

I did my best, the love I had to give,

Though maybe other moms more brightly live.

I loved you deeply, with all my heart and soul,

And gave you what I thought would make you whole.

But when you're older, and you understand,

Don't put me on a pedestal, so grand.

Remember, flaws are part of who I am,

Forgive the times I didn't meet your plan.

Perhaps you'll wonder why I brought you here,

But darling child, forgive, and have no fear.

Do women need men? A modern perspective!!

 I recently watched a video where men and women were asked if they felt they needed a partner. All the women interviewed said they didn't, while all the men said they did. This prompted me to consider why women today seem less inclined to seek romantic relationships with men.

One possible explanation is financial independence. Women now often earn comparable salaries to men, yet they frequently still bear a disproportionate share of household responsibilities. Even with increased male participation in chores, or the option of hiring help, many women don't perceive a need for a male partner. This begs the question: why, as social creatures designed for connection and family, are younger generations seemingly less interested in traditional relationships?

It's no longer simply about security, love, or family. Many women appear to be opting out of the complexities of managing a relationship, including navigating the dynamics of a partner's extended family. Anecdotally, single women seem to report higher levels of happiness than married women, while the opposite appears to be true for men.

My own views have shifted over time, as I've considered both Indian and Western cultural values. Western cultures, for instance, don't have the dowry system and prioritize love and individual happiness in marriage, often choosing cohabitation over remaining in unhappy formal marriages. While each approach has its advantages and disadvantages, I believe a synthesis of the two could be ideal. However, it's now up to the next generation to chart their own course. What guidance should we offer them?

Indian values might sometimes compromise individual needs, while the abundance of choices in Western culture can lead to indecision. Ultimately, successful relationships aren't solely the result of hard work; luck and destiny play a role in finding the right person. Then, the real work begins – nurturing the relationship to endure, or accepting its dissolution. Regardless, it's essential to be prepared to live independently at any time.

Love in Modern times!!

 Happy Valentine's Day! I hope everyone finds love and experiences the kind of love they desire.

Today, while appreciating the positive aspects of our culture, I also want to address some areas that need improvement. Based on my own experiences, I believe these points contribute to the problems we see in relationships and families today:

 * Traditional gender roles have shifted. While women now contribute equally financially, they often still carry a disproportionate burden of household chores and childcare. Even with hired help, the mental load of managing the household often falls on them. This imbalance can create strain.

 * Despite progress, women are sometimes still treated as inferior to their partners, facing subtle (or not-so-subtle) discrimination, sometimes even from in-laws.

 * While intercaste marriages are becoming more accepted, it often seems to happen more easily when the woman comes from a wealthy or influential family, suggesting that power dynamics still play a role.

Even in arranged marriages, family wealth and influence are often prioritised over other factors when selecting a bride.

 * The pursuit of wealth and power has, for some, overshadowed the importance of family values and genuine connection. These material factors can become the primary focus in relationships.

 * Issues like sexless or unsatisfying marriages are often suffered in silence. The societal emphasis on arranged marriages, where families are heavily involved, can make it difficult to prioritize individual needs and happiness.

 * Divorce is often stigmatized, even when it might be a healthier option than remaining in an unhappy marriage.

True love involves prioritizing another person's happiness, not just clinging to them for selfish reasons. In a world that often feels isolating, it can be difficult to find someone who truly understands and meets our emotional needs.

Key to your chains!!

 I came across this quote: 

"They say one who cannot help self cannot help others. But, I have a key to your chains and my lock is not the same as yours." 

 It really struck a chord. It's true, I struggle with my own problems and haven't found solutions for them yet. However, I can often see what others need to do to address their own issues.

I try to be there for my family and friends, listening to their pain. Sometimes I offer suggestions, other times I simply offer compassion. Even if I can't fix their situations, I try to provide whatever support I can. Just knowing someone is there and understands can be a huge help. I know firsthand how painful it is to feel completely alone, even surrounded by loved ones. I've experienced that isolation and wouldn't wish it on anyone.

Magha purnima: Introspection!!

 Tomorrow is Magha Purnima, a significant day for followers of Mahima Dharma, a faith my grandfather was connected to.  It's also a personally meaningful date, as I began my first job on this very tithi.  It felt like a blessing, a direct link to my ancestors.  Unfortunately, I had to leave my work five years ago, and I've been searching for the right opportunity to return to work ever since.  While I'm eager to start again, nothing suitable has materialized.

