Tag: love

Woman writing a detailed travel bucket list in a notebook at a wooden desk

Not Every Dream is a Waste of Time

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Daily writing prompt
What’s a lesson you’ve learned recently that shifted your perspective?
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I grew up in a middle-class, working-class family where life revolved around work. My parents labored endlessly, and their idea of fun was taking us to the park. Even then, while we ran around carefree, they sat together on the bench, whispering about the next bill, calculating how to stretch every rupee, every dollar, every ounce of energy. Their lives were a constant negotiation between responsibility and survival.

For years, I believed my path would be no different. I imagined myself joining the cycle of endless work, exhausting my body and spirit to provide for my family, hoping that by the time age caught up with me, I’d have just enough to sustain myself. That was the script I thought I had to follow.

But something has shifted. These days, I’ve started to dream — not the fleeting kind that comes with sleep, but the conscious, deliberate kind that plants hope in the cracks of reality. I know there’s a high chance I may never achieve all that I dream of, and strangely, I’m at peace with that. Because I’ve realized it’s not the fulfillment of dreams that keeps us alive, but the act of dreaming itself. To imagine a life beyond the grind is not foolish; it’s a declaration that we deserve more than survival.

For the first time, I’ve made a bucket list. Ninety percent of the items feel out of reach, but they’re there anyway. To act as reminders of what I want, of who I am beyond the paycheck. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday. And even if someday never comes, the list itself is proof that I’ve allowed myself to hope.

Being practical is wise, yes. But sometimes, being impractical and daring to dream of possibilities is what makes life bearable. Dreams are the spark that light up the monotony, the quiet rebellion against a world that tells us to only endure. They are the whispers that say: you deserve better, you deserve more.

Teenage girl writing in a notebook at a desk in a bedroom with Harry Potter poster and packed boxes

Day 211: Finding my Independence

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Being the younger child in the family comes with a lot of privileges, but it also comes with its challenges. While I am extremely pampered because my parents literally want to do everything for me, they do not set high expectations because they don’t want me to feel burdened. They are always happy with whatever I achieve, no matter how insignificant it is.

I have now come to a stage in my life where I want to live independently. I want to have my own home — and yes, my parents’ home will always be my home. But being the younger child often means your opinions or choices are not really considered. I think I want a home of my own not for the freedom that comes with it, but because I want to decorate it the way I like. I want to finally be able to buy furniture that I love. I want to have my own office room that I can set up according to my preference, without someone constantly asking, “Do you really need this? Why this? Why that?” And of course, I want to walk around my house in the clothes I like. Since I’ll essentially be by myself, I doubt relatives will visit often, and there will be no judgment on how I look.

While the prospect of living separately excites me, it also brings with it the guilt tied to the “empty nest syndrome.” I sometimes just stare at my parents doing their regular tasks and notice the shift in the way they move. They have become slower. They have become quieter. They spend most of their days just resting, ironically scrolling through the phone or watching TV. I see them huffing and letting out exasperated sighs when they take a break after doing some tasks. They are together now, but I keep thinking: should one of them leave, how will the other manage? Would it be right for me to leave them too?

But on the other hand, I’ve received very fitting advice: “You can love and care for them, but it is not your responsibility to fix their life.” It is true — parents are the most resilient class of people. Their world keeps changing, and somehow they adapt. They may not adapt in the way you believe is right, but they find a way to adjust to their new life.

And so, I return to my desire to finally break free from the nest and find a place of my own in this world.

The Notes of Change

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Daily writing prompt
What’s a piece of media (book, movie, song) that changed how you see the world?
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usic has always been present in my life. My mother sang in the choir, and my sister was blessed with a soulful voice. By the time I was six, I too joined the choir — and from the very first note, I loved singing.

At around ten or eleven, I began to pay attention not just to melodies but to the lyrics. That shift changed everything. Music was no longer just something I enjoyed when I was happy; it became something I deeply related to when I was upset.

The first song that has truly impacted me is “Seasons in the Sun”. Its farewell theme, filled with memories and goodbyes, resonated so strongly that I often cried when I heard it. Beyond its sadness, the song reminds us of the fragility of life and the importance of cherishing the people around us. In everyday life, it teaches me to value moments with family and friends, because time is never guaranteed. Sometimes it’s the words left unsaid that matter most, and this song pushes me to express love openly before it’s too late.

