My Musings - Santwana Korada

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Tue, 11 Aug 2026 07:03:21 +0000

Who Gave Us the Right to Judge Someone Else’s Love?

Sometimes I wonder why we make something as beautiful and simple as love so unnecessarily complicated.

Why does it matter whether the person you love is a man or a woman?

Why should anyone’s sexual orientation determine whether they deserve respect, kindness, dignity or happiness?

Why have we given ourselves the strange authority to decide which kind of love is “right” and which kind is “wrong”?

At the end of the day, isn’t love—whatever form it takes—still love?

It is that inexplicable feeling that makes our heart race a little faster. It gives us warmth when we are lonely, strength when we are struggling and happiness when the world feels heavy. It makes us want to care for another person, protect them, stand beside them and share our lives with them.

Whether that love exists between a man and a woman, two men, two women, or people whose identities don’t fit neatly into the categories we grew up with, the fundamental human emotion remains remarkably similar.

We love. We care. We need companionship. We want to belong. We want to be loved in return.

So who exactly appointed us judges?

Why should someone else’s love bother us?

If I am straight and someone else is LGBTQ+, what exactly have I lost?

Does their relationship take something away from mine?

Does their happiness diminish mine?

Does their love prevent me from loving the person I choose?

No.

Then why should I be angry about it?

Why should I feel threatened?

Why should I condemn them?

Their life is theirs.

Mine is mine.

Perhaps the healthiest attitude is simply:

“You live your life. I will live mine. And if our paths cross, I will treat you with the same humanity I expect from you.”

It really can be that simple.

We don’t have to understand everything to respect it

One of the excuses people often give for judging LGBTQ+ people is:

“I don’t understand it.”

But does understanding everything have to be a prerequisite for respect?

I don’t understand every culture in the world.

I don’t understand every religion.

I don’t understand why some people enjoy things I could never imagine enjoying.

I don’t understand every decision another human being makes.

Yet I don’t automatically condemn them.

Perhaps we should learn the difference between understanding and respecting.

I may not completely understand someone’s experience.

But I can still say:

“This is your life. You deserve dignity. You deserve to live without being humiliated or hated.”

That doesn’t require me to change who I am.

It simply requires me to be human.

Love isn’t a competition

There is something particularly strange about the way society sometimes treats sexuality—as though everyone has been placed into teams.

Straight.

Gay.

Lesbian.

Bisexual.

Transgender.

And then somehow we are expected to defend our team and criticise everyone else’s.

But love isn’t a cricket match.

There is no scoreboard.

There is no winning side.

Someone else’s love does not make mine less valuable.

If a person finds someone who makes them happy, gives them companionship, supports them through difficult times and gives them a reason to smile, why should I want to take that happiness away?

Isn’t happiness something we should celebrate rather than police?

And what about morality?

Of course, every society has values, traditions and beliefs.

People are entitled to their religious or personal convictions.

But there is an important distinction between living according to your own values and forcing those values upon another person.

You can believe something is not right for you without declaring that another human being is worthless.

You can choose a particular kind of relationship without demanding that everyone else choose the same.

You can disagree without humiliating.

You can have principles without cruelty.

You can hold strong beliefs without turning another person’s existence into an insult.

That, perhaps, is where maturity begins.

Imagine being judged for something that is deeply personal

Before judging anyone, perhaps we should pause for a moment and imagine what it would feel like if our own most personal choices were constantly questioned.

Imagine having to explain whom you love.

Imagine being afraid to introduce your partner to your family.

Imagine wondering whether friends would stop speaking to you if they knew the truth about your life.

Imagine being mocked, excluded or treated as though something was fundamentally wrong with you.

Imagine having to hide an important part of yourself simply to avoid being rejected.

Wouldn’t we want someone to look at us and say:

“You are still a human being. You still deserve kindness.”

Then why deny that same kindness to someone else?

Love gives us something the world desperately needs

Think about what love does to a person.

It can make us more patient.

It can give us courage.

It can make us feel seen.

It can make loneliness bearable.

It can give us someone to call when the day has gone badly.

It can give us someone with whom we can share the most ordinary moments—tea in the morning, a silly joke, a movie, a walk, a quiet evening.

It can make life feel less lonely.

And isn’t that what most of us are ultimately searching for?

Not labels.

Not approval from the entire world.

Just someone who looks at us and says:

“I see you. I know you. And I choose you.”

Why should the gender of that person determine whether their love deserves respect?

Perhaps we should stop making other people’s lives our business

There is an old-fashioned wisdom in simply minding our own business.

If two consenting adults are living their lives, caring for one another and causing no harm, perhaps we don’t need to become investigators, judges and executioners of their relationship.

We don’t need to approve every choice people make.

We don’t need to understand every relationship.

We don’t need to participate in every lifestyle.

But we can practise something far more powerful:

Live and let live.

And perhaps even more importantly:

Love and let love.

What if we judged people by how they love rather than whom they love?

Imagine if our questions were different.

Instead of asking:

“Is he gay?”

“Is she lesbian?”

“What is their orientation?”

What if we asked:

“Are they kind to each other?”

“Do they respect each other?”

“Do they stand by each other?”

“Do they make each other happy?”

“Do they bring out the best in one another?”

Wouldn’t those tell us far more about the quality of a relationship?

Because sexuality tells us whom someone may be attracted to.

It does not tell us whether they are kind.

It does not tell us whether they are trustworthy.

It does not tell us whether they are compassionate.

It does not tell us whether they will stand beside someone when life becomes difficult.

Those are the qualities that make a human being worthy of respect.

So who gave us the authority to judge?

That question keeps coming back to me.

Who gave any of us the authority to degrade another person because their way of expressing love is different from ours?

Who made us the guardians of someone else’s happiness?

Who appointed us the gatekeepers of love?

And if we believe in a world where every human being deserves dignity, perhaps the answer is very simple:

Nobody did.

We appointed ourselves.

And perhaps it is time to resign from that position.

Let people love.

Let people find companionship.

Let people discover who they are.

Let people live honestly.

Let them laugh together, grow together, grow old together and hold each other’s hands when life becomes difficult.

And if their love isn’t our kind of love, that’s okay.

It doesn’t have to be.

We don’t have to live their life.

We only have to make sure we don’t make their life harder simply because it is different from ours.

Because when you strip away the labels, the arguments, the politics, the social conditioning and all the noise surrounding sexuality, there is something very ordinary underneath it all:

A human being wanting to love another human being.

And perhaps that should be enough.

At the end of our lives, I doubt any of us will wish we had spent more time judging whom other people loved.

We will probably wish we had loved more ourselves.

Been kinder.

Been less afraid.

Hugged more.

Forgiven more.

Laughed more.

And allowed other people the freedom to find their own happiness.

So let us stop asking whether someone’s love looks like ours.

Let us ask something much more important:

Is it making them kinder, happier, more fulfilled and more human?

If it is, perhaps we should simply smile and say:

“Good for you. May you be loved, and may you love well.”

Because love, in all its beautiful and bewildering forms, is one of the few things in this world that costs us nothing to give—and can make the enormous burden of being human feel just a little lighter.

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Tue, 11 Aug 2026 06:49:01 +0000

Live and Let Live: The Beautiful Simplicity We Have Forgotten

Sometimes I wonder why we, human beings, make life so complicated.

We are born into this world with nothing except a tiny body, a breath and an extraordinary capacity to experience life. We laugh, we cry, we love, we learn, we make mistakes, we grow old—and one day, we leave. In between these two moments lies the precious thing we call life.

Yet somewhere along the way, we have forgotten how to live it.

We have divided ourselves into religions, castes, nationalities, communities, colours, beliefs, identities and countless labels. We have decided who is “one of us” and who is “different.” We argue over whose God is right, whose culture is superior, whose country is better, whose way of loving is acceptable and whose identity deserves recognition.

And in doing so, we sometimes spend the one life we have been given fighting over differences that will ultimately mean very little when we stand at the end of our journey.

Why can’t we simply let people be?

If someone follows a different religion, how does that diminish my faith?

If someone has no religion at all, why should that threaten mine?

If someone is from another country, why should their nationality make them less human in my eyes?

If someone loves differently from the way I do, why should that change the basic respect I owe them as another human being?

Perhaps the greatest freedom we can give one another is the freedom to be who we are without being forced to justify our existence to everyone else.

We don’t have to agree with everybody.

We don’t even have to understand everybody.

But surely we can learn to respect everybody.

There is a huge difference between acceptance and interference. I don’t have to make another person’s choices my own. I simply need to understand that their life belongs to them, just as mine belongs to me.

That, to me, is the real meaning of “live and let live.”

The labels are ours. Humanity is not.

Think of a newborn child.

Does a baby come into the world carrying a passport?

Does it arrive announcing its religion?

Does it know which nationality it belongs to?

Does it understand caste, politics, social status or the many divisions adults will eventually teach it?

No.

A baby knows only warmth, hunger, comfort, touch and love.

We teach children our divisions long before they are old enough to understand them.

Perhaps we should teach them something else.

Teach them to ask, “Is this person kind?” rather than “What religion are they?”

Teach them to ask, “Do they treat people well?” rather than “Where do they come from?”

Teach them to see a human being before seeing a label.

Because underneath all our differences, we are remarkably alike.

We all want to be loved.

We all want to matter.

We all experience loneliness, fear, hope, disappointment and joy.

We all grow older.

And every single one of us eventually discovers that time was far more precious than we realised.

Imagine another kind of world

Imagine waking up one morning in a world where suspicion was not our first response to someone different.

Imagine meeting a stranger from another country and thinking, “What an interesting person I might get to know.”

Imagine someone entering our home who speaks another language, follows another faith or comes from a completely different culture—and instead of looking for differences, we welcome them.

India has a beautiful expression:

“Atithi Devo Bhava.”

The guest is like God.

What if we extended that thought beyond guests who enter our homes?

What if every new person we encountered was treated as an atithi—a guest temporarily entering the story of our lives?

Some may stay for years.

Some may stay for only a few minutes.

Some may teach us something.

Some may challenge us.

Some may make us laugh.

Some may break our hearts.

Some may simply pass through.

But each person carries a story we know nothing about.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if our first instinct was curiosity rather than judgment?

Imagine a world without the constant need to prove who is right

Imagine a Christian sharing a meal with a Muslim.

A Hindu celebrating with a Sikh.

A Buddhist talking philosophy with an atheist.

A person from India befriending someone from Japan.

A straight person sitting comfortably beside someone from the LGBTQ+ community without either feeling the need to defend or explain their existence.

A young person listening to an elderly person.

An elderly person respecting the dreams of the young.

People disagreeing about politics and still remaining friends.

People having different beliefs and still sharing laughter.

What a beautiful world that would be.

Not a world without differences.

A world where differences don’t become weapons.

Because diversity was never the problem.

Our inability to coexist with diversity is the problem.

Life is far too short for unnecessary hatred

We spend so much of our lives worrying about what other people are doing.

Who they love.

What they believe.

What they wear.

Where they come from.

How they worship.

How they live.

What they say.

And sometimes we become so busy policing other people’s lives that we forget to live our own.

Meanwhile, time keeps moving.

The child grows up.

Parents grow old.

Friends disappear.

Bodies change.

Opportunities pass.

And one day we look back and realise that we spent too many precious years angry about things that were never ours to control.

What if, instead, we used that energy to experience life?

To watch a sunset.

To listen to music.

To laugh until our stomach hurts.

To travel somewhere unfamiliar.

To sit with someone who needs company.

To learn something new.

To forgive someone.

To tell someone, “I love you.”

To hold a hand.

To share a meal.

To welcome a stranger.

To simply sit quietly and appreciate the miracle of being alive.

Perhaps tolerance is not enough

We often talk about tolerance.

But I wonder if we can go one step further.

Tolerance says:

“I don’t like what you are doing, but I’ll allow you to exist.”