I sometimes struggle with feelings of frustration, questioning why I've lost so many people and things I cherish.  It's hard not to wonder if this is some kind of karmic retribution, and I've spent a lot of time introspecting, trying to understand if there's a deeper purpose to this period of waiting.  Frankly, though, I just miss what I've lost.  The pain of unmet expectations and the difficulty of letting go are a heavy burden.  Why does life have to be so challenging?  This extended period of waiting for a breakthrough is agonizing, but I know I must persevere, regardless of how I feel.

Why this long period without the things I long for? What is the direction of my life now?

Forgiving self, finding peace!!

 I was inspired by an article about Kumar Mangalam Birla retaining an employee despite a costly mistake. It reminded me of a former colleague who made a similar error early in her career, incurring a significant fine for our organization.

Despite this, she wasn't fired. In fact, she thrived and was even given an opportunity to work abroad. Ironically, during this time, she faced another challenge, losing her belongings in a foreign country. While this must have been incredibly stressful, it highlights the unpredictable nature of life.

What struck me most is the resilience of this individual. She not only overcame a major professional setback but also navigated a difficult personal situation. It underscores the importance of focusing on the positive, as our spiritual practices suggest.

While her superiors demonstrated incredible support, I wonder about her personal journey. Did she easily overcome the guilt and self-doubt that often accompany such experiences? Forgiving oneself and letting go of the past is a significant challenge.

How does one achieve this inner peace, and how long does it take? This is the real question. Perhaps her story, and others like it, can inspire us to find our own paths to self-forgiveness and growth. 

It's admirable when those in authority overlook our errors, choosing instead to focus on our strengths. However, the person who made the mistake, even unknowingly, often struggles with guilt over the oversight. This dynamic plays out in relationships as well.

We extend repeated chances, hoping for growth in others. But when that growth doesn't materialize, or the person fails to even acknowledge the opportunity they've been given, it's disheartening. Worse, they may begin to take our support for granted, forgetting that their presence is valued. This can cause significant pain for the person who initially forgave their mistakes. Regret sets in – regret for forgiving them, regret for ignoring the warning signs. The most difficult part, perhaps, is forgiving oneself for overlooking those signs and continuing to support someone who clearly took that support for granted.

Ultimately, the hardest challenge remains self-forgiveness and finding a way forward.

The Universal quest: Health, happiness, love!!

 A line from a recent book, "We are all spiritual beings having human experiences," has stayed with me. It's a profound thought, yet it raises a question: If God is within us, why do we search for God? Why is higher learning focused on knowing God, and ultimately performing actions (karma) that lead to resting in God?

This quest reminded me of an Indian-origin non-believer's journey to find God. She inadvertently discovered that most people around her, regardless of their beliefs, shared four common desires:

 health, 

happiness,

 love 

and riches. 

These are universal aspirations. Yet, we constantly fight amongst ourselves, rejecting the ideas and beliefs of others, even though we all ultimately seek the same things, albeit with slight variations. Where is this leading us?

Ekadashi: Time for myself!!

 It's Jaya Ekadashi and a Saturday, so I enjoyed a leisurely start to the day. Since my husband is fasting, I didn't have much cooking to do. While it's traditional for both partners to observe the Ekadashi fast, I find I don't have the same energy for it as I used to. I typically cook kichadi for myself and my son on this day—it's an easy one-pot meal. However, today I made a simple brinjal and potato fry with rice. I have leftover dalma for my son, and I'm looking forward to making puliogere for myself, which I haven't made in ages.

Dinner will be sabudana kichadi for both of us, and I'll make roti for my son. I always feel relaxed on Ekadashi and try to focus on other things. I pray that I can enjoy what God has planned for me and be able to focus on higher learning.

With each passing day, as I learn more about life, I realize how easily we get caught up in accumulating possessions that ultimately won't stay with us. This often leads us to lose sight of the things that truly will. Therefore, I quietly pray that I may focus on accumulating those lasting treasures, in addition to the legacy I leave behind.

Life's inevitable journey!!