Another song that has stayed with me since childhood is “Walking Away”. Its laid-back tone contrasts with its powerful message about leaving behind toxic people and situations. It’s not just about endings; it’s about courage — the strength to step away from what no longer serves you. In daily life, this resonates whenever I face difficult choices, reminding me that peace often comes from letting go rather than holding on. It reassures me that seeking space isn’t selfish; it’s self-preservation, a necessary act of survival in a world that can be cruel.

Life has shifted in countless ways: genres, artists, circumstances. Yet one thing has remained constant — music. In times of turmoil, it brings me comfort and peace. Whether through melancholic songs that let me sit with my emotions or uplifting tracks that reignite my energy, music adapts to my journey and never leaves my side.

Music is more than sound; it’s memory, emotion, and healing. It has been my mirror when I needed to reflect and my lantern when I needed light. No matter what changes, music remains my most faithful companion — guiding me through everyday life with lessons of love, resilience, and hope.

Day 204: Coming back from the Haze

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For a hundred days, I felt like I was in a state of limbo. I don’t even know how the time slipped by. What did I accomplish in the past three months? Nothing—literally nothing.

My initial determination to avoid binge shopping and be content with what I already had completely collapsed. I started buying random things—items I had kept on my wishlist for months, only to remove them from my cart because I knew I didn’t really need them. All my reasoning was gone. I was filling a hole inside me.

Yes, I bought a few things I needed, but compared to the junk, it was nothing. I loved the dopamine rush of opening parcels from online shopping sites, even though I knew it wasn’t healthy.

I stopped reading my Bible. I stopped drawing and doing anything related to art. I stopped studying. Even at work, I don’t know what I was really doing. It felt like I just slept and woke up, over and over again.

There were ups and downs that felt like whiplash. I know I’m struggling, and I’m aware my coping mechanisms aren’t good. My wallet has taken a hit, and now sleepless nights have returned. I can’t fall asleep until 2 or 3 a.m., and I can’t sleep past 8. Some days I barely sleep 3–4 hours, while other days I want to sleep all day.

Procrastination has defined these past months—extreme procrastination. My mind kept telling me to do things, but another part of me always said, “Forget it, let’s just do it tomorrow.” But tomorrow never came.

I’ve lost six months of 2026. But I still have six months left to try again. I cannot give up on myself. I am not perfect, and I never will be—and that’s okay. What matters is being the best I can be.

So here’s to starting again. You fall, you fail, but you still need to try again. As cheesy as it sounds, it’s true. I’m praying for the will to begin again.

Day 106: Recovering from the Break Down

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So I am back. Today I am smiling again, even though there is still pain in my heart. Life feels heavy right now, with so many things going wrong all at once. Some days I am simply too weak to face it. On those days, I withdraw into myself and hope that the storm will pass. It feels like the world is closing in, and all I can manage is the simple act of waking up. I want to lie down the whole day, doing nothing, because nothing makes sense. It feels like drowning on dry land—unable to breathe, unable to move forward. My heart had taken my mind hostage, and I was trapped in the tension between wanting to live fully and feeling paralyzed by pain.

My mind kept reminding me of all the things I needed to do, all the ways I should keep pushing forward. But the reminders felt hollow, because nothing seemed to matter. I don’t like this feeling, but I think it was inevitable. For too long, I’ve tried to push down the pain, convincing myself to focus only on the good things. That works sometimes, but not always. There are days when the weight of what I’ve hidden breaks through, and I am forced to face the vulnerability I fear. I hate being vulnerable. I think I am scared of what it reveals about me, scared of being seen as weak. Yet, despite that fear, I made it through. After days of feeling like everything was collapsing, I am finally beginning to emerge from the darkness. Sitting here now, writing this post, I feel grateful to be back on track, ready to work toward meaningful change in my life.