Respect says:

“Your life is yours, and I will respect your right to live it.”

And compassion goes even further:

“I may not understand your journey, but I know that you, like me, are trying to find your way through this complicated thing called life.”

That is the world I would like to see.

Not a world where everyone thinks alike.

A world where people can think differently without becoming enemies.

What if every stranger was a potential friend?

There is something magical about strangers.

Every person we have ever loved was once a stranger.

Every friendship began with two people who didn’t know each other.

Every great conversation began with a first hello.

Every relationship, every connection, every beautiful memory started with an encounter between two human beings who happened to cross paths.

So perhaps we should be a little more open to strangers.

Perhaps the person sitting beside us on a train has an extraordinary story.

Perhaps the shopkeeper we barely notice has overcome battles we cannot imagine.

Perhaps the elderly woman sitting alone has spent decades caring for everyone else.

Perhaps the young person we are quick to judge is carrying an invisible burden.

Perhaps the stranger who looks different from us could become someone who changes our life.

We simply don’t know.

And that is the beauty of human connection.

The utopia I dream of

If I could create a utopian world, I wouldn’t make everyone identical.

I would keep all the colours.

All the languages.

All the cultures.

All the religions.

All the nationalities.

All the different ways people love.

All the different ways people think.

I would simply remove the hatred attached to those differences.

I would leave curiosity where prejudice once lived.

Understanding where judgment once lived.

Kindness where cruelty once lived.

Conversation where conflict once lived.

And respect where intolerance once lived.

In that world, a person wouldn’t have to hide who they were to earn a place at the table.

The table would simply be big enough for everyone.

And perhaps when a new person arrived, someone would smile and say:

“Welcome. Come in. You are our guest.”

Atithi Devo Bhava.

We have only one life

Ultimately, I think that is what we keep forgetting.

We have only one life.

Not one life for practising our religion.

Not one life for defending our nationality.

Not one life for judging another person’s identity.

Not one life for proving that our way is better.

We have one life for living.

For loving.

For learning.

For experiencing.

For connecting.

For forgiving.

For growing.

For leaving a little kindness behind us wherever we go.

And perhaps when our journey finally comes to an end, it won’t matter how many arguments we won.

It won’t matter how many people we convinced that we were right.

It won’t matter which labels we wore.

What may matter is much simpler:

Did we love enough?

Did we laugh enough?

Did we make someone feel welcome?

Did we ease someone’s loneliness?

Did we leave people feeling a little better after meeting us?

Perhaps that is the real measure of a life well lived.

So let us stop trying to redesign everyone else’s lives.

Let people worship—or not worship.

Let people love in their own way.

Let people belong to the countries and cultures they were born into.

Let people choose their own sexual identities.

Let people make their own mistakes.

Let us disagree without hating.

Let us question without insulting.

Let us be different without becoming divided.

And above all—

let us live and let live.

Because life is far too precious, far too fragile and far too short to spend it fighting over who has the right to be different.

There is room on this beautiful planet for all of us.

There is room at the table.

There is room in the conversation.

There is room in the human family.

All we need to do is make the table bigger—and welcome the next person who walks through the door.

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Tue, 11 Aug 2026 06:24:28 +0000

The Five Kinds of Strength That Have Carried Me Through Life

When I look back now, I realise something I did not understand when I was younger—strength was never one single thing I could define or hold on to.

At different stages of my life, I thought it meant different things. At one point it was courage. At another, independence. At another, simply the ability to get through a difficult day without falling apart.

Only much later did I begin to see that strength has many faces.

There is emotional strength, physical strength, mental strength, spiritual strength, and financial strength.

I have known all five, though never in equal measure, and never at the same time. Some I built slowly, almost unknowingly. Others life forced on me when I had no choice but to grow into them.

And perhaps that is the truth of it.

We do not become strong because we decide to.

We become strong because life does not always give us another option.

Emotional Strength — The Strength to Feel and Still Carry On

I don’t think I was born emotionally strong.

If anything, I have always been someone who feels deeply. Words stay with me. Affection matters to me. The absence of affection matters too. Perhaps that is why disappointments have sometimes hurt me more than I would have liked them to.

As a young girl in boarding school, in the snowy hills, I experienced a kind of loneliness that I did not have the words to explain then. We grow up in different circumstances and assume that whatever we are experiencing is simply what life is supposed to be.

Then came college.

I was young and hopeful. Like many young women, I had an idea in my mind about what love was supposed to feel like. Looking back, I realise that perhaps I fell in love more with the idea of love than with the reality of knowing and understanding another human being.

That distinction took me a very long time to understand.

I rebelled against my family and chose to marry because I believed I had found the love I was looking for.

And then came the shock of discovering that the dream and the reality were not the same.

The disillusionment did not last for a few months or a few years.

It became part of the landscape of my life.

Fifty years is a very long time to live with the consequences of one decision.

There were days when I wondered how much disappointment a person could absorb before something inside them finally broke.

Apparently, a person can absorb an enormous amount.

But surviving something does not mean it doesn’t hurt.

Over the years, I developed what I call a thick skin.

People sometimes think a thick skin means you don’t care.

That is not true.

Sometimes a thick skin simply means you have cared so much for so long that you finally learn that reacting to every word, every accusation, every provocation and every disappointment will consume whatever peace you have left.

So you learn to step back.

You learn silence.

You learn that not every statement needs an answer.

You learn that not every misunderstanding needs to be corrected.

And perhaps most importantly, you learn that another person’s inability to see your worth does not make you worthless.

That is emotional strength.

It isn’t the absence of tears.

It is being able to cry and still get up.

It is being hurt and still remain capable of loving.

It is being disappointed and still allowing yourself to enjoy something beautiful.

It is knowing that you may not have received all the affection you needed, but that does not mean you were undeserving of it.

I think that has been one of the hardest lessons of my life.

We sometimes spend years wondering why someone didn’t love us in the way we needed.

And eventually, perhaps, we have to stop asking that question.

Some people simply don’t know how to give what we need.

That is about their limitations.

It is not a measurement of our worth.

Physical Strength — The Body That Has Carried Me

When we are young, we rarely think about physical strength.

We simply assume our bodies will cooperate.

We walk without thinking about walking. We climb stairs without thinking about our knees. We travel, work, cook, clean, carry things and stay awake late at night without wondering whether our bodies will allow us to do these things tomorrow.

Then age arrives.

Not dramatically.

It creeps in.

One day you notice that something which was effortless now requires thought.

You sit down and getting up takes a little longer.

A staircase looks different.

A long journey requires more planning.

Your body begins reminding you that it has been with you for decades and it has its own limits.

That is when we understand that physical strength is not about looking young or being athletic.

It is about independence.

It is about being able to move through your day without constantly needing somebody else to do everything for you.

It is about having enough energy to meet a friend, go somewhere you want to go, cook something you enjoy, travel, shop, walk, sit in a garden, play with a child or simply get through an ordinary day comfortably.

We often don’t appreciate these simple freedoms until they become difficult.

Growing older has taught me that the body deserves kindness.

Not punishment.

Not endless comparison with the person we were twenty or thirty years ago.

The body I have today is not the body I had when I was young.

But it is the body that has carried me through every year of my life.

It has carried my joys, my pregnancies, my work, my responsibilities, my sleepless nights, my worries and my tears.

It has carried me this far.

That deserves gratitude.

Physical strength may change with age, but our relationship with our body can become wiser.

We can stop asking, “Why am I not the way I used to be?”

And begin asking,

“How can I take better care of the person I am today?”

That is a different kind of strength.

Mental Strength — Learning to Think When Life Is Difficult

Mental strength is something I learnt through necessity.

Life doesn’t always give us the choices we would have preferred.

Sometimes we have to choose from the choices available to us.

Sometimes there is no perfect answer.

Sometimes there is only the least painful answer.

I learnt to work.

I learnt responsibility.

I learnt to deal with people.

I learnt to solve problems.

I learnt that if something goes wrong, sitting and asking “Why me?” may be understandable, but eventually somebody has to ask, “What do I do now?”

That second question has probably saved me many times.

Work also taught me something about myself.

I wanted to earn my own money.

Not because I wanted a luxurious life.

I wanted independence.

I wanted to know that I could contribute, make decisions and stand on my own feet.

Financial independence gave me confidence, but the process of earning it also strengthened my mind.

It taught me discipline.

It taught me patience.

It taught me that I could learn new things even when I was no longer young.

And that is something I have carried with me.

Mental strength does not mean always being confident.

It does not mean never being confused.

It does not mean always making the right decision.

It means being able to look at a difficult situation and say:

“This is where I am. What can I do from here?”

It means learning from your mistakes without allowing your mistakes to become your identity.

It means understanding that one bad chapter does not necessarily define the entire book.

It also means protecting your mind.

As we grow older, we realise how much mental energy we waste trying to convince people of things they have already decided not to understand.

There comes a point when you have to say:

“I know what I know. I know what I lived. I don’t have to prove my entire life to everybody.”

That, too, is mental strength.

Spiritual Strength — The Part of Us That Keeps Looking for Meaning

Spiritual strength is difficult to explain because it is deeply personal.

For some people it comes from religion.

For others, from prayer, meditation, nature, philosophy or simply a belief that life has some meaning beyond what we can immediately see.

For me, spiritual strength has often been less about having answers and more about continuing despite not having them.

There have been many things in my life I have not understood.

There have been disappointments for which I have never found a satisfying explanation.

There have been moments when I have asked myself why some people receive easily what others spend a lifetime longing for.

Why some relationships bring comfort while others bring pain.

Why people who should understand us sometimes become the very people who hurt us.

I don’t have answers to all these questions.

Perhaps nobody does.

But I have slowly learnt that faith does not always mean believing that everything will turn out exactly as we want.

Sometimes faith is simply saying:

“I don’t understand this, but I will keep going.”

And sometimes spirituality is gratitude.

Not the loud kind.

The quiet kind.

Being grateful for a beautiful morning.

For a favourite song.

For a good book.

For a movie that takes you somewhere else for a few hours.

For the people who have brought genuine happiness into your life.

For children who have given your life meaning.

For a memory that still makes you smile.

For the ability to laugh even after having cried.

As we grow older, gratitude becomes more complicated.

We can be grateful for the good things we received while still acknowledging the things we didn’t receive.

We can love our children and still acknowledge our own loneliness.

We can appreciate the good moments without pretending the difficult ones never happened.

I think that is a mature form of spirituality.

It does not demand that we call everything beautiful.

It simply asks us to notice the beauty that exists alongside the pain.

Financial Strength — The Strength of Independence

Of all the strengths I have developed, financial strength has perhaps had the most practical impact on my life.

I have always believed that a person should, as far as possible, have the ability to earn and manage money.

Because money is not everything.

But the absence of money can affect almost everything.

Money cannot buy love.

It cannot buy genuine affection.

It cannot guarantee health.

It cannot make an unhappy relationship happy.

But financial security can give us something extremely valuable:

choice.

It can mean being able to pay for something important without having to beg.

It can mean being able to make a decision without the fear of becoming completely dependent on somebody else.

It can mean having some security when circumstances change.

It can mean being able to help your children when they need you.

It can mean having the dignity of knowing that you have contributed to your own life.

For me, earning money was never simply about possessions.

It represented independence.

It represented the knowledge that I was not merely somebody’s wife, somebody’s mother or somebody’s responsibility.

I was a person in my own right.

I had skills.

I had experience.

I could work.

I could contribute.

And I could earn.

That mattered to me.

But financial strength also has a lesson on the other side.

We should never spend our entire lives accumulating money and forget to live.

Money is a tool.

It should give us security, not become another source of anxiety.

The real goal is not to have endless money.

It is to have enough control over money that money does not control every decision we make.

These Five Strengths Are Connected

The older I become, the more I realise that these five forms of strength are not separate boxes.

They constantly affect one another.

When money is uncertain, the mind worries.

