"the world"

I wish I'd learned, when I was small, To set my goals, and give my all. To hit each target, year by year, And chase away all doubt and fear. I wish for siblings, older, wise, To teach me things before my eyes. To show me what I ought to do, And guide my steps the whole way through. I wish I'd put my looks first, then, My confidence, again, again. For girls, a truth, I now can see: Looks matter most, for you and me. I wish I'd left before they left, Before my heart felt so bereft. To guard myself from feeling deep, No promises I couldn't keep. I wish I'd chosen love for me, Not sacrificed so willingly. To own my wrongs, with open mind, No hiding places left behind. I wish I'd prayed for my own soul, And made my well-being truly whole. To know I'm just as worthy, too, As anyone, in all I do. I wish for bravery, strong and bold, A story waiting to unfold. So many flaws, I carry still, Yet here I am, by strength and will. Some find success, and fame so bright, T...

  It's not often I feel this way, but right now, I'm genuinely angry. Angry at you, my Lord. I wish more than anything I could sit across from you and just get some answers. You've appeared for others, for your devotees. I know I'm not a grand devotee, or someone particularly special. You are out of your abode to meet everyone. But please, tell me: Where did I go wrong? I look at my friend – she had her fun in college, got divorced a few years back, and now she's getting remarried. Is love and trust really that easy for some? If so, why has it been so incredibly hard for me? Why couldn't I just give up on this seemingly "out of syllabus" life questionnaire that felt impossible from the start? Am I being punished for even attempting it? My choices have led me down a dark, uncertain path. Why couldn't I have made the same choices as my friends? Even realizing it now, I still don't have the courage to just walk away from everything. And what about...

During my college years, a particular quote resonated deeply with me: "If you throw a stone at me, I will carve statues out of it." It felt like a more active, perhaps even defiant, version of the familiar "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade." The first time life truly taught me a lesson through hardship, not through gentle learning, that quote immediately came to mind. I even posted it on my Facebook wall. A friend, perhaps trying to be witty, commented, "So, we should throw stones at you?" It stung, making me question if I was inadvertently inviting negativity into my life. Since then, my journey has felt less like a stroll through a garden and more like navigating a rocky path. It often feels as though life has thrown more stones my way than it has offered pleasant memories. Despite this, I've consistently tried to embody that quote, reminding myself to keep going and to make the best of every challenging situation. Yet, a persistent question...

 Oh, Divine within, my very soul's own core, You see me bare, know depths I can't explore. Yet in this knowing, a space I feel, unbound, A whisper of Your presence, nowhere found. No plea for boons, no bounty do I seek, For Your true wisdom, my spirit's humble peak. This time, no gratitude, no whispered prayer, But all I am, laid vulnerable and bare. Take this, I beg, before my spirit shifts, Before the changing winds bring weary drifts. Claim all of me, and set my spirit free, Make haste, dear Lord, for patience fades from me. I've learned its grace, yet now it slips away, Before my thoughts condemn me to dismay. Oh, right my sums, untangle every thread, Let tears not fall, nor bitter words be said. Release me now from every binding deed, In peace, not fragments, plant my final seed. Accept this offering, swiftly, I implore, And let me find my peace, forevermore.

 I'm reeling from something I read today – a news story about a mother who abandoned her 16-month-old baby for ten days to go on vacation, returning to find the child had cried to death. The sheer lack of remorse from this woman, who was sentenced to life imprisonment, is utterly soul-destroying. As a mother, this incident has shattered some fundamental beliefs I held. It's a brutal reminder that the capacity for immense cruelty can exist even within a mother. We're so accustomed to elevating mothers to near-divine status in our cultures, celebrating their role as life-givers. And yes, mothers endure incredible pain, they nurture, they care. But this story, and others like it, force me to confront the uncomfortable truth: a mother's love isn't always unconditional. It can wane, or even disappear, especially if a child challenges her will, or if she simply doesn't truly value them. Not every mother embodies goodness. This profound realization has led me to a cruc...

