Echoes of a Name: A legacy of pain!!

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 surrender, a giving up without recompense. So tell me, where do my choices fall? Did I sacrifice, or did I compromise? My mind, always battling, always seeking meaning, once believed sacrifice was a willing surrender, while compromise was a forced acceptance. But now… now they seem to be two sides of the same tarnished coin, separated by a line so gossamer-thin, it's invisible.

I made these choices, these agonizing concessions, because I saw no other path, no other solution. And oh, how I regret it! I regret accepting this uphill battle, this thankless task, with absolutely nothing in return. The pride I once felt in my name, the surge of meaning that swelled within me when I first understood it, when I first poured out those words on paper… it's gone. Utterly, completely gone.

A part of me, a deep, wounded part, wishes with every fiber of my being that my father had named me Soumya . What if names truly are destiny? What if they sculpt our very character? Soumya… she would have conquered, like the fierce and glorious Goddess Durga, not just accepted pain in the brutal negotiations of life's harsh choices. What if Durga herself had imbued me with that unyielding strength, that power to overcome every challenge with effortless grace? But alas, it’s far, far too late even to dwell on such a heartbreaking "what if?"