When the body hurts, emotions become fragile.

When emotions are exhausted, clear thinking becomes difficult.

When the mind feels overwhelmed, spirituality can give us perspective.

When we have some financial independence, we may have greater freedom to look after our health and protect our peace.

Everything is connected.

Take a simple example.

Imagine a woman who has spent years taking care of everyone around her.

She may have neglected her physical health because there was always something more important to do.

She may have become emotionally exhausted because she was constantly giving to others.

She may have had very little financial independence because her family came first.

And yet, perhaps she developed enormous mental strength simply by solving one problem after another.

Later in life, she may finally realise that she cannot continue giving from an empty cup.

She begins taking care of her body.

She begins protecting her emotional space.

She learns to manage her money.

She starts saying no.

She finds something that gives her spiritual peace.

And gradually, she becomes a different person.

Not younger.

Not perfect.

But stronger in a more complete way.

That is what balance can do.

What Happens When One of These Strengths Is Missing?

We can see the imbalance in many people’s lives.

A person may have enormous financial wealth but be desperately lonely.

Another may be highly intelligent but unable to manage emotions.

Someone may be physically fit but mentally exhausted.

Someone may have deep faith but no financial planning.

Another may be emotionally generous but have no boundaries and therefore keep getting hurt.

This is why I no longer believe that success can be measured by one thing.

A large bank balance cannot tell me whether someone is happy.

A successful career cannot tell me whether someone sleeps peacefully at night.

A beautiful home cannot tell me whether the people inside it feel loved.

And a person who has struggled financially cannot automatically be called unsuccessful.

There are invisible achievements too.

Getting through a difficult marriage.

Raising children.

Supporting a family.

Starting again after disappointment.

Working when you were tired.

Keeping your dignity when you felt humiliated.

Forgiving yourself for choices you made when you were younger and didn’t know what you know today.

These are achievements too.

They simply don’t come with certificates.

Age Changes the Meaning of Strength

When we are young, physical strength seems almost unlimited.

We run.

We travel.

We work long hours.

We believe we have plenty of time.

In middle age, mental and financial strength often become more important.

We build careers.

We raise families.

We make financial decisions.

We take responsibility for other people.

Then, gradually, life changes again.

As we grow older, emotional and spiritual strength may become more important.

We begin to understand that peace is more valuable than winning every argument.

That time is more precious than possessions.

That genuine relationships matter more than the number of people who know us.

That we cannot change the past, no matter how many times we replay it.

And perhaps most painfully, we learn that some things we wanted from life may never come.

That realisation can either embitter us or deepen us.

I don’t think acceptance means saying that everything that happened was right.

It simply means saying:

“It happened. I cannot rewrite it. But I can decide how much of the rest of my life I will allow it to occupy.”

That is a difficult lesson.

But perhaps one of the most liberating ones.

The Strength We Don’t Recognise in Ourselves

There are strengths other people may never see.

The person who smiles may be carrying enormous sadness.

The person who appears calm may have spent years learning not to react.

The person who seems independent may have once desperately wished somebody would take care of them.

The person who says “I’m fine” may simply have become very good at surviving.

I think many women especially learn this kind of invisible strength.

We become mothers.

We become wives.

We become daughters.

We become caregivers.

We become workers.

We become problem-solvers.

And somewhere along the way, we sometimes forget that underneath all these roles is an individual who also has needs.

Someone who wants to be heard.

Someone who wants affection.

Someone who wants to feel important to somebody.

Someone who wants to be appreciated without having to earn it every day.

Someone who sometimes wants nothing more complicated than a hug.

There is no shame in wanting that.

Needing affection does not make us weak.

Wanting companionship does not make us needy.

Wanting respect does not make us demanding.

And wanting peace does not mean we have given up.

Sometimes it means we have finally understood its value.

What I Know Now

If I could speak to the younger woman I once was, I don’t know whether I would tell her not to make the choices she made.

It is easy to judge our younger selves from the safety of hindsight.

She did not know what I know now.

She had hopes.

She had dreams.

She believed.

She made choices with the knowledge and emotions she had at that time.

I would perhaps tell her something gentler.

I would tell her:

“Don’t confuse being loved with the idea of being loved.”

“Don’t lose yourself completely in another person.”

“Earn if you can. Keep something that belongs only to you.”

“Look after your body. You will need it for many years.”

“Protect your mind. Not every opinion deserves space inside it.”

“Keep something inside yourself that belongs only to you—your faith, your dreams, your music, your books, your thoughts.”

“And when life disappoints you, don’t conclude that you are a disappointment.”

Most importantly, I would tell her that she will survive more than she thinks she can.

She will not always feel strong.

She will sometimes be frightened.

She will sometimes be lonely.

She will sometimes wonder whether all the effort was worth it.

But she will keep going.

And one day she will look back and realise that the woman she became was built, piece by piece, from every experience she once thought would break her.

Perhaps This Is What Strength Really Is

Today, I don’t measure strength in the way I once did.

Strength is not always fighting.

Sometimes strength is walking away.

Sometimes it is staying.

Sometimes it is speaking.

Sometimes it is remaining silent.

Sometimes it is forgiving.

Sometimes it is simply refusing to let somebody else’s behaviour turn you into someone you don’t want to be.

Strength is not 'never' needing anybody.

It is knowing that you can need love and still have dignity.

It is knowing that you can be vulnerable and still be strong.

It is knowing that you can be tired and still continue.

It is knowing that you can regret something without allowing regret to consume the rest of your life.

And perhaps the greatest strength is the ability to accept that life was not exactly what you thought it would be—and still find something worth appreciating in it.

A song.

A book.

A movie.

A cup of tea.

A child’s laughter.

A memory.

A beautiful evening.

A quiet morning.

A conversation.

A little bit of laughter after a difficult day.

These things may look insignificant from the outside.

But life is actually made of such moments.

We spend years waiting for the big happiness—the perfect relationship, the perfect family, the perfect home, the perfect financial security, the perfect future.

And then, somewhere along the way, we discover that happiness was often hiding in much smaller places.

A moment of peace.

A moment of connection.

A moment when nobody is demanding anything from us.

A moment when we can simply be ourselves.

The Wealth We Carry Inside

Perhaps, after everything, these five kinds of strength are really five kinds of wealth.

Emotional wealth is being able to love without losing yourself.

Physical wealth is having a body that allows you to participate in your own life.

Mental wealth is being able to think, learn, adapt and protect your peace.

Spiritual wealth is having something inside you that gives life meaning when circumstances become difficult.

Financial wealth is having enough independence to make choices without living in constant fear.

And none of them is permanent.

We may gain some and lose some.

We may be physically strong when we are young and spiritually stronger when we are old.

We may have financial security at one stage and uncertainty at another.

We may be emotionally fragile in our twenties and incredibly resilient in our seventies.

That is life.

We are constantly changing.

Perhaps the real wisdom is learning to recognise which part of ourselves needs attention at each stage.

If the body is tired, care for it.

If the mind is overwhelmed, give it rest.

If the heart is hurting, don’t shame it for feeling.

If finances are uncertain, plan carefully.

If the spirit feels empty, search for meaning.

We cannot control everything that happens to us.

But we can sometimes choose what we do with what happens to us.

And Looking Back…

When I look back at the girl in the snowy hills, the young woman who went to college with dreams in her eyes, the woman who believed she had found love, the wife who discovered that life was going to be very different from what she imagined, the mother who fiercely protected her three beautiful daughters, the working woman who wanted financial independence, and the older woman I am today—I see one common thread.

She kept going.

Sometimes happily.

Sometimes angrily.

Sometimes hopefully.

Sometimes with tears.

Sometimes simply out of stubbornness.

But she kept going.

I don’t think strength means that we emerge from life without scars.

Perhaps the scars are proof that we lived.

We loved.

We hoped.

We made mistakes.

We endured.

We lost.

We learnt.

We began again.

And perhaps the greatest achievement is not that we managed to create the life we once dreamed of.

Sometimes the greatest achievement is that despite everything life did not give us, we still managed to become someone.

Someone who can look back without pretending.

Someone who can acknowledge the pain without allowing it to erase the good.

Someone who can say, “Yes, there were things I wished had been different.”

And in the same breath say,

“But there were also things for which I am grateful.”

That, perhaps, is where emotional, physical, mental, spiritual and financial strength finally come together.

Not in perfection.

Not in having everything.

But in reaching a point where we can look at our complicated, imperfect, sometimes painful life and still say:

“This was my life. I lived it. I survived it. I learnt from it. And whatever time remains, I would like to live it as myself.”

Maybe that is the strongest thing any of us can finally give ourselves.

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Tue, 11 Aug 2026 05:58:46 +0000

The Five Strengths We Carry Within Us

We often measure a person by what we can see.

We notice their appearance, their possessions, their position in society, their bank balance, their achievements. We say someone is strong because they are financially secure, successful because they have a good career, or fortunate because they have a comfortable life.

But human strength is much more complicated than that.

There are different kinds of wealth we carry within us—emotional, physical, mental, spiritual and financial. Each has its own strength and purpose. And the interesting thing is that one cannot completely replace another.

A person may have money but no peace.

Another may have intelligence but no emotional warmth.

Someone may be physically strong but mentally exhausted.

Someone else may have very little materially but possess an extraordinary inner strength.

A truly fulfilling life is not about becoming perfect in all five areas. It is about understanding them, developing them as much as we can, and knowing how they influence one another.

1. Emotional Strength — The Strength to Feel Without Being Destroyed by What We Feel

Emotional strength is often misunderstood.

We sometimes think a strong person is someone who never cries, never gets hurt and never shows vulnerability. I believe the opposite can be true.

A strong emotional person is someone who can feel deeply without allowing every feeling to control their life.

They can be hurt and still continue.

They can love without completely losing themselves.

They can forgive without necessarily forgetting.

They can say “I am hurt” without feeling ashamed of it.

Emotional strength gives us the ability to handle disappointment, rejection, loneliness, anger, grief and uncertainty.

Imagine someone receiving a harsh comment from a person they love. An emotionally fragile response might be to immediately retaliate, withdraw completely or spend days thinking, “Maybe I am worthless.”

An emotionally stronger response might be:

“That hurt me. I don’t agree with what was said. But I know that someone’s opinion does not determine my entire worth.”

That small difference can change a life.

Its impact on us

Our emotional state affects almost everything—our relationships, decisions, confidence, work and even the way we see ourselves.

When we are emotionally secure, we don’t constantly need approval from others.

We can enjoy affection without becoming dependent on it.

We can walk away from unhealthy situations without believing that leaving means we have failed.

And perhaps most importantly, emotional strength teaches us that being sensitive is not the same as being weak.

Sometimes the person who has cried the most is also the person who has survived the most.

⸻

2. Physical Strength — The Body as the Home We Live In

Our physical strength is more than muscles, fitness or appearance.

It is our body’s ability to carry us through everyday life.

Being physically strong means having enough health, mobility, stamina and energy to participate in our own lives.

Think about something as ordinary as climbing stairs, carrying groceries, travelling, cooking, playing with grandchildren or simply getting out of bed without assistance.

We often appreciate these abilities only when they become difficult.

A young person may take walking for granted. An older person may see walking independently as a precious privilege.

Physical health therefore affects something much deeper than the body—it affects independence.

When our body functions well, we have greater freedom to make choices.

When physical health declines, our world can gradually become smaller.

That is why taking care of the body is not vanity. It is an investment in independence.

Its impact on us

Physical wellbeing influences our mood, confidence, energy and social life.

A person who feels physically capable is often more willing to go out, meet people, travel, learn something new or take on challenges.

And physical strength doesn’t have to mean being athletic.

Sometimes physical strength simply means:

“My body may not be what it once was, but I will take care of the body I have today.”

That attitude itself is a form of strength.