 Life doesn't offer a fast forward. You must experience each chapter, encounter every person you're meant to meet. Some encounters will be unpleasant, some will build you up, others will heal you, and some will cause pain. None can be avoided. You might find yourself caught in "what ifs" about the past, but remember, at the time, you made the best decisions you could. Those tempting "ifs" weren't part of the equation then.

We all process experiences differently and face unique challenges. Our individual journeys are irreplaceable. Therefore, concentrate on the present and personal growth.

True peace may be elusive in the world, but you must choose it daily. This builds strength, even though your mind may constantly question how to prepare for it. Ultimately, life will force you to be strong, regardless. It may seem paradoxical that life teaches strength only to eventually detach you from everything you hold dear. But this is the reality – a gradual, inevitable detachment.

A clever solution - by Madhusudan Das!!

 Tomorrow is Madhusudan Das 's death anniversary which happens to be my father's birth anniversary. So, narrating an incident that shows how he used his inherent qualities in favour of people of Odisha. 

A destitute old woman once sought justice from Madhusudan Das. Her plight was dire: a village landlord had seized her only possession, a small plot of land bordering the village road. Madhu Babu, known for his compassion, reassured her, promising to visit her village soon.

The following day, Madhusudan Das arrived in his horse-drawn cart. Near the old woman's disputed land, he instructed his driver to dig a pit. As his cart approached the pit, the wheel became deliberately ensnared. Madhu Babu then summoned the villagers. Feigning distress, he inquired whose land had caused him this trouble.

To everyone's astonishment, the landlord, eager to distance himself from any accusation, pointed at the old woman and declared, "It's hers!" Seizing this moment of unwitting admission, Madhusudan Das promptly drew up legal documents transferring ownership of the land to the old woman. He then presented the papers to her, securing her rightful claim.

This incident exemplifies Madhusudan Das's cleverness and wit, qualities he employed to uplift the marginalized and ensure justice prevailed, even against powerful adversaries.

My favourite poem from Madhusudan Das is as below with its english translation,

Tu para bolau

Utkal Santan ?

Tebe kimpa tuhi bhiru !

Tohar Janani

Rodan karile

Kahibaku kimpa daru ?

To' purbapurushe

Bira paniare

Labhithile kete khyati

Hakima nikate

Dukha kahibaku

Kimpa thare tora chhati ?

To purbapurushe

Jaya karithile

Ganga tharu Godavari,

Tankari aurase

Janma hoi tuhi

Keun gune tanku sari ?

Tu mane bhabuchhu

toshamada kari

Badhaibu Jatiman

Toshamadiara

Kukura prakruti

Aintha patare dhyan.

Jatira unnati

hebakire bhai

Swarthaku Jagat mani ?

Godar godare

maunsa lagile

Deharaki subha gani ?

Jatira unnati

se kahin kariba

Swarthe jar byasta mana

Shaguna bilua

Chikitschak hele

Saba ki paiba prana!!

It's English translation 

This is a poem by the Odia poet Madhusudan Das. It is a patriotic poem that calls on the people of Odisha to be proud of their heritage and to work for the betterment of their state.

Here is a translation of the poem into English:

"You call yourself a son of Utkal?

Why are you so afraid?

When your mother weeps,

Why are you afraid to speak?

Your ancestors

In the midst of war

Achieved great fame,

Why does your chest tremble

To speak of your sorrows

To the rulers?

Your ancestors

Conquered lands

From the Ganga to the Godavari,

Having been born of their lineage,

What qualities do you possess

That make you forget them?

You think

That by flattery

You will increase your status,

But the nature of a flatterer

Is like that of a dog

Whose attention is fixed on stale food.

How will the nation progress, my brother,

If you consider only your own interests?

If you apply ointment to a wound

But do not care for the root cause,

Will the body be truly healed?

How can one

Who is preoccupied with his own selfish interests

Work for the progress of the nation?

Even if a jackal or a cat

Pretends to be a physician,

Will it be able to save anyone's life?"

The poem is a powerful call to action. It urges the people of Odisha to be proud of their heritage and to work for the betterment of their state. It also warns against the dangers of selfishness and flattery.

The poem is still relevant today. It reminds us that we should be proud of our heritage and that we should work for the betterment of our community. It also warns us against the dangers of selfishness and flattery.

Why worry??