I know this cycle will repeat if I keep relying only on myself. That’s why I hope, going forward, I learn to turn to God instead of crashing out internally. He has carried me even when I never asked Him to. If He takes care of me without my asking, how much more will He take care of me when I reach out to Him for help? That thought gives me hope. It reminds me that I don’t have to fight alone, that there is strength beyond my own walls. And today, even with the pain still lingering, I am smiling again—because I believe I am being led toward something better.

Day 101: Cracked Walls, Shaken Will

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There are nights when the tide rises too high, when emotions surge like waves against the walls of my chest, and breathing feels like a luxury. Tonight is one of those nights. My mind is a storm—thoughts racing, colliding, multiplying—each scenario demanding attention, each possibility dragging me deeper into the undertow. The compartments I’ve built to keep myself functioning are collapsing, one after another, until I am left standing in the ruins.

It’s astonishing how something so irrelevant, so small, can become the final straw—the crack that shatters the whole structure. I want to run away, to escape, to leave everything behind. And yet, tomorrow I know I will begin again. I will stack bricks of compartmentalization, rebuild fragile walls, and convince myself I can breathe one more time. But tonight, I am falling.

There is irony in this collapse. A quiet voice inside me whispers: You’ve been here before. You survived. This storm will pass. But another voice roars louder, insisting that my heart is breaking, that this breakdown is shameful, that I am failing to meet the world’s impossible standards of “normal.”

Society has taught us to equate breakdowns with weakness. To cry is to falter. To panic is to fail. To admit that the mind cannot carry the weight is to confess defeat. And yet, isn’t it strange that we celebrate resilience only when it looks polished—when it’s the triumphant comeback, the motivational story, the glossy version of survival? We rarely honor the messy middle, the nights when breathing feels impossible, the moments when strength is simply enduring the next minute.

But here is the truth I am learning: weakness is not failure. A breakdown is not the end—it is a signal, a cry for pause, a reminder that even the strongest structures need repair. To collapse is human. To rebuild is human. To admit that the tide is too high is not shameful; it is honest.

So tonight, I step back. I let the walls fall. I let myself feel the weight of this moment, knowing that tomorrow I will gather the pieces again. Today, only part of me believes in my resilience. Tomorrow, I hope the whole of me will recognize it.

And perhaps, if we begin to speak of these nights openly, without shame, we can redefine what it means to be “normal.” Maybe normal is not the absence of breakdowns, but the courage to rise after them. Maybe normal is not perfection, but persistence.

Day 100: Choosing Joy, Seeking Peace

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Today feels different. It is a day of contemplation, a pause to ask myself – why am I doing this?

When I began this blog, it was with the hope of reigniting a passion that had quietly slipped away. Writing once centered me, even when my world was engulfed in chaos. Putting thoughts onto paper made the weight of life feel lighter, more bearable. It gave me perspective, strength to fight one more day. But somewhere along the way, the more blows I took, the further I drifted from writing. I lost a piece of myself without even realizing it.

I wonder—when did we move away from doing things simply for the joy of doing them, to doing things only because we have to? Today, every action seems to demand justification, a measurable benefit. My parents called it “growing up.” But in truth, it clipped the wings that longed to fly. Perhaps they too had dreams they were expected to abandon in the name of reality.

I count myself among the privileged, because I still have the choice. The choice to follow dreams, even when it goes against everything I’ve been taught. The choice to take the difficult path, knowing it may lead to failure. But I am grateful for that choice, because even if I stumble, I will have tried. And in trying, I will have chosen happiness. In a world where joy feels scarce, perhaps that is the greatest achievement of all.

While I am deeply grateful for all the blessings God has given me, I cannot ignore the reality that, in many parts of the world, people’s lives are engulfed in war and suffering. Their homes are burning, their families torn apart, and their futures uncertain. My heart aches for them, and so I lift my prayers to the heavens—for peace, for hope, for protection, and for safety.

Prayer may be the only thing I can offer from where I stand, but I believe it matters. I believe that once hearts are changed, the world itself can change. And I hold onto the faith that God is the One who softens hearts, just as He did with Pharaoh in the Holy Bible. If He can turn hardened hearts toward compassion, then there is hope that even in the midst of war, humanity can find its way back to peace.