⸻

3. Mental Strength — The Ability to Think Clearly When Life Becomes Difficult

Mental strength is our ability to think, learn, adapt, analyse situations and make decisions—even when emotions are running high.

Life rarely gives us perfect circumstances.

We make mistakes. People disappoint us. Plans fail. Money gets tight. Relationships change. Our expectations don’t always match reality.

Mental strength helps us ask:

What can I control?

What can I change?

What must I accept?

What can I learn from this?

Consider someone who loses a job.

One person may think:

“My career is over. I am a failure.”

Another may think:

“This is frightening, but what are my options? What skills do I have? What can I learn? Where can I try next?”

The situation is the same.

The difference is the mind’s response to it.

Mental strength doesn’t mean always being positive. Sometimes “positive thinking” can be unrealistic.

Mental strength is being able to look at reality honestly without allowing reality to destroy your ability to hope or act.

Its impact on us

Our thoughts become the stories through which we experience our lives.

If we repeatedly tell ourselves:

“I am useless.”

we eventually begin behaving as though it is true.

If we tell ourselves:

“I have made mistakes, but I am still capable of learning,”

we create room for growth.

This is why protecting our mental space is so important.

Not every argument deserves our attention.

Not every criticism deserves an answer.

Not every person’s opinion deserves a permanent place in our mind.

Sometimes mental strength is simply knowing what not to carry.

⸻

4. Spiritual Strength — The Quiet Strength That Gives Meaning to Life

Spiritual strength is perhaps the most difficult to define because it is deeply personal.

It does not necessarily mean religion.

For one person, spirituality may be faith in God.

For another, it may be meditation, nature, prayer, gratitude or a belief that life has meaning beyond material success.

For someone else, it may simply be the quiet feeling that despite everything they have endured, there is still something worth living for.

Spiritual strength becomes particularly important when life gives us questions that have no easy answers.

Why did this happen?

Why did someone leave?

Why did I suffer?

Why didn’t life turn out the way I imagined?

There are moments when intelligence cannot provide the answer and money cannot solve the problem.

That is where inner faith, acceptance and meaning can become powerful sources of strength.

Its impact on us

Spiritual strength can give us perspective.

It can help us understand that a difficult chapter is not necessarily the entire story.

A person who has experienced loss may eventually say:

“I cannot change what happened. But I can decide what I will do with the years I have left.”

That is spiritual strength.

It is the ability to find some meaning even after life has taken away some of our expectations.

Sometimes spirituality is not about asking for a perfect life.

It is about developing the strength to say:

“This is the life I have been given. Let me find something beautiful within it.”

⸻

5. Financial Strength — The Power of Choice and Independence

Money is often treated as something shallow compared with emotional or spiritual qualities.

But financial strength matters enormously.

Money cannot buy love.

It cannot guarantee health.

It cannot purchase genuine happiness.

But financial security can provide something extremely valuable:

choice.

A financially independent person may be able to say:

“I don’t have to remain in this job because I am desperate.”

“I can afford my medical treatment.”

“I can help my child when necessary.”

“I can live independently.”

“I can say no without fearing that I will have nothing to fall back on.”

That is the power of financial independence.

Money becomes particularly important as we grow older because earning opportunities may decrease while healthcare and living expenses can increase.

Its impact on us

Financial security can reduce fear.

It gives us a safety net when life unexpectedly changes.

But there is another side to financial strength.

Money can become a trap if we spend our entire lives pursuing it and forget why we wanted it in the first place.

We may work endlessly to become financially secure, only to discover that we sacrificed our relationships, health, peace and time along the way.

So financial strength is not simply about having more money.

It is about having enough control over money that money does not control every decision we make.

⸻

The Real Power Lies in the Combination

The five strengths don’t exist in separate compartments.

They constantly influence one another.

A financial crisis can affect our mental health.

Poor physical health can affect our emotional wellbeing.

Emotional pain can disturb our ability to think clearly.

Spiritual faith can help us survive emotional suffering.

Financial independence can give us the freedom to protect our mental and emotional wellbeing.

And mental strength can help us make wiser financial decisions.

Imagine a woman who has spent years caring for her family.

She may not have accumulated enormous wealth, but she has developed extraordinary emotional resilience.

When circumstances change, her mental strength helps her adapt.

Her spiritual beliefs give her hope.

Her financial planning gives her some independence.

And taking care of her physical health allows her to continue living life on her own terms.

None of these strengths alone makes her powerful.

Together, they do.

⸻

What Happens When One Strength Is Missing?

Sometimes imbalance becomes more obvious than strength.

A person may be financially successful but emotionally lonely.

Someone may be physically healthy but mentally anxious.

Another may be highly intelligent but unable to maintain relationships.

Someone may have deep spiritual faith but neglect practical financial responsibilities.

And someone may be financially comfortable yet physically and emotionally exhausted because they have spent their entire life working.

This teaches us something important:

A good life is not necessarily a life in which we have everything. It is a life in which we learn to balance what we have.

⸻

Our Strengths Also Change With Age

Perhaps the most beautiful thing about these five qualities is that they don’t remain constant throughout life.

When we are young, physical strength may dominate.

We run, travel, work long hours and believe we have unlimited time.

In middle age, mental and financial strength may become more important as careers, responsibilities and families take centre stage.

As we grow older, emotional and spiritual strength may become increasingly valuable.

We begin to understand that peace is worth more than proving a point.

Time becomes more precious than possessions.

A few genuine relationships may matter more than a hundred acquaintances.

And we may finally understand something we couldn’t understand when we were young:

Life is not measured only by what we achieved. It is also measured by what we endured, what we learned, whom we touched and how much of ourselves we managed to keep along the way.

⸻

The Greatest Strength of All

Perhaps the greatest strength is not emotional, physical, mental, spiritual or financial strength by itself.

Perhaps it is self-awareness—knowing which strength we possess, which one needs attention and which battles are no longer worth fighting.

A person can lose money and rebuild.

A person can become physically weaker and still remain mentally and spiritually strong.

A person can experience heartbreak and eventually love again.

A person can fail professionally and begin again.

And sometimes a person can reach a stage in life where there is very little left to prove to anyone.

At that point, strength may simply mean waking up each morning and saying:

“I have survived everything that brought me here. I may not have the life I once imagined, but I am still here. And there are still small moments worth noticing.”

A cup of tea.

A favourite song.

A beautiful sunset.

A conversation that makes us smile.

A book.

A memory.

A kind word.

A little laughter.

These things may look insignificant from the outside.

But sometimes, after a lifetime of struggles, the ability to appreciate small joys is itself a form of enormous strength.

Because ultimately, our greatest wealth is not what we own.

It is what remains within us after life has taken us through everything.

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Sat, 08 Aug 2026 13:51:33 +0000

The Many Languages of Love — And What a Lifetime Taught Me About Them

For most of my life, I thought love was something we simply understood.

Perhaps that was my first mistake.

I believed that if two people loved each other, they would naturally know what the other needed. I thought love would make us patient, considerate and kind. I thought it would teach us how to reach across our differences.

Life taught me otherwise.

Sometimes two people can live under the same roof for years and still speak completely different languages of love.

I came to understand this much later than I wish I had.

There are, apparently, five recognised love languages — words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, gifts and physical touch. The idea is simple: people give and receive love differently.

And when I look back at my own life, I can see how much misunderstanding can happen when two people are speaking different languages without even realising it.

Words Can Be Love — And Words Can Also Wound

Some people need words.

They need to hear, “I love you,” “I am proud of you,” “Thank you,” “You matter to me.”

I understand that now.

Words can be tiny things, but they can stay with us for years.

So can the absence of them.

A person can spend decades doing things for a family and still quietly wonder, Did anybody ever notice? Did anybody ever appreciate what I gave?

And then there are words of another kind — criticism, sarcasm, insults, dismissive remarks, words spoken in anger and sometimes repeated so often that they begin to feel like a person’s identity.

I have learned that words are never “just words.”

They can build a person.

They can break one.

And once spoken, some of them cannot be completely taken back.

Sometimes Love Looks Like Doing

There are people who don’t say much but show their love by doing things.

They cook.

They work.

They provide.

They solve problems.

They remember what everyone else has forgotten.

For years, many of us simply get on with what needs to be done. We don’t necessarily call it love. It is just what we do.

But there is a danger in this kind of love.

When something is done repeatedly for years, people can stop seeing it as an act of love and start seeing it as an obligation.

That is when gratitude slowly disappears.

And when gratitude disappears, resentment often walks quietly in through the back door.

Perhaps one of the simplest ways of keeping love alive is to notice.

To say:

“I know what you do.”

“Thank you.”

“I couldn’t have managed without you.”

Those words cost nothing.

Yet they can mean everything.

Time Is Perhaps the Most Precious Gift

Looking back, I think quality time is one of the most misunderstood forms of love.

Being in the same house is not necessarily spending time together.

Sitting beside someone while each person is absorbed in a different world is not necessarily closeness.

Sometimes what we really want is someone’s undivided attention.

A conversation.

A cup of tea together.

A walk.

A shared laugh.

Someone asking, “How are you?” and actually waiting for the answer.

It doesn’t have to be grand.

Fifteen genuine minutes can sometimes mean more than an expensive holiday.

Because what we are really asking for is not time.

It is presence.

Gifts Are About Being Remembered

I have never believed that love can be measured by the price of a gift.

A small thing chosen because someone remembered what you like can be worth much more than something expensive bought without thought.

A favourite sweet.

A book.

A flower.

A photograph.

Something that says, I saw this and thought of you.

That is what makes a gift precious.

But gifts cannot substitute for kindness.

Nor can they erase disrespect.

There are some wounds that no material thing can cover.

And Then There Is Touch

Perhaps the most basic human language of all is touch.

A hug.

A hand held.

A reassuring touch on the shoulder.

A kiss on the forehead.

Sometimes we don’t need advice. We don’t need explanations. We don’t need someone to solve anything.

We simply need to feel that somebody is there.

And perhaps that is why the absence of affection can leave such a strange emptiness.

You can be surrounded by people and still feel untouched.

You can be needed and still not feel cherished.

You can have a family and still long for the simple comfort of being held.

I have come to understand that wanting affection does not make a person needy or weak.

It makes them human.

The Problem Is That We Often Give the Love We Know How to Give

This may be the biggest lesson of all.

One person may show love by working hard and providing.

Another may need words.

One may want conversation.

Another may show affection by doing things.

One may crave physical closeness.

Another may believe that giving space is a sign of love.

And both may sincerely believe they are trying.

That is where relationships can become painfully complicated.

We keep giving what we would like to receive.

And then wonder why the other person still feels unloved.

Perhaps the answer is to learn another language.

Not abandon our own.

Just learn theirs.

If someone needs appreciation, give it.

If they need time, make time.

If they value small gestures, remember them.

If they need affection, offer it — when it is welcome.

And, importantly, tell them what you need too.

Don’t make people guess.

Say:

“I need you to listen to me.”

“I would like us to spend some time together.”

“I need appreciation sometimes.”

“I miss affection.”

“I need you to speak to me with respect.”

There is no shame in asking for what makes us feel loved.

But There Is a Limit to What Love Languages Can Fix

This is something I wish people talked about more.

Love languages are useful when two people genuinely care about each other but express affection differently.

They cannot solve everything.

They cannot make a disrespectful person respectful.

They cannot turn cruelty into kindness.

They cannot make someone care simply because we have finally explained our needs perfectly.

And they cannot require one person to keep giving endlessly while receiving very little in return.

There comes a point when understanding another person should not mean abandoning ourselves.

Sometimes the healthiest workaround is not to keep trying to change someone.

It is to change our expectations.

To stop waiting for a particular kind of affection from someone who has shown, repeatedly, that they are unlikely to give it.

That can be a painful realisation.

But sometimes accepting reality is less painful than spending another twenty years arguing with it.

Perhaps There Is Another Love Language — Respect

If I could add another language to the list, I would call it respect.