 I was talking to a friend today, and it struck me how much things have changed. I remembered a time when I was anxious about the future, and this same friend had simply told me, "Why worry?" Now, they're saying it will be hard to say goodbye if we meet again because of all the memories we share. It's true – I haven't forgotten those memories over the years; they've become a part of me, almost a lesson in detachment, like a higher education in life itself. I couldn't say anything but agree.

It's a strange blessing, this lingering care that I can't quite feel yet. I'm grateful for it, though. I wanted to express my thanks, but I didn't want to make things awkward, so I kept quiet.

I also learned to perform a personal SWOT analysis. Using a spreadsheet, I would document my capabilities and limitations. Looking back, I smile at my own methods for navigating life's challenges.

A token of gratitude!!

 So much of what we receive in life comes from others. We can't possibly repay it all: a smile from a stranger, a kind compliment, a listening ear from a friend, support when we're down, the unconditional love of our parents, the care of a partner, a child's loving hug. These gifts are freely given. Gratitude isn't hard, but we all have days when we forget to appreciate them.

Limits and survival!!

 Knowing your limits is sometimes the wisest course of action. The world, governed by the principle of survival of the fittest, often favors the physically and economically stronger. Similarly, those with powerful support networks hold an advantage.

Forgiveness is often preached, but its practicality depends on your relative strength. Can you truly forgive someone who outmatches you in every way? In such a scenario, forgiveness becomes self-preservation—an acknowledgment of your inability to retaliate. Accepting your limitations and avoiding conflict with a superior opponent is often the most prudent choice.

Life is about navigating these realities. Your life is valuable, and assessing an opponent's strength is crucial. While painful, it's often true that the only option is to let go of the conflict. This is the harsh reality of the often-dramatic world we inhabit.

From a dream to a difficult conversation!!

 After my morning routine, I drifted into a short nap and dreamt of my father. He appeared younger, wearing a purple and white striped shirt, in an outdoor setting. He looked happy and conveyed his love, a sentiment he rarely expressed so directly in life. His love was always shown through his unwavering support of my decisions, most of which were made with his guidance, though I occasionally followed my heart over his advice.

The nap was brief, but perhaps my subconscious is preoccupied with him as his birthday approaches. The past few years have been difficult; I became seriously ill shortly after his passing, and now, as his birthday nears again, I find myself in dream with him  I'm unsure what the future holds.

A recent incident in my community, where a couple is desperately trying to raise funds for their seven-month-old daughter's rare disease, sparked a difficult conversation with a friend. She, ever practical, expressed a harsh truth: sometimes, letting go is necessary. While it's a sentiment no parent wants to hear, it raises a valid point. If saving a child means depleting all your resources for a potentially incurable disease, what future remains? It's not just about saving a life, but also planning for the future that follows.

This brings up an agonizing question: as a parent, where is the line between fighting to save your child and accepting the possibility of letting go? It's a decision beyond grief, a choice between unimaginable difficulties.

I recall a former teammate who lost his two-month-old baby. He kept a picture of the infant in his cubicle, and I passed it daily, feeling immense sorrow for him and his family. I often thought of suggesting he remove the picture, that perhaps it was time to let his child find peace, but I never found the courage to say it.

A day of reflections!!

 With prayers I began, for a fruitful day,

But fate had other plans, come what may.

A strange proposal, a sudden delight,

Then hurtful words, in the fading light.

From loved ones' pain, a lesson I've found,

Acceptance now, on this hallowed ground.

The years have flown, with trials I've faced,

But wisdom grows, at life's steady pace.

The gift of others!!

 Through others' hands, our life begins,

By others nurtured, spirits within.

Education's path, by others shown,

Friendship's embrace, a bond unknown.

Work's opportunities, by others given,

Love's gentle touch, a gift from heaven.

Even in death, their hands we see,

A final act, for eternity.

What truly ours, in this fleeting span?

Experiences, and karma's plan.

Remember this, with grateful heart,

For every soul, a vital part.

Finding focus in gratitude!!

 "Today, I struggled to concentrate. My mind kept wandering, unable to anchor itself to the tasks crucial for achieving my goals. January is almost over, and I find myself anxiously anticipating the fulfillment of a cherished wish. Yet, the monotony of daily life often weighs me down.