 Sometimes, the world just feels... heavy. The news, the hurt, the way we treat each other. And in those moments, a silent scream rises from deep within. A question, directed to the heavens, that feels too big to even whisper: Oh, God, If you protect us all, If you nurture every soul, Then why the hate, this human mess?  Why don't you stop this bitterness? It's a bold question, I know. We're taught of your immense power, your endless grace. But then I look around and wonder:  Are you so mighty, do you need To come as Avatar, plant a seed Of goodness here, on earthly ground? Can't hearts be changed, without a sound, From deep inside, where true change lies? We wait. We suffer. We hope for a better time, a peaceful place. But why does it feel like an infinite journey, a cycle of pain we must endure? Why must we wait, so very long, Or die and rise, where we belong, In peace at last, a sacred space? If love is truly your embrace, Why can't we simply reach there now? And...

I didn't hate the one I held so dear, But your love for me just wasn't clear. You let me go, without a sigh, No feeling touched you, watching me fly. It hurts me still, this very day, I miss what was, come what may. But I know well, it means to you Nothing at all, my heart so blue. So what then, is the greater ache? To feel such pain, as love forsakes. To know my love, though strong and true, Was never quite enough for you. I forgot what loving truly meant, Only to learn, when all was rent, That love is caring, deep and wide, Even if in your heart, I cannot reside. And worse, to live, forever bound, By knowing I'll never again be found As "enough," in any heart or mind, A broken piece, left far behind.

Oh, to be that cheerleader, The one I yearned to be. To lift my voice in joyful cheer, For victories, wild and free. I miss the taste of sweet success, Baked by my own two hands. The special meal, a loving press, For triumphs across the lands. But fortune's gaze, it turned away, No luck for me, it seemed. My patience tried, my courage frayed, A path I'd never dreamed. No grand parades, no quiet joys, No wins, nor small nor great. My wishes now, like fading toys, Succumb to cruelest fate. Yet sometimes, from the shadows deep, A memory takes hold. One person gone, a promise to keep, My world shattered, stories untold. And still, I breathe, still here am I. Alive, beneath a fractured sky.

 Having tasted life's design, A wisdom deep, I then did find: That patience holds a truth divine, The very core of humankind. Should cruel words sting, or judgment fall, 'Tis patience that withstands it all. When cherished bonds begin to pall, 'Tis patience answers freedom's call. When anger burns, a sudden fire, 'Tis patience calms the wild desire. When hopes are met with no acquire, 'Tis patience lifts us ever higher. So let its gentle current keep, Your spirit flowing, soft and deep.

  Yesterday morning, a message popped up on my phone: "A parcel has been booked for you in India Post." My immediate reaction was a mix of surprise and suspicion. Who would be sending me something via India Post? Then, this morning, another message arrived, stating the parcel was near my location. My alarm bells were ringing. A few years ago, I'd almost fallen victim to a similar scam involving an unexpected parcel and demands for excise duty. I braced myself, fully expecting a call from a scammer, ready to demand payment for some fabricated customs charge. But a nagging question lingered: how could a scammer generate a legitimate India Post tracking number, one that was actually traceable on their official website? This thought truly bothered me, especially considering how easily such tactics could trick elderly individuals. As evening approached, my phone rang. A man's voice on the other end announced, "I'm from the post office, and I'm at your door. Pl...

 I recently stumbled upon a video clip that left me perplexed and a little unsettled. It featured a woman, seemingly around my age, radiant in a red princess dress, accepting an award. What truly caught me off guard, and honestly, irked me a bit, was her insistent prompting to the announcer. "Make sure they know I won that pageant a few years back!" she’d loudly interject. Then, "Don't forget to mention I'm a celebrity jury!" And, almost immediately after, "Announce that I'm the CEO of XYZ company!" My mind reeled. "Wow," I thought, "how the fundamentals of self-promotion have drastically changed." It felt like a direct contradiction to everything I was ever taught – a time when we were repeatedly told, "Don't brag about yourself." It just goes to show, time truly changes everything, even the very essence of how we present ourselves. This incident dragged me back to a vivid memory. I once had a manager who aske...