Because what good are words of affection if they are followed by humiliation?

What good are gifts if there is no consideration?

What good is spending time together if one person constantly makes the other feel small?

Respect is what gives the other love languages their meaning.

It says:

I may disagree with you, but I will not demean you.

I may be angry, but I will not deliberately hurt you.

I know you are a separate human being with your own thoughts, feelings and dignity.

That, to me, is love in its most mature form.

And Perhaps There Is One More — Repair

No relationship is perfect.

People lose their tempers.

They misunderstand.

They forget.

They hurt each other.

The difference is what happens afterwards.

Can someone say, “I was wrong”?

Can they say, “I hurt you”?

Can they apologise without immediately finding someone else to blame?

More importantly, can they change their behaviour?

Because an apology without change eventually becomes another form of repetition.

Real love is not the absence of mistakes.

It is the willingness to repair the damage.

What I Know Now

After a lifetime of relationships, I no longer believe that love is simply a feeling.

Feelings come and go.

Love, when it is healthy, is also behaviour.

It is how we speak to each other.

How we listen.

How we disagree.

How we touch.

How we notice.

How we forgive.

How we apologise.

How we allow another person to remain themselves.

And perhaps most importantly, how we make them feel when nobody else is watching.

I have learned that we should not spend our entire lives trying to convince someone to love us in the way we need.

Sometimes we need to explain.

Sometimes we need to compromise.

Sometimes we need to learn another person’s language.

But we must also listen to our own.

Because our needs matter too.

And if there is one thing I would tell anyone beginning a relationship today, it would be this:

Don’t only ask, “Does this person love me?”

Ask:

“How do they make me feel?”

Do I feel safe?

Do I feel respected?

Do I feel heard?

Can I be myself?

Can I make a mistake without being made to feel worthless?

Can I grow without being controlled?

Can I speak without being afraid?

Can I receive affection without having to beg for it?

Because love is not merely about having someone beside you.

It is about feeling that, beside that person, you are still allowed to be fully human.

And perhaps that is the language we all understand, regardless of which love language we speak.

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Sat, 08 Aug 2026 13:38:28 +0000

Love Has Many Languages — And Sometimes We Are Speaking the Wrong One

We all want to be loved. That much is simple.

What is not simple is understanding what love looks like to another person.

One person may say, “I love you” every day. Another may never say those words but will quietly make sure you have eaten, reached home safely, or have your favourite tea waiting for you. Someone may want to hold your hand, while someone else believes that giving you space is the greatest sign of respect.

And this is where relationships sometimes go wrong.

We may be loved, yet still feel unloved.

The idea of love languages, popularised by Gary Chapman, suggests that people tend to give and receive love in different ways. The five commonly described are words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, gifts, and physical touch.

But I think there is something important missing from the way we usually talk about them.

Love languages are not rigid boxes. They are clues.

Words of Affirmation

Some people need to hear appreciation.

“I am proud of you.”

“Thank you.”

“You look lovely.”

“I missed you.”

“I am here for you.”

These may seem like small sentences to the person saying them, but to someone who receives love through words, they can mean everything.

The opposite is also true. Constant criticism, sarcasm, humiliation or dismissive remarks can slowly erode a person’s sense of being valued.

The workaround is simple: say the good things that you normally assume the other person already knows.

We often think, Of course they know I love them.

Perhaps they don’t.

Quality Time

For some people, love means being present.

Not necessarily an expensive dinner or a holiday. Sometimes it is simply sitting together, drinking tea, watching a film, taking a walk, or talking without constantly looking at a phone.

Quality time is not merely physical proximity. Two people can sit in the same room for hours and still feel completely alone.

The workaround?

Create small islands of undivided attention.

Even fifteen minutes of genuine conversation can sometimes do more for a relationship than an entire day spent together without connection.

Acts of Service

Some people express love by doing.

They cook. They remember appointments. They fix things. They run errands. They make sure everyone has what they need.

Their way of saying “I love you” may be, Have you eaten?

But there is a danger here.

Acts of service can become invisible when they are repeated for years. What was once appreciated becomes an expectation.

And when the work is never acknowledged, resentment quietly takes its place.

The workaround is recognition.

A simple “I noticed what you did. Thank you” can prevent a great deal of emotional wear and tear.

And equally important: don’t confuse helping someone with controlling them.

Love should lighten another person’s life, not make them feel indebted.

Gifts

For some, receiving a thoughtful gift is deeply meaningful.

It isn’t necessarily about money.

It may be a book someone remembered you wanted, a flower picked on the way home, a favourite sweet, or even a photograph kept because it reminded someone of you.

The meaning is in the thought.

But gifts become meaningless when they are used to compensate for neglect, disrespect or emotional absence.

A diamond cannot repair what an apology and changed behaviour could.

The workaround is to make gifts personal rather than expensive.

Ask yourself, What would make this person feel remembered?

That is where the real gift lies.

Physical Touch

For some people, affection is communicated through touch.

A hug.

A hand held while walking.

A kiss on the forehead.

A reassuring touch on the shoulder.

Physical affection can communicate something words sometimes cannot: You are safe with me. You matter to me. I am here.

But physical touch has to be mutual and respectful. Nobody owes another person physical affection simply because they are in a relationship.

The workaround is communication.

Ask.

“Can I hug you?”

“Would you like me to sit beside you?”

Sometimes the smallest question creates the greatest sense of safety.

The Real Problem: We Often Give Love the Way We Want to Receive It

This, perhaps, is where many relationships stumble.

A person who values acts of service may spend the whole day doing things for their partner and wonder why the partner still complains.

The partner may be thinking, I don’t need you to do things for me. I need you to talk to me.

One gives.

The other waits.

Both feel they are trying.

Both feel unappreciated.

Neither understands what the other is asking for.

It is almost as if they are speaking two different languages.

So What Can We Do?

Perhaps the answer is not to find one perfect love language.

Perhaps the answer is to become bilingual in love.

Learn what makes the other person feel valued, even if it isn’t the way you naturally express affection.

And tell them what makes you feel valued.

Don’t expect people to read minds.

Instead of saying:

“You don’t care about me.”

Try:

“I feel much closer to you when we spend some uninterrupted time together.”

Instead of:

“You never appreciate anything I do.”

Try:

“When you acknowledge what I do, it makes me feel valued.”

Instead of:

“You never touch me.”

Try:

“I miss physical affection. A hug sometimes would mean a lot to me.”

These changes may sound insignificant, but they remove accusation from the conversation and replace it with information.

And What If the Other Person Doesn’t Change?

This is where love languages have their limits.

Knowing someone’s love language does not mean we can make them loving.

Understanding someone does not require us to tolerate disrespect.

Communication cannot repair a relationship if only one person is willing to communicate.

Sometimes the workaround is not changing the other person.

Sometimes it is changing what we expect from them.

We can stop waiting for a particular kind of love from someone who has repeatedly shown that they cannot or will not give it.

That doesn’t mean becoming bitter.

It means becoming realistic.

We can appreciate what someone is capable of giving without pretending that it is everything we need.

And sometimes we need to find emotional nourishment elsewhere — through friendships, children, siblings, community, meaningful work, hobbies, books, music, nature, spirituality, or simply through developing a kinder relationship with ourselves.

Because no single relationship should be expected to provide every form of emotional fulfilment.

Perhaps There Is a Sixth Love Language

I sometimes think there should be a sixth love language:

Respect.

Because without respect, the other five can become hollow.

You can give someone gifts and still belittle them.

You can perform acts of service and still control them.

You can spend hours together and still make them feel lonely.

You can say “I love you” and still hurt them repeatedly.

Real love needs something underneath all the languages:

I see you.

I hear you.

I value you.

I will not deliberately make you feel small.

And perhaps another important language is repair.

We are all going to get things wrong. We will say the wrong words, forget important dates, lose patience and misunderstand each other.

Healthy elationships are not those without mistakes.

They are relationships where someone can say:

“I was wrong.”

“I hurt you.”

“I am sorry.”

“I will try to do better.”

And then actually do better.

Love Is Not Only About Being Loved

Perhaps the greatest lesson is that love is not merely about asking:

“Does this person love me?”

It is also asking:

“How does this person experience my love?”

And equally:

“How do I experience theirs?”

Sometimes the love is there, but it is hidden behind different languages.

Sometimes we need to translate.

Sometimes we need to teach each other.

Sometimes we need to compromise.

And sometimes, despite all our efforts, we discover that what we call love is not giving us the kindness, respect or emotional safety that we need.

That discovery can be painful.

But it can also be liberating.

Because understanding love languages should never be about teaching ourselves to accept crumbs simply because they are being offered in someone’s preferred language.

It should be about learning to give love more thoughtfully, receive it more consciously, communicate our needs more clearly, and recognise the difference between love that is imperfect and love that is consistently harmful.

After all, love is not a language we learn once.

It is a conversation we keep having throughout our lives.

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Fri, 07 Aug 2026 12:46:13 +0000

The Memories We Carry

Memories are strange things.

Some of them stay with us for years without making any noise. A particular smell suddenly reminds us of our childhood. An old song takes us back to a place we haven't thought about in years. Sometimes, even a simple road, a photograph, or someone's voice can open a door to the past.

And suddenly, we are there again.

We may have grown older, moved to another city, met new people, and built a completely different life, but some part of us is still sitting in that old classroom, standing at that railway station, laughing with an old friend, or saying goodbye to someone we loved.

That is the power of memories.

Memories are more than records of things that happened to us. In many ways, they become part of who we are. They shape the way we see people, relationships, success, failure, love, and even ourselves.

Some memories give us strength.

Think about a difficult period in your life that you somehow managed to get through. Years later, when another difficult situation comes along, you may remember that time and think, “I survived that. I can survive this too.”

That memory becomes a quiet source of courage.

The same thing happens with happy memories. A childhood afternoon spent playing with friends, a family celebration, a teacher who believed in us, our first achievement, or even a simple conversation with someone we loved can remain with us long after the moment itself has disappeared.

We cannot go back to those moments, but we can revisit them in our minds.

Sometimes that is enough to make a difficult day feel a little lighter.

But memories are not always kind.

Some memories hurt.

A broken friendship. A failed relationship. A mistake we wish we could undo. The loss of someone we loved. Words someone said to us that we never forgot. A missed opportunity. A moment when we disappointed ourselves.

The strange thing about painful memories is that the event may have lasted only a few minutes, but our mind can replay it for years.

We remember what was said.

We remember what we should have said.

We imagine what might have happened if we had made a different choice.

And sometimes we punish ourselves with the same memory again and again.

This is where memories can become a burden.

There are people who spend years living in a moment that has already ended. They carry an old betrayal into every new relationship. They carry an old failure into every new opportunity. They allow something that happened five or ten years ago to decide what they believe about themselves today.

A person who was once rejected may start believing they are not worthy of love.

Someone who failed an exam may begin believing they are not intelligent.

Someone who was betrayed may decide that nobody can ever be trusted.

But a memory is not always the truth.

It is our recollection of the truth, shaped by our emotions, our age, and the way we understood things at that time.

We often remember how something made us feel more strongly than what actually happened.

That is why two people can experience the same event and remember it completely differently.

This is also why we should be careful about allowing our memories to control our present.

The past deserves to be remembered, but it does not always deserve to be obeyed.

There is something else we often forget: we are allowed to change the meaning of our memories.

Imagine someone who failed badly at something they cared about. For years, they might think of that failure as proof that they were not good enough. But later, they may look back and realize that failure taught them discipline, patience, or humility.

The event didn't change.

The meaning of it did.

What once felt like the end of the world may eventually become one of the experiences that shaped them into a stronger person.

This doesn't mean that we should pretend painful things didn't happen. Healing is not about erasing the past or forcing ourselves to call everything a “lesson.”

Some things genuinely hurt.

Some losses never completely stop hurting.

Sometimes we simply learn how to carry them differently.