Recently, I stumbled upon a passage from a revered spiritual teacher, and it resonated deeply with me. It reminded me of the fundamental importance of gratitude. I acknowledge that maintaining this state of appreciation amidst the challenges of my life, which often seems far from ordinary, is a constant struggle. Nevertheless, gratitude has been a cornerstone of my resilience.

As a parent, my focus naturally shifts towards my child, a necessary redirection from my own concerns. Perhaps this is the intended path. I strive to instill gratitude in him through our simple prayers.

My own journey with prayer began in childhood, guided by my parents. I continue to recite the prayers they taught me, while incorporating mantras learned from friends. While the Sanskrit language may obscure the deeper meaning for some, most of these mantras emphasize gratitude and seek forgiveness for our shortcomings.

I yearn for a deeper understanding of mantras and the art of prayer, and how to effectively integrate them into my daily life."

Lost and searching!!

 "I feel a deep longing to open up to someone I love deeply, but I know I'm no longer their priority. The caring I once felt is gone, and I desperately miss it. I yearn to share these feelings, but my friends are in different life stages.

Finding someone who understands these intimate struggles is incredibly difficult. Trust and respect, once broken, are hard to rebuild completely. Even when things seem fine on the surface, I feel a deep sense of helplessness. I question the meaning of a long life filled with this emptiness. I never wanted to live a life without joy, only to question its purpose in the end. I wonder if my past actions have brought this sadness upon me. Why do I feel unforgiven? Is forgiveness only for humans to offer, not the divine? What kind of person was I in past lives to deserve this suffering?

As I age, my hope dwindles, my abilities diminish, and my potential feels limited. How can I live with this sense of decline? Where can I find someone who truly understands my pain? I'm human, experiencing a range of emotions that are hard to express. You say to focus on the present, but knowing that my life feels fundamentally broken, how can I pretend otherwise?

Why couldn't you make things easier for me? I feel powerless, while you possess all the power. Why deny me this relief?"

The allure of unnecessary!!

 "Independence Day tomorrow has the city buzzing. Colorful vendors line the streets, tempting me with frivolous purchases. I know I have everything I need, yet the urge to indulge in unnecessary desires is strong. This frivolous yearning feels both pointless and strangely familiar.

My son's playful energy clashes with the sudden onset of boredom. My gaze lingers on a display of beautiful gowns, knowing they'll likely gather dust in my closet. This inexplicable urge to buy, despite knowing it's unnecessary, is perplexing.

They say true luxury lies in resisting the urge to buy. But what kind of luxury is this? A strange and unexpected consequence of my success, this internal struggle leaves me questioning its purpose. What is this teaching me? I don't know the answer, but the journey of self-discovery continues."

Masks and mirrors!!

 "The common belief is that those who cry easily are pure of heart. However, my experience suggests otherwise. I suspect that frequent tears are often a ploy for sympathy and a way to deflect blame.

Life's philosophies, including religious texts, often portray existence as a theatrical performance. We are all actors on this stage, from birth to death. Yet, some individuals seem to wear an additional mask, concealing their true selves. Who do they benefit by this deception?

A childhood story about a dog in a house of mirrors resonated with me. We all perceive the world through our own lens, projecting our own qualities onto others. We gravitate towards those who mirror our own characteristics. In the story, one dog joyfully interacts with its reflection, while another reacts with aggression.

However, reality rarely aligns with this simple metaphor. We often encounter situations where initial friendliness turns into hostility.

The ability to discern ulterior motives and potential harm is paramount. Imagine embarking on a long journey with someone harboring ill intentions. It becomes impossible to disembark once their true nature is revealed, leaving you stranded and vulnerable.

Life's unpredictability can feel overwhelming, akin to navigating in perpetual darkness. How can one cultivate patience, faith, and trust in such an uncertain environment? This constant uncertainty can leave one feeling shattered and lost."

Netaji museum visit!!

 Today marks the birthdays of Subhash Chandra Bose and Vir Surendra Sai. Five years ago, on this very day, I visited the Netaji Museum for the first time.

Prior to my visit, I had heard and read about Subhash Bose, but I was astonished to learn about his affluent family background. His ancestral home was a grand estate with expansive gardens and even a stable for horses.