  अभी तो आधा ही साल बीता है, हादसों ने हर रोज़ हमें है सताया है कभी मासूम घूमने गए, जान गँवा बैठे, कहीं खुशियों के रंग में मातम छाया। दफ्तर जाते हुए लोग फिसल कर गिरे, कोई परदेस जाते-जाते दुनिया से विदा हुआ। छात्रावास में पढ़ते-पढ़ते किसी ने दम तोड़ा, हर हादसे ने दिल को गहरा दर्द पहुँचाया। ये सब देख हर कोई मायूस हुआ, पर कुछ ऐसे भी हैं जिन्हें मौत का बेसब्री से इंतजार है। साँसें चलती हैं, पर जीवन थम सा गया है, वो बस जिए चले जा रहे हैं। मेरी बातें शायद अजीब लगें, पर ज़रा सब्र से सोचो: वो बूढ़े, बीमार माँ-बाप, जो लाचार हैं, अपने काम भी नहीं कर पाते, उन्हें मौत का इंतज़ार है। जिनके छोटे बच्चे लाइलाज बीमारियों से पीड़ित हैं, वो भी बस मौत की राह ताक रहे हैं। आखिर कब तक कोई जीवन से मोहब्बत करे, गर ज़िंदगी हर पल इम्तिहान लेती रहे? ऐसे लोग दुआ करते हैं, "बस आ ओ मौत, हमें ले जा।" पर देखो इस माया को, किसे कब ले जाए? मरना तो सबको है, पर कोई हादसे का शिकार है, तो कोई उम्मीद लगाए इंतज़ार में  है, कि मौत जल्दी आ जाए।

 प्रेम क्या होता है?? जैसे इंजीनियरिंग की डिग्री पर IIT का स्टाम्प !! प्रेम क्या होता है ?? जैसे सिल्क की साड़ी पर जरी का काम !! प्रेम क्या होता है जैसे काजू कतली पर चाँदी की वर्फ !! प्रेम वह है जो किसी को और सुन्दर बनाये  जैसे कृष्ण के छूने से बास बासुरी बन जाए !!

You might think I'm always expressing my anguish in my posts, and yes, I am. I admit it. For the past few years, I've been going through a very hard time personally. I've also seen terrible things happen to people I care about. I used to wake up and try to think positively, hoping for a better day, but I've given up on that now. Today, for example, I was doing quite well until my friend called this evening. She finally opened up about the money problems she's facing after losing her husband. I grew up hearing that Empowering  women is vital for a healthy society. But tell me, what exactly does "empowerment" mean? Is it just about a girl being born, getting an education, being allowed to work, and then marrying into another family who decides her future? After marriage, it seems a woman's fate is sealed. If she's lucky, she'll have an understanding and supportive husband who takes care of her needs. Otherwise, no one cares about her because ever...

Oh, the ache in my soul as I revisit those ancient words! I wrote them so long ago, musing on the very essence of my name, Sharmistha. I wondered then, with a youthful innocence I now mourn, what did that queen, that noble Sharmistha , truly gain from the countless sacrifices she made for her kingdom, for her people? Even then, the answer was a whisper of despair: only pain. Today, after what feels like an eternity, that same agonizing question rips through me, only this time, it's my own life I hold under the microscope: what have I gained from the endless compromises I've made? And the answer, a cruel echo from the past, screams back: pain, nothing but pain. I never claimed to sacrifice for anyone, no grand, sweeping gestures. But I've been forced to compromise on a level that gnaws at my very being. Is there truly a difference between sacrifice and compromise? Google, in its cold, clinical wisdom, says compromise is a negotiation, a middle ground, while sacrifice is a su...

 It hit me hard when I saw that post—a woman celebrating her divorce with a huge cake, a photoshoot, and a party that looked like a destination wedding. My immediate, gut reaction was a surge of confusion and discomfort. I know, I know, I shouldn't judge other people's choices, but let's be honest, we all filter the world through our own beliefs, don't we? It just makes me wonder... is this what we've come to? People shelling out significant money—hundreds of thousands, even—on lavish vacations or luxury cars to "get over" something as deeply personal as a breakup or divorce. It's almost as if they're screaming, "These emotions? They're worth so little! I can just replace them with something shiny." When there are genuinely caring people who would offer them comfort and support, freely given from the heart, it feels like such a stark contrast. Then, I saw something even more perplexing: people buying luxury cars right after a parent...