And perhaps that is what growing older really means—not forgetting the past, but learning where to place it.

We don't have to hold onto every memory.

Some memories deserve a place in our hearts because they remind us of people we loved, places we belonged, or moments when we felt truly alive.

Other memories can be acknowledged and then released.

Letting go doesn't mean saying, “It didn't matter.”

Sometimes letting go means saying, “It mattered, but it doesn't have to control me anymore.”

That distinction can change a person's life.

We can keep the lesson without keeping the pain.

We can remember the person without wishing they were still in our lives.

We can accept that something ended without spending the rest of our lives asking why.

We can forgive someone without inviting them back into our lives.

And perhaps most importantly, we can forgive ourselves.

There are things we did when we were younger that we would never do today. But that is partly because we are no longer the person we were then.

We judge our younger selves with the knowledge we have today.

That's not always fair.

The person you were five years ago was making decisions with the understanding, maturity, and circumstances they had at the time. Maybe they made mistakes. Maybe they chose badly. But perhaps they were simply trying to get through life with the tools they had.

We should be able to look back at that person with some compassion.

After all, we are all carrying memories.

Some make us smile.

Some make us angry.

Some make us cry when nobody is watching.

Some remind us how far we've come.

And some remind us of how much we still need to heal.

But we get to decide what we carry forward.

Not every memory needs to become part of our identity. Not every painful experience needs to become a permanent wound. Not every chapter of our life needs to be reread.

The past has already happened.

We cannot change the people we were, the choices we made, or the things that happened to us.

But we can decide what those memories mean to the person we are becoming.

Maybe that is the real gift of memories.

They allow us to look back without necessarily going back.

They remind us where we came from, but they don't have to decide where we're going.

So keep the memories that make you grateful.

Keep the ones that remind you that you were loved.

Keep the ones that give you courage.

Keep the lessons.

And when you're ready, let go of the memories that only keep reopening wounds that have already begun to heal.

You don't have to forget your past to move forward.

Sometimes moving forward simply means carrying the right memories with you—and finally putting down the ones that were never meant to be carried forever.

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Fri, 07 Aug 2026 12:42:39 +0000

Criticism Is Easy, But Contribution Is Hard

We live in a world where it has become very easy to criticize. We see something we don't like, and within seconds, we have an opinion about it. We criticize politicians, teachers, colleagues, parents, friends, businesses, and even complete strangers on social media. Sometimes the criticism is justified, but often it is much easier to point out a problem than to become part of the solution.

That is why the saying “Criticism is easy, but contribution is hard” has so much truth in it.

When we criticize something, we usually look at it from the outside. We see the mistakes, the delays, the failures, or the things that could have been done better. But contribution requires us to step inside the situation. It means accepting responsibility, putting in effort, taking risks, and sometimes failing ourselves.

For example, imagine a group of students working on a college project. One student does most of the work while another keeps saying, “This presentation is not good enough,” or “You should have done this differently.” It is easy to criticize when you have not done much yourself. But sitting down, researching the topic, preparing slides, practicing the presentation, and helping the team is much harder. The person who contributes may make mistakes, but at least they are trying to move the group forward.

We can see the same thing in the workplace. It is common to hear employees complain about their company, manager, or team. They may say, “Management doesn't understand us,” or “Nobody here knows how to organize things.” Some of these complaints may be completely valid. But there is a big difference between complaining about a problem and trying to solve it.

Suppose an employee notices that meetings are always too long and unproductive. One person may simply complain about it every week. Another might suggest a simple agenda, keep meetings focused, and volunteer to organize them. The second person is contributing. They are not just pointing at the problem; they are taking responsibility for improving it.

This idea is also important in our communities.

We often complain about dirty roads, garbage, traffic, poor public facilities, or a lack of civic responsibility. Of course, governments and local authorities have responsibilities. But ordinary citizens also have a role to play. If someone complains about litter everywhere but throws a plastic bottle on the road, their criticism loses its meaning.

On the other hand, a person who picks up litter, uses public spaces responsibly, encourages others not to litter, or participates in a local cleanliness drive may not change the entire city. But they have contributed something. Real change often begins with such small actions.

A good example can also be found in sports. Watching a cricket match from the sofa makes it very easy to criticize a player. “He should have played that shot.” “The captain made a terrible decision.” “The bowler should have bowled differently.” From the outside, everything seems simple.

But being on the field is completely different. There is pressure, uncertainty, fatigue, and the possibility of failure. The player has to make decisions in seconds. Criticizing from a comfortable chair requires almost nothing; performing under pressure requires preparation and courage.

This doesn't mean that criticism is always bad. Constructive criticism is necessary. Without criticism, people and institutions cannot improve. A teacher who tells a student where they went wrong is helping them grow. A colleague who points out a genuine mistake can prevent a bigger problem. A citizen who questions a government decision can contribute to a healthier democracy.

The difference is between criticism that destroys and criticism that improves.

If we say, “This is terrible,” and walk away, we have done very little. But if we say, “This isn't working, and here is what I think we can do differently,” we have moved from criticism toward contribution.

There is also a personal lesson in this.

Sometimes we criticize other people because it makes us feel better about ourselves. It is comfortable to talk about what someone else is doing wrong because we don't have to examine our own shortcomings. Contribution forces us to look in the mirror.

If we think our family is not close enough, perhaps we should spend more time with them. If we think our workplace culture is poor, perhaps we can start by being supportive and respectful to our colleagues. If we believe our community needs improvement, perhaps we should ask ourselves what we can personally do.

Contribution does not always mean doing something big.

A student helping a classmate understand a difficult subject is contributing. A neighbour helping an elderly person carry groceries is contributing. An employee mentoring a new colleague is contributing. A person listening patiently to a friend who is struggling is contributing. These actions may never make the news, but they make a difference to someone's life.

History itself shows that meaningful progress usually comes from people who decided not only to complain about problems but to do something about them. Social reformers, scientists, entrepreneurs, teachers, activists, and ordinary citizens have all contributed in different ways. They were not necessarily perfect, and they did not always succeed immediately. What separated them from passive critics was their willingness to act.

In the end, criticism gives us a voice, but contribution gives that voice meaning.

It is easy to sit on the sidelines and say what others should have done. It is much harder to step forward and say, “I will do my part.”

We don't have to solve every problem in the world. We don't even have to be the person with all the answers. Sometimes, simply being willing to help is enough to begin.

So the next time we find ourselves criticizing a person, a system, a workplace, or society, perhaps we should pause for a moment and ask ourselves one simple question:

“What am I doing to make it better?”

Because pointing out the problem may make us a critic.Trying to solve it makes us a contributor.

And the world has never lacked critics. What it needs more of are people willing to contribute.

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Fri, 07 Aug 2026 07:22:06 +0000

My Life — The Way It Turned Out

When I look back at my life, sometimes I wonder how one person can live through so many different versions of herself.

I was once a young girl in a boarding school in the snowy hills. I still remember those years—the cold, the mountains, the feeling of being away from home and growing up surrounded by people who were not family. Those years shaped me in many ways. I learnt to manage on my own. I learnt to adjust. I learnt not to expect someone to always be there to hold my hand.

Then came college, and with it came the age when you start believing that you understand life.

I thought I understood love too.

The truth is, I didn’t really know what love was. I was in love with the idea of love. I believed that if two people chose each other, everything else would somehow fall into place.

So I fought my family. I rebelled. I wanted to marry the person I had chosen, and I was determined that nobody would stop me.

I wish I could go back and talk to that young girl.

I would tell her, “Don’t be in such a hurry. Don’t confuse wanting to be loved with actually being loved. Wait. See the person clearly. See how he treats you when he doesn’t get his way. See how he treats you when nobody is watching. See whether you feel safe, respected and valued.”

But young people don’t listen to older versions of themselves.

I got married.

And the strangest part is that I didn’t even have to wait very long to become disillusioned. The very same night, I knew something was terribly wrong.

I had fought everyone for this marriage, and yet almost immediately I found myself wondering what I had done.

There was no dramatic escape. No magic door through which I could walk out and start again.

Life simply continued.

And one day became another, then another year, and eventually another decade.

Fifty years.

Sometimes I cannot believe I have lived fifty years of married life feeling, in one way or another, that I made the wrong choice.

But life doesn’t stop just because your heart is disappointed.

I had to work.

I wanted my own money because money meant independence to me. It meant that I didn’t have to beg or ask for everything. It meant knowing that I could take care of myself. So I worked, learned, adapted and kept going.

Work gave me something important—my own identity.

And also that I was a mother.

Three daughters.

Three beautiful girls.

For them, I became a different person altogether.

I could tolerate things for myself, but when it came to my children, I became fierce. I wanted to protect them from the things I had experienced. I wanted them to grow up knowing their worth. I wanted them to have choices.

I don’t know whether I always succeeded.

No mother does.

But I know that I fought for them with everything I had.

Whatever else happened in my life, my daughters are the part of it that I will always be proud of.

They are my three beautiful pieces of happiness.

As the years passed, I also learnt something else—how to develop a thick skin.

When you hear enough criticism, enough taunts, enough instructions about how you should do everything, enough unnecessary drama and enough attempts to control little things in your everyday life, eventually something inside you changes.

You stop reacting to everything.

You learn to say nothing.

You learn to walk away.

You learn that not every accusation deserves an answer.

And you learn that sometimes keeping your peace is more important than proving that you are right.

But having a thick skin doesn’t mean that you don’t feel.

It only means that you have become very good at hiding what you feel.

Even now, there are days when I am exhausted by the constant need for attention, the arguments, the accusations and the stories told about me to other people.

It is particularly painful when someone takes the life you have lived and tells it differently to anyone who will listen.

I sometimes wonder whether people believe those stories.

And then I remind myself that I know the truth.

I know who I was.

I know what I did.

I know what I sacrificed.

I know what I endured.

Nobody else’s version of my life can change the life I actually lived.

Now I am old.

And perhaps this is the strangest stage of all.

There is no great ambition left to chase. No career ladder to climb. No children to raise. No future that needs to be built from scratch.

There is mostly today.

So I live one day at a time.

Some days are good.

Some are not.

Some days I laugh at something silly.

Sometimes a song brings back a memory.

Sometimes a movie takes me away from my own life for a few hours.

Sometimes a cup of tea feels like enough.

It is funny how, when you get older, the little things become the big things.

A peaceful morning.

A kind conversation.

A good meal.

A laugh.

A memory.

Hearing from my daughters.

Knowing that someone thought of me.

These small things have carried me further than I ever imagined.

I have also reached a point where I am simply tired.

Not tired in the way sleep can cure.

Tired in my mind.

Tired of having to explain myself.

Tired of being misunderstood.

Tired of unnecessary conflict.

Tired of carrying the emotional weight of things that should have been easier.

There are times when I pray that God will simply call me home.

Not because I have nothing to be grateful for.

I do.

But because I am tired and I long for peace.

I don’t want to fight anymore.

I don’t want to prove anything anymore.

I don’t want to defend myself anymore.

I just want quiet.

And yet, when I look back at my life, I cannot say that it was all bad.

It wasn’t.

There were good days too.

There were people who were kind to me.

There were moments that made me laugh.

There were places I loved.

There was music.

There were books and films and little pleasures.

There was work that made me feel capable.

And there were my daughters.

Most importantly, there were my daughters.

So perhaps I should not look at my life only through the things I didn’t receive.

I didn’t get the love story I imagined when I was young.

I didn’t get the marriage I thought I was fighting for.

I didn’t get the peaceful companionship I perhaps deserved in old age.

But I did get experiences.

I got independence.

I got the strength that comes from surviving things you once thought would destroy you.

And I got three beautiful daughters.

Maybe that is what gratitude is at this age—not pretending that everything was wonderful, but being able to say:

“Yes, there was a lot of pain.

Yes, there were choices I would make differently.

Yes, there were years I wish had been different.

But there were also moments of happiness.