The museum houses a comprehensive collection of photographs documenting his life from childhood to his mysterious disappearance. It is an impressive institution, generously donated by his family to serve the community. In today's real estate market, this property would undoubtedly be worth crores of rupees.

Following my visit, I watched a film or documentary about Gumnami Baba. However, I still find it difficult to reconcile the image of a brave and fearless leader like Subhash Bose with the idea of him spending his final years in hiding. Is it truly conceivable that such a courageous individual would choose a life of seclusion?

The truth surrounding his disappearance may forever remain elusive. Speculations abound, ranging from a meeting with Lal Bahadur Shastri in Tashkent to his living in seclusion as the ascetic Gumnami Baba. Regardless of the actual circumstances, the people of Cuttack, his birthplace, will never forget this valiant son of their soil.

An unexpected call!!

 Today, the unexpected unfolded. A voice, slightly deepened by time, resonated after a fourteen-year silence. The feeling was indescribable, a strange blend of familiarity and something… else. Was it genuine emotion, or was I simply losing touch with my capacity to feel as the years passed?

The conversation itself demanded my focus. I couldn't help but ponder the "what ifs" – how much more I might have learned had things taken a different path. But destiny, it seems, had other plans. Detachment, a harsh lesson life repeatedly imparts, is a necessary practice. This encounter serves as another test, a chance to avoid past missteps.

Acceptance, not expectation, is the key. Yet, this unexpected call feels miraculous, a reminder that life can hold astonishing surprises.

I'm ready to see what the future holds.

A woman's struggle!!

 "This morning, a college friend called me in distress. She's been unwell for 18 days, yet her family hasn't sought medical attention. This deeply troubled me.

The "good girl" label seems to come with a heavy price. Does her existence only matter within the confines of serving others? Is she merely a vessel for fulfilling familial obligations? Societal norms dictate that women shouldn't return to their parents' home after marriage unless facing dire circumstances. Yet, do these maternal homes truly provide the support they should? Where is the compassion from parents and siblings?

After marriage, a woman often becomes solely dependent on her husband's support. What happens when that support falters? Does she become invisible, forgotten by everyone? Her own parents may utter words that exacerbate her depression, while siblings, burdened by their own families, offer little solace.

She's trapped by the need to maintain family reputation, unable to openly express her pain. What does this "good girl" tag truly offer her? In today's world, basic human rights are still violated within families. A woman's well-being is often contingent on luck and privilege, not on her inherent value.

My friend poured her heart out to me, her voice filled with the anguish of loneliness and lack of support. I urged her to seek medical help independently, to break free from the cycle of dependence. But whose fault is it truly? Why are women conditioned from childhood to prioritize obedience over self-reliance? Why aren't they empowered to become independent? And why doesn't her husband actively support her growth?

It's a deeply unjust system that expects women to thrive without the necessary support and encouragement."

Unanswered longing!!

"Today at the park, I met an elderly lady, perhaps in her 70s. We struck up a conversation, and I found myself drawn to her warmth and eagerness to connect. She mentioned her affiliation with the Brahma Kumaris and shared some insights about their teachings.

In turn, she inquired about my life and family. I answered honestly, but the conversation took an unexpected turn when she suggested I have another child. This isn't the first time I've encountered this advice.  My old friends make similar suggestions.A former colleague made a similar suggestion, after I shared a quote about the unique qualities of daughters.

"Every family deserves a daughter who has her father's temper, mother's attitude. Does not like being said what to do and loves too hard."

The quote resonated with me deeply, but the underlying reality is that I cannot share what I went through to have my son. These well-intentioned inquiries, while natural and a common way to build rapport, can be incredibly painful. It's a private sorrow, a longing that exists silently within me.

I understand that people are simply curious, but these questions often stir up a deep sense of loss and disappointment. While I try to respond politely and truthfully, there are no easy answers, and the pain remains.

It feels like sharing some truths, like a heart attack, would be so much easier. People readily share diagnoses of serious illnesses like cancer, almost as if they've achieved something extraordinary. Yet, we shy away from discussing relationship struggles or fertility challenges. Perhaps it's a uniquely modern burden, a future I've been forced to confront.

I know many others who've walked this path, who've accepted this as their fate. It sometimes makes me question my past deeds. I wonder if my current suffering is a consequence of actions in a previous life. I see injustice prevail, criminals escaping punishment, and I question why I, who strives to be good, must endure this. Do I, too, exist merely as an afterthought?"

