My unfinished story!!

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,

Then fade away into the night.

They die too soon, their race is done,

But I'm still here, without a sun,

No second chances, yet I stand,

A quiet life, across the land.

I know that after death's embrace,

These lessons learned will leave no trace.

If born again, in future years,

My own words read, might bring forth tears,

Of faults discovered, fresh and new.

So what's the point of all I gain?

This wisdom small, still brings me pain.

I feel so little, though I've known,

A wisdom small, yet all my own.

Dear Lord, This Time, I'm Angry!!

 

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 two years ago? Why did you allow something so unrealistic, so ideal for me, to happen? Why did I do something so foolish, something I'd guarded against for years? And last year? If something isn't meant for me, can't you just keep it away? And if there are loose ends, who's cleaning them up, dear Lord? Please don't tell me it's me. I prayed. That was my best.

I know my understanding of what's best for me is limited. I don't have all the answers. So, can't you just protect me? Who do you think is going to? I've even lost faith that you can change anything in my life. So, I'm begging you: Take something from me, resolve whatever I did without your approval. Maybe I make terrible choices, but I still believe you can keep me on the right path. Please, don't let me become someone I never wanted to be.

When life throws stones at you!!

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 nags at me: why does it feel like I'm constantly being given "waste" to turn into "best out of waste" projects? Why not the "best out of best"? Imagine the marvelous creations I could build if I had premium materials, rather than expending all my energy transforming scraps into something merely meaningful. When you start with the finest raw materials, the end product is undeniably more appealing than something painstakingly crafted from discarded junk. The effort required to make something worthwhile from waste is immense, and it often struggles to compete with creations born from fresh, high-quality materials. While an occasional "best out of waste" project can be satisfying, it's not a perpetually joyful endeavor.

I hope this metaphor resonates with your own experiences in life. Lately, however, I feel as though I'm drowning in that very "waste garbage." My interest in transforming it into anything meaningful has dwindled. Still, I find myself unable to escape, compelled to continue until something truly extraordinary offers a miraculous way out.

Oh lord of the lord's!!

 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.

When your own mother breaks your heart!!

 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 crucial wish for my own child. I don't want your love for me to be a default setting, simply because I'm your mother.

My dear child, when you are older and capable of critical thought, if you ever perceive that I've fallen short, I urge you to tell me. Come to me privately and explain where you believe I went wrong. Don't love me blindly. While I promise to always strive to be the best mother I can be, my judgment is not infallible. I'm not the smartest or the wisest, and I will make mistakes.

My only plea is that these important conversations happen in private. As I grow older, I will become more fragile and less able to cope with public humiliation. Our cultures often promote the idea of unconditional parental love, but in reality, it often comes with an unspoken boundary – the limits of a parent's tolerance for a child's independent thoughts and actions. You're too young to grasp the nuances of this now, but it's something we will both learn and grow into. I'll continue to reflect on this and articulate it better as I find the right words.

A mortal's plea to the devine!!

 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 the pain... oh, the pain. Not just the physical, but the soul-deep ache of disappointment, of betrayal, of unforgiveness.

Why must we suffer, bear such weight?

Why does resentment seal our fate?

Why can't a father just forgive,

His child's misstep, and let them live

Without the harshness of a blow?

In those moments, when my spirit aches, and tears threaten to fall, my voice often catches. My mind wants to surrender to the despair, but something deep within refuses to break. It's a silent battle.

Sometimes, it hurts, everywhere I turn,

I want to scream, but lessons learned

Keep voice held back, a silent plea.

My mind gives up, but still I see

No way to stop this pain, it flows.

And so, I ask you, God, wherever you are, listening to the murmurs of our troubled hearts:

Tell me where it ends, how soon, how fast?

When will this shadow finally pass?

When can I truly find release?

When can I finally know your peace?

 "Perhaps the answers aren't simple, but asking the questions is the first step." or "Even in the asking, there's a kind of hope."

Echoes of a Cheerleader

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.