And I am grateful for those.”

I don’t know how many years I have left.

I don’t want to count them.

For now, I will simply live them.

One day.

One cup of tea.

One song.

One memory.

One conversation.

One small happiness at a time.

I have spent most of my life taking care of everyone else.

Perhaps now, even if only in small ways, I can learn to take care of the woman who was me all those years ago—

the girl in the snowy hills,

the young woman who believed too much in love,

the wife who discovered too soon that she had made a mistake,

the working woman who wanted her independence, and

the mother who became fierce because three little girls needed her.

She has been through a lot.

She deserves some kindness now.

And perhaps that is the one thing I would finally like to give her.

A little peace.

A little tenderness.

And the knowledge that, despite everything, she made it this far.

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Thu, 06 Aug 2026 08:35:52 +0000

The Weight of Unheld Arms

There are people who measure love

by birthdays remembered,

by photographs framed,

by laughter around crowded tables.

I measure mine by the spaces

where a hug should have been.

Not once, from the hands that brought me into this world.

Not from siblings who shared my childhood roof.

Not from the man who promised forever.

Not from the children I carried in my heart.

Not from the tiny grandchildren whose arms never found their way around my neck.

I have lived through decades

without knowing what it feels like to be someone’s safe place,

or to rest inside the quiet certainty of another’s embrace.

People say, “It’s only a hug.”

They do not know that a hug says,

“You belong.”

“You matter.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

What is a heart supposed to believe

when it has never heard those words

or without a single sentence spoken?

Some days,

I wonder if I was born missing something invisible—

some secret worth everyone else received without asking.

I smile.

I speak gently.

I help.

I give.

I endure.

Yet somewhere inside,

a small child still stands at the doorway,

arms half-raised, waiting for someone

to choose her.

Years have passed.

The child has silver hair now.

She still waits.

The emptiness doesn’t shout anymore.

It has learned to whisper.

It sits beside me at family gatherings.

It follows me into quiet evenings.

It lies beside me when sleep refuses to come.

It asks, again and again,

“If no one has ever held me…

was I ever worth holding?”

I have no easy answer.

Only this:

My life became a garden

where everyone else found shade,

while the gardener stood alone in the sun.

Perhaps my greatest sorrow is not that I was unloved,

but that I spent a lifetime loving others

with arms that were never held.

And if heaven

keeps count of silent griefs,

may it remember this one:

There lived a woman

whose heart never stopped giving,

even though it never truly knew what it felt like

to be gathered close,

to be cherished,

to be home

in another person’s arms.

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Thu, 06 Aug 2026 05:47:24 +0000

WHEN YOU COME HOME

A Grandmother's Song

Verse 1

I hold your laughter in my hands,
Though oceans keep us far apart.
The miles may draw their lines on maps,
They cannot draw them through my heart.

Each night I whisper to the moon,
"Please kiss those little cheeks for me."
The stars become my lullaby,
Across the endless silver sea.

Pre-Chorus

One day you'll ask me where love lives...
I'll smile and simply say—

Chorus

It lives where every story starts,
In open skies and open hearts.
In every prayer, in every smile,
That waits for you each passing mile.

Come when you can, don't hurry home,
The door will always open be.
For home is not a place you find—
It's where your heart remembers me.

Verse 2

I'll show you mountains dressed in snow,
That touch the morning's golden light.
I'll show you rivers old as dreams,
Still singing through the silent night.

We'll chase the monsoon down the fields,
Watch peacocks dance before the rain.
And breathe the scent of earth reborn—
A perfume words cannot explain.

Chorus

We'll walk through colours, songs and prayers,
Where kindness quietly fills the air.
Taste mango summers, saffron skies,
See wonder through your own young eyes.

Come when you can, don't hurry home,
My love has learned the art of wait.
For every road you choose to walk
Will always lead you to my gate.

Bridge

You'll hear a thousand different tongues,
Yet every smile will say the same—
"Sit down, you've come a long, long way.
Now you are family again."

You'll light a tiny earthen lamp,
Its little flame both soft and bright.
And understand why hope survives
Even through the darkest night.

Key Change

If I am old... if I am gone...
Don't think you've walked this world alone.

Listen...

When morning birds begin to sing,
When children laugh, when temple bells ring,
When rain first kisses thirsty ground—
My love is there inside that sound.

Final Chorus

Come home someday, my precious ones,
Where ancient rivers greet the sun.
Where every season paints the earth,
Reminding us what life is worth.

And if your feet never find this shore,
Remember what I've told before—

You carry India when you're kind.
You carry India when you share.
You carry India when you forgive.
You carry India when you care.

For home is never lost by sea...

It's living quietly...

Inside of me.
Inside of you.
Forever.

Sleep well, my little stars...

Nani loves you.

Always.

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Thu, 06 Aug 2026 05:44:16 +0000

English with Hindi Words

"Nani's Promise"

Verse

My little angels, don't you fear,
Your Nani's always very near.
Across the oceans, near or far,
I wish upon each evening star.

I'll tell you stories every night,
Of India's colours, warm and bright.

Chorus

Come, my bachche, come one day,
Let Nani show you the way.

We'll watch the diya softly glow,
Where gentle evening breezes blow.

We'll draw a bright rangoli round,
With happy colours on the ground.

We'll hear the temple bells that ring,
And koel birds at sunrise sing.

We'll taste hot rotis, mango sweet,
Fresh jalebi, every treat.

We'll walk beside the holy Ganga,
Dance to joyful dhol and tabla.

We'll smell the mitti after rain,
A fragrance words cannot explain.

Bridge

Whether London, Sydney, Toronto, too,
Or anywhere the skies are blue,

Remember where your roots began,
The dreams, the love, the guiding hand.

Your Nani's heart will always say,
"India is never far away."

Final Chorus

Come, my bachche, whenever you can,
Come walk this ancient, gentle land.

And if your journey keeps you far,
My love will find you where you are.

Because a Nani's heart can see,
Across each shore, across each sea.

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Thu, 06 Aug 2026 05:43:10 +0000

Indian Folk / Classical Inspired Version

"The Song of My Motherland"

My darling children, listen near,
I'll paint a land both bright and dear.

Where dawn first kisses snowy peaks,
And every mountain softly speaks.

Where Ganga carries ancient prayer,
And jasmine perfumes evening air.

Where banyan trees tell tales of old,
And marigolds outshine the gold.

Where temple bells and mosque calls blend,
Where every faith can find a friend.

Where Diwali lights the darkest night,
And Holi bursts in colours bright.

Where harvest songs fill village skies,
And hope is seen in farmers' eyes.

Where coconut palms greet the sea,
And deserts bloom unexpectedly.

Where forests echo tiger's roar,
And elephants still roam once more.

Where spices scent the morning breeze—
Cardamom, cinnamon, cloves with ease.

Where rotis puff on open flame,
And every meal is love by name.

One day, my loves, come walk this land,
Hold India's heartbeat in your hand.

Till then, each lullaby I sing
Will carry home on gentle wings.

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Thu, 06 Aug 2026 05:41:52 +0000

Modern Verse–Chorus–Bridge Song (a song for my little ones)

"Come Home to India, My Little Ones"

Verse 1

My little stars across the sea,
Though miles divide our family tree,
Each morning when I whisper prayers,
My love comes floating through the air.

I see your smiles in every dawn,
Though many seasons have now gone.
The distance never dims the light,
That binds our hearts both day and night.

Pre-Chorus

Close your eyes and dream with me,
Of the land that shaped our family.

Chorus

Come home someday, my little ones,
Where every river greets the sun.
Where mountains kiss the sapphire sky,
And peacocks dance as clouds roll by.

Taste mango summers, hear temple bells,
The stories every grandmother tells.
Though oceans keep us far apart

India lives inside your heart.

Verse 2

Walk through valleys dressed in flowers,
Golden deserts, ancient towers.
Hear the waves where oceans sing,
Watch the forests come alive in spring.

Meet the people, kind and true,
Who'll smile before they speak to you.
Where every stranger finds a friend,
And open hearts know no end.

Chorus

Come home someday, my little ones... (repeat)

Bridge

If ever you should lose your way,
Or skies above turn cold and grey,
Remember roots run deep below,
Where love and hope forever grow.

Your Nani's prayers cross every tide,
With India walking by your side.

Final Chorus

Come home someday, my little ones,
To fields beneath a thousand suns.
And if life keeps you far away,
Carry her light with you each day.

For home's not only where we start,
It's every beat within your heart.

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Thu, 06 Aug 2026 05:37:57 +0000

Grandma's Song Across the Seas

My dearest hearts, though oceans stretch so wide,
My love still finds you with each rising sun.
You're nestled where the northern skylines glide,
Yet in my heart, our souls remain as one.

I wish you'd hear the monsoon's joyful rain,
That paints the thirsty earth in emerald green;
See mighty Himalayas proudly reign,
And rivers weave through lands of gold serene.

Taste mangoes sweet and fragrant pots of spice,
Warm rotis shared with laughter every day;
Meet gentle hearts whose smiles need no disguise,
Where every guest is family on their way.

Though far you grow, may India fill your soul—
For love knows every distance, and makes us whole.

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Sat, 01 Oct 2022 06:51:00 +0000

Hearing vs Listening

Greetings --importance & effects

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Fri, 29 May 2020 04:50:00 +0000

Greetings Are Important. Greetings are vital to make that first good impression, establish good relationships with your loved ones and set a positive tone for any conversation whether it is with your friend, boss or client. If you want to be an effective personality, you should not ignore the importance of greetings.

The greetings change depending on the time of the day. For example, “Good morning” is generally used from 5:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m. whereas “Good afternoon” is appropriate for a period from 12:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m. “Good evening” is often used after 6 p.m. or when the sun goes down.

The majority of older people insist that with this simple gesture you reflect the values of your family, while others hold the opinion that it is a symbol of respect. In any case, a greeting is very important to us. It is a manifestation of warmth, appreciation, and love that one person has for others.

Smiling will also improve your health by reducing stress, boosting your immune system, lowering your blood pressure and making you look younger. To make a positive impression on people you are greeting, look in their eyes and offer a warm, friendly smile as you tell them how pleased you are to meet or see them.

The effects of a simple greeting

We all need recognition. We need to feel that we matter. This doesn't mean that we should be running for glory and honour, but every human being has a basic and natural desire to be acknowledged as significant.

And we can give some of this significance to others simply by greeting them properly. The first thing to realize, which we certainly don't always think about, is that when we greet people with a 'good morning', we are actually giving them a blessing. We are telling them that we hope they will have a good morning. We are not defining the morning by saying 'good morning' rather, we are offering a blessing that it should be a good morning.

All greetings are meant in this way. The classical 'shalom aleichem' means literally that 'peace should be upon you', an excellent blessing which we always need…

The explanation would appear to be that when we see a fellow human being, we are obliged to acknowledge his value and importance. ...But even in the greeting, you display your respect for the person, even more, when you offer him a blessing that he should succeed, that things should go well, that he should have a 'good morning.'

And the way in which we greet someone is also important. ...We are not supposed to give someone a quick hello; rather, we should give them eye contact, emotion, and genuine loving attention.

As someone rightly said, "I came to love the way he lit up when I entered the room. He did this for many people, I know, but it was his special talent to make each visitor feel that the smile was unique. And it didn't stop with the greeting. When he was with you, he was really with you. He looked you straight in the eye, and he listened as if you were the only person in the world. How much better would people get along if their first encounter each day were like this—instead of a grumble from a waitress, or a bus driver, or a boss?

Formal greetings: “How do you do?”

· “Hello!”

· “Good morning.”

· “Good afternoon.”

· “Good evening.”

· “It's nice to meet you.”

· “It's a pleasure to meet you.” (These last two only work when you are meeting someone for the first time.)

· “ Hi!” ( Probably the most commonly used greeting in English)

· “ Morning!”