Stargazing memories!!

"After a long break, I indulged in a bit of stargazing this evening. I was particularly excited as January is supposed to witness a rare celestial event – a near alignment of several planets, including Jupiter, Mars, Venus, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune, culminating on the 25th.

To prepare, I quickly downloaded the Sky Map app and ventured out to a location with minimal obstruction from the towering buildings. I managed to spot Venus, likely due to its proximity to Earth compared to Saturn, as I could only discern one celestial body in the western sky.

Above me, Jupiter shone brightly, a magnificent beacon in the night sky. This celestial spectacle transported me back to my 10th grade, when my youngest brother and I would spend evenings gazing at the stars from our rooftop. The skies were much clearer then, perhaps due to the absence of city lights. I remember answering his countless questions about the cosmos, a cherished memory that filled me with a sense of nostalgia.

With a heart full of wonder and a touch of melancholy, I returned home to prepare dinner."

The ethics of injustice!!

 "Recent news reports have detailed the arrest of a fraudulent couple. The woman underwent plastic surgery to conceal her identity while perpetrating these illegal activities. They have been apprehended and will now face imprisonment.

However, a profound question lingers: How many individuals live a life of luxury built on deceit, escaping detection throughout their entire existence? If such individuals exist, what valuable lesson can we glean from their actions? They experience a life of unparalleled opulence, enjoying every conceivable luxury – a life most people could only dream of. So, even if they are eventually caught, does it truly matter? They have already savored a life of extravagance financed by ill-gotten gains. A mere fraction of these individuals are brought to justice, while the majority continue to enjoy their ill-acquired wealth without ever facing consequences. How then do the principles of karma and the concept of divine justice reconcile with this reality?

When individuals engage in dishonesty and reap rewards, while those who adhere to ethical principles endure hardship, it raises profound questions about the nature of good and evil. How does one motivate oneself, or inspire the next generation, to embrace goodness in the face of such apparent imbalance? It's tempting to question the very existence of a higher power, demanding an explanation for this perceived injustice.

My logical mind struggles to comprehend this disparity. How can I instill in my children the importance of virtue when it seems to bring more suffering than pursuing one's desires? I yearn for an encounter with the divine, a chance to engage in a profound debate until I receive satisfactory, logical answers, if such a being truly exists."

Thoughtful lines!!

 There is always some truth behind

                 "Just kidding"

There is always some knowledge behind 

                 " I don't know"

There is always some emotions behind 

                  "I don't care"

There is always some pain behind 

                  "I am okay"

The illusion of support!!

"I remember hearing Indira Nooyi speak about the challenges of balancing family, children, and a career. She graciously thanked her supportive husband, family, and colleagues for her success. That resonated deeply with me.

Reflecting on my own journey, I realize I didn't receive that kind of support. My husband, parents, and in-laws struggled to understand the unique demands of motherhood. My project unexpectedly shifted, requiring relocation or significant skill upgrades. I desperately needed to work from home but was denied that option. When I finally decided to quit, the COVID-19 pandemic hit, throwing my life into further uncertainty.

This series of events shattered my hopes of maintaining a fulfilling career. I felt like I failed, not because of any personal shortcomings, but due to the lack of support from those I expected to rely on. It became painfully clear that my happiness was not a priority for anyone else.

Perhaps this was a test, a way for the universe to show me how unprepared I was for motherhood. Maybe I was seeking suffering, a consequence of my own desires.

Now, I don't yearn for much. I work, but the joy is gone. I question whether fulfilling my desires would truly bring me happiness.

Tum jo itna muskura raho ho, Kya gam hai jisko chupa rahe ho!!

 "Tum jo itna muskura raho ho, kya gam hai jisko chupa rahe ho" This line, quoted by a classmate on a photo I shared after my wedding, continues to haunt me. It accurately reflected my reality – I was indeed masking my pain with a forced smile.

I deeply regret not being bolder and expressing my true feelings. I prioritised the fragile hope of my marriage succeeding, neglecting my own emotional needs. Now, I acknowledge that this approach did not serve me well.