Day 91: Five Steps Closer

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Spontaneity has never been my strength. Sudden plans usually send me into a spiral of panic. But there are exceptions—and family outings are one of them. When I’m with my family, the anxiety fades. I don’t worry about what others think. I just feel safe.

Six months ago, life looked very different. I could barely walk without dragging my leg behind me. Sitting down and standing up from a chair felt like climbing a mountain. I had no strength in my legs, and I often wished for a chair in front of me just to hold onto, in case I fell. Nights were the hardest—I remember crying quietly into my pillow every time I had to turn in bed, praying no one would hear me.

Today, I’m not what most would call “healthy,” but I’m far better than I was. And today, I had a victory.

We went out as a family for lunch. To reach our reserved table, I had to climb five stairs. Five steps—something so small for most people, but for me, it was monumental. Each step sent shooting pain through my legs, but I made it. I leaned on my sister to get down the stairs, but I didn’t break down crying. I got through it. Those five steps were everything.

The meal itself was wonderful. Good food, laughter, and togetherness. I even took pictures of all the dishes we ate. Funny enough, I used to judge people for photographing their food. But now, I see it differently. For me, it’s about capturing a happy memory. I don’t care if the photos are “Instagram-worthy”—I just want them for myself. Since I can’t go on the long walks I used to love, food has become my next best subject for photography. One of these days, I might even start sharing them online.

Leaving all that aside, today was a good day. Yes, I’m in some pain, and yes, I’m exhausted—but nothing I can’t handle. More importantly, I’m determined. I don’t want to go back to my “old self.” I want to become my better self. And with faith, family, and perseverance, I believe I will.

Day 84: Challenges, Courage and Change

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Today felt different. Better. After two long weeks of discomfort and frustration, I woke up with pain that was finally tolerable. My ankle and knee are slowly finding their way back to normal, the swelling has eased, and even my stiff shoulder is beginning to loosen. Yes, there’s still sharp pain when I try to move it, but the range of motion has improved — and that alone feels like progress worth celebrating.

I find myself thankful to God for this healing. I don’t think I did much to bring it about; I only cried out to Him in my pain. Yet, He listened. Sometimes I wonder how Jesus finds the time to care for all His children. I know I can be a handful, but His love never wavers. Even when I am unreasonable, He remains the one who listens. Faith needs nurturing, but His love is constant — and that is my anchor.

Today also brought another small victory: I cooked for my family. It was tiring, but I managed. Cooking has always been my quiet escape, my “me time,” where I lose myself in flavors and creativity. But as I watched my parents eat, I noticed something different. They aren’t the same as before. It feels like the weight of my struggles has spilled over into their lives, leaving them subdued, eating only to fill their hunger. I miss the joy we used to share — even amidst fights and hardships, there was laughter. Now, it feels like the poison of my pain has touched them too. More than anything, I want them to see me happy again. I want to bring light back into their lives.

This year, I’ve decided, will be a year of change. Challenges lie ahead, but I hope to face them with strength and courage. I want to emerge with a lighter soul, one that has found its purpose. Healing isn’t just about the body — it’s about the spirit, the heart, and the bonds we share. And I believe that with faith, love, and perseverance, I can get there.

Day 83:Disconecting from Autopilot

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How do people find something to write about their everyday? I find my life totally uninteresting. I am what people call boring.

Is this what adulthood looks like? A day that start with work and ends with sleep? I am embarrassed about it. I never thought much of it. I have spent months together doing nothing more than just logging on to work and closing my laptop and going to sleep. I never gave it a second thought.

I was missing out on life. I do not get to spend time with my family or my friends. I do not spend time doing things i love – like creating art. Ironically, art became a stress reliever for me rather than something that I spent time with “just because”.

Do others also feel like this? Like their life is losing its purpose. Just going through the motions day after day without any thought to the “why”.

The truth is, everyone needs something to look forward to. A reason to wake up with anticipation instead of resignation. With all the ups and downs in my life I stopped hoping. I was mechanical. . I had no bigger goals or dreams behind it.

Time to reset that part of me. I am going to try making small goals. It is what is suggested you see. Given that I have a history of not staying on course it makes sense. The small wins will encourage me to make larger ones. Hopefully.