I urge everyone to prioritize their own well-being. While breaking societal norms may invite criticism, no one truly understands the depth of your suffering. The internal struggle between "good" and "bad" often paralyzes us, leading us to live for others instead of ourselves.

While being kind is important, it shouldn't come at the expense of your own happiness. Boldness, though challenging, can lead to a more fulfilling life. Unfortunately, this lesson often comes too late.

When we constantly prioritize others, we inadvertently squander precious time, chances, and opportunities. And one day, we may find ourselves regretfully alone.

Reflecting on my life, I've identified actions I wouldn't repeat, providing valuable lessons for the future. However, pinpointing precisely what could have led to a different outcome remains elusive.

Wish you a very happy Makar Sankranti!!

Surrendering my Karma's!!

Forgive me, God, this life, I cannot see,

Its purpose veiled, though I strive constantly.

Each dawn, I pray for karma, pure and bright,

Yet anger flares, a consuming light.

My challenges, a source of endless strife,

Instead of growth, ignite a burning fire.

Helpless I feel, a ship adrift at sea,

No respect for myself, it seems to me.

Did you create this life to cause me pain,

These emotions deep, a constant, surging rain?

I hide my wounds, though tears may freely flow,

Struggling to believe your will must somehow grow.

The meaning of Life!!

"I often find myself grappling with a sense of frustration, questioning the divine architect who designed this peculiar life questionnaire. It seems that no matter how I approach the challenges presented, the answer, the solution, always eludes me. I feel as though I've been handed an exam paper completely outside the scope of my studies.

I recall an incident from my school days: a simple essay topic, yet I produced a complex, unconventional piece. My teachers, while acknowledging the effort, awarded me third prize, deeming my response 'inappropriate for my age.' Life, and the essay God has assigned me, feels similarly out of place, not necessarily difficult, but certainly unconventional. I could have chosen not to engage, but that wouldn't have brought me contentment, nor does it now, despite my prolonged efforts.

This life throws constant, seemingly unproductive challenges my way. What am I striving for? Who am I trying to impress? What is my true purpose? And why does this purpose fail to inspire me?

I feel a suffocating sense of rebellion. I welcome challenges, but these seem pointless, offering no meaningful growth. Why am I compelled to perform actions that feel incongruous with my inner being? If I cannot satisfy the divine within with my answers, how can I expect validation from anyone else?

God, please cease these humbling experiences. I surrendered long ago. Please take the reins, guide me away from this perplexing existence, and allow me to pursue something, anything, that feels meaningful to me."

An unexpected encounter!!

"Today, as I settled into my flight, I was startled to see a familiar face in the row ahead. It was him – the man I met fifteen years ago, during a rather awkward arranged marriage meeting.

It was a time I wasn't ready for commitment. My mother, eager to please his family, insisted I attend, despite my reservations. My brother's advice – "Just go, eat, and come back" – still makes me chuckle.

I remember feeling overwhelmed at the time. He expressed a desire for his wife to prioritize her career, a stark contrast to my own desire for flexibility and the freedom to prioritize family.

The meeting ended abruptly when he pressed me for an immediate decision. I was taken aback by his impatience and politely declined, deferring to my parents.

Seeing him now, a wave of memories washed over me. I couldn't help but reflect on the past and offer a silent apology for my rejection.

This unexpected encounter has left me pondering the twists and turns of fate. Why this encounter now? What is the significance of this chance meeting after all these years?

It's a reminder that life is full of surprises and that the paths we take, both chosen and unforeseen, shape who we are today."

When silence speaks??

 I longed to confide in someone about my troubles, hoping to find solace in sharing my burdens. Yet, a deep-seated fear held me back. I worried that exposing my vulnerabilities might strain our friendship. Ultimately, I chose silence, leaving me to grapple with my thoughts alone. When will I learn to let go of these endless ruminations?

Navigating relationships can be challenging. Knowing what to share, with whom, and where to seek support is crucial. When sacrifices and compromises become one-sided, it can strain even the strongest bonds.

 I've accepted that my pain is a part of my journey. If it's meant to be alleviated, it will happen without my conscious effort. I'm ready to embrace whatever changes or challenges may come my way, trusting in a higher power.

New year's wish!!

 New year’s hug, a hopeful start,

A blank page, a brand new art.

May joy and love forever impart,

A year of bliss, right from the heart.