Who thought that such a common greeting could be so powerful? By acknowledging others in the community and having that acknowledgement reciprocated, we feel connected to the indigenous. Within the first week in a new place, the feeling of being an outsider will vanish, and you will feel accepted by the communities that you interact with. It is amazing how a simple nod and smile can considerably increase one’s sense of connection to the people around them.

Many of us experience some sort of rejection on a day-to-day basis. We often may feel ignored or excluded. Although some of us have become desensitized to this feeling, it can still put a damper on anyone’s day. However, a greeting can alleviate this sense of rejection. This sort of acknowledgement can make anyone feel more accepted by the people around them and easily brighten their day.

Unfortunately, most of us are sucked into our phones, checking our email, scrolling through Facebook / Instagram, or updating our Snapchat stories. We rarely acknowledge those around us, unless they are someone we know. We can change that. We should try to interact with the people around us. Little may we know that a simple hello/smile can make a huge impact on their day.

Feeling a Void in Life

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Mon, 09 Dec 2019 12:46:00 +0000

Having a void means a feeling of unhappiness because someone or something is missing: a large hole or empty space:

The human mind is very powerful. If it is not controlled, it can lead you to the turmoil of feelings and emotions and such things will decide your life. Most of the times, such states of mind are based on illogical beliefs and notions and prejudices and it will not give you a successful and a better or a desired life. There could be a million reasons. Whatever the reason is, it’s turning your brain against you. A void is unhappiness without a reason, without knowing what causes it you just feel empty

When a person gets an emotional breakdown, this phenomenon happens. Ex: big failures in love affairs, huge losses in finance, set back in marital life, death of a loved one or any such emotional setbacks might result in some kind of void-a feeling of nothingness, a feeling of a vacuum created in the mind. The human being then seeks for meaning or significance which will make him continue his life. When a person thus encounters such meaningless mundane issues but meaningful to his reasoning and thirst for something better, nobler, permanent and eternal, he feels as if he is struck up with void.

There is nothing wrong if the feeling of void stays with one for a short time; else it will take him to a psychiatrist!
The best option is to expose yourself to a new environment, forming new circles, to develop new skills.

Maybe you are going through some stress or something is bothering you which you are not able to share with anyone…or probably you are finding your life to be very monotonous and you are in need of a change ….talk to someone! Share your grief or problems so that you don’t feel like you are alone! For a change read a good book or go out somewhere …give yourself a makeover or just take out time to appreciate yourself!!

I don't exactly know what you are feeling, but I can tell you what I felt.
The void that I felt, and still do, is something that goes away as I focus on activities.
Like I put in more effort and concentration at work, music helps (a lot), reading, and talking to people and trying to keep myself occupied. I try not to dwell on the negative feelings; they've never brought me anything but unhappiness.

It helps to do what you are good at, makes you feel strong and in control. You can learn a new skill, makes you feel like a winner, and you can start a new exercise routine which just makes you feel awesome.

All the options, whatever you choose to do, requires you to set short term goals, something you can achieve in a week, maybe two. Slowly built it up, it'll be tough at first and will get easier as you keep it up. But it is important to do something, sitting around isn't going to help. If you feel really bad, consider some professional help too. No shame in that. Don't let pride or shame get in the way of feeling like yourself again.

We feel a void within when we have no purpose in our life. We enjoy living when our life is fulfilled (with purpose). Hence, you must discover your purpose. The centre of your purpose must lie outside you. It means that you must see how can you make the world a better place? You must help others to create a better world and in this process, you will get a better purpose. Your void will be filled.

The human mind is like an uncontrolled horse and it is required to be controlled. By feeding your mind with useful stuff and engaging yourself in some works, you will definitely realize that such feelings and emotions are actually senseless and useless products of the human brain.

I wish you the best and remind you “Believe in yourself -You deserve the best!”

The Powerful Words

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Wed, 28 Aug 2019 12:52:00 +0000

Words have power

Words have names

Words can always change the game

So use them with caution

Use them with care

Use them to show that you care

Words can hurt

Words can wound

If used carelessly

They can even maim and kill

So once again I say

Use them wisely

Use them sparingly

Use them to build relations

Not to destroy the world

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Fri, 23 Aug 2019 18:02:00 +0000

Work from Home vs Office

Working from home affords you flexibility, but it also demands a lot from you in return.

It’s much more than just the allure of getting to work in your pyjamas. Working from home means you’ll learn to rely on self-motivation, self-discipline, focus, and concentration. You can actually be more productive when working from home. Your office chair is your couch. Your commute is the length of your hallway. Your snack drawer is your entire pantry. Think it’s a dream? Not always.

In a traditional office setting, the mentors or the leaders seemed to be more accessible, more apt to have a pulse on the particular difficulties, and more prepared to offer feedback and guidance.

There is something to be said for having your colleagues nearby to offer support. When they physically see or hear you struggling through some sort of a business problem, they can help you to talk through various scenarios, strategize for solutions, and offer up aide or expertise in a much more natural, fluid way that does not happen when we work-from-home.

Work from office gives more of a mental and emotional break from work you can shut down the computer, switch off the light and close the office door, and pull out of the parking lot.

I have tasted both office & home.

I love the way I work now, in my PJs, multitasking as I work, interact with family, watch TV, take a short nap when work is slow, traveling if need be.

What is your way??

I guess it is each to his own!!!

Do we ever Retire?

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Sun, 22 Feb 2015 04:23:00 +0000

Retirement

"is the point where a person stops employment completely. Retirement, a time to do what you want to do, when you want to do it, where you want to do it, and, how you want to do it."

Hence though retirement may be an ending, a closing, it is also a new beginning.

When you retire, think and act as if you were still working; when you're still working, think and act a bit as if you were already retired.

Personally for me,retirement has been a discovery of beauty as I never had the time before to notice the beauty of my grand kids, the tree outside my very own front door. And, the beauty of time itself.

I truly believe in the saying that "The best time to start thinking about your retirement is before the boss does" as doing so you can get out of the rat race at a time that allows you to not only maintain your dignity,but come away with a feeling of being wanted.
However its always wise not to simply retire from something; but have something to retire to. As more often than not,when men reach their sixties and retire, they go to pieces. Women go right on cooking like they have always been doing.
So then for men sometimes it's hard to tell if retirement is a reward for a lifetime of hard work or a punishment.

Frustrations

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Sat, 21 Feb 2015 06:55:00 +0000

1.Not having ANYONE to talk to though you are always surrounded by people.—

u become a recluse.

2.Having a partner who is anything but that….in all things in life that matter.---

u become an introvert.

3.Having to live with a control freak… who thinks that controlling all things physical, monetary, food—morsels eaten or otherwise is for your own good,& he is doing you a favor by doing it.---

u become a thief & do things in hiding.

4.You are gossiped about & laughed at in every gathering & tall tales are told about your imaginary antics.—

u start laughing out loud to hide the pain & avoid socializing.

5. Though pitied by all, externally you are normal laughing, talking & seemingly an extrovert.---

internally you start looking forward to & thinking of ways to meet your maker.

6. End result—

when u can’t take it anymore, you hate the world and give up on life & desire to leave it forever.

Life ???

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Wed, 11 Sep 2013 11:27:00 +0000

When we are on this earth we are alive & feel we own our lives and also at times others lives too.

We rave, we rant and we want everyone to accept our dominance.

We give gyaan and our opinions even when not asked for.

For somewhere deep down we want to convince ourselves of our own worth, but are too blind or downright scared to voice it, and so point fingers at others.

But it is rightfully said, “We hate most in others, what we know and unknowingly hate in ourselves”.

Our whole lives are spent in trying to prove the above & then one day…..poof…..!!!!!! & we bid farewell to the world.

Leaving behind a bad taste in the mouth, mind and memory of the very ones who we cared for the most.

Is it really worth it????

A beautiful life wasted & for what????

1.In place of hate there could have been love.

2.In place of raving and ranting there could have been laughter and smiles

3.In place of hateful words there could have been words of love and forgiveness.

As Marley rightly says:

“Who are you to judge the life I live?
I know I'm not perfect -and I don't live to be
but before you start pointing fingers...
make sure you hands are clean!

This life is what you make it. No matter what, you're going to mess up sometimes, it's a universal truth. But the good part is you get to decide how you're going to mess it up. Just because you fail once, doesn't mean you're gonna fail at everything. Keep trying, hold on, and always, always, always believe in yourself, because if you don't, then who will? So keep your head high, keep your chin up, and most importantly, keep smiling, because life's a beautiful thing and there's so much to smile about.”

“In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.” --― Robert Frost

“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” --― Albert Einstein

Life 's vagaries

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Thu, 17 Jan 2013 16:15:00 +0000

Life’s Vagaries

I’ve learned-
1) That you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved. The rest is up to them.
2) That no matter how much I care, some people just don’t care back.
3) That it takes years to build up trust, and only seconds to destroy it.
4) That no matter how good a friend is, they’re going to hurt you every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.
5) That it’s not what you have in your life but who you have in your life that counts.
6) That you should never ruin an apology with an excuse.
7) That you can get by on charm for about fifteen minutes. After that, you’d better know something.
8) That you shouldn’t compare yourself to the best others can do.
9) That you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.
10) That it’s taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.
11) That you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.
12) That you can keep going long after you can’t.
13) That we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.
14) That either you control your attitude or it controls you.
15) That regardless of how hot and steamy a relationship is at first, the passion fades and there had better be something else to take its place.
16) That heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.
17) That money is a lousy way of keeping score.
18) That my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.
19) That sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you’re down will be the ones to help you get back up.
20) That sometimes when I’m angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn’t give me the right to be cruel.
21) That true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. Same goes for true love.
22) That just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have.
23) That maturity has more to do with what types of experiences you’ve had and what you’ve learned from them and less to do with how many birthdays you’ve celebrated.
24) That you should never tell a child their dreams are unlikely or outlandish. Few things are more humiliating, and what a tragedy it would be if they believed it.
25) That your family won’t always be there for you. It may seem funny, but people you aren’t related to can take care of you and love you and teach you to trust people again. Families aren’t biological.
26) That it isn’t always enough to be forgiven by others. Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.
27) That no matter how bad your heart is broken the world doesn’t stop for your grief.
28) That our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.
29) That a rich person is not the one who has the most but is one who needs the least.
30) That just because two people argue, it doesn’t mean they don’t love each other. And just because they don’t argue, it doesn’t mean they do.
31) That we don’t have to change friends if we understand that friends change.
32) That you shouldn’t be so eager to find out a secret. It could change your life forever.
33) That two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.
34) That no matter how you try to protect your children, they will eventually get hurt and you too will be hurt in the process.
35) That even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend cries out to you, you will find the strength to help.
36) That credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being.
37) That the people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.
38) That it’s hard to determine where to draw the line between being nice and not hurting people’s feelings, and standing up for what you believe.
39) That people will forget what you said, and people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.
40) That the tongue has no bones but is strong enough to break a heart. So you better be careful with your words.

Expectations lead to frustrations:

noreply@blogger.com (My musings) — Thu, 15 Nov 2012 10:01:00 +0000

As I said in my pointers in "Frustrations" it makes us into thieves in our own homes where we do things in hiding & gives us characteristics of which we ourselves become ashamed and we end up hating what we have become, leading us not only to hate the world but even ourselves. The bottom-line for building frustrations is within us itself & something which each one of us –small big, younger older or elderly, infant toddler teenager notwithstanding has. Something we knowingly or unknowingly start from a seedling and grow into a full-grown unshakeable “bargad ka ped”.—“EXPECTATIONS”.

From expecting our moms to cook and serve, clean and love as we begin this foray into the world of expectations. It’s a 2-way addiction as our peers & parents too expect good behaviour and obedience in return. Then as we grow older we expect them to fulfil our needs as well as wishes, and our friends to accept and boost our ego & self-worth. Later still our spouses & then on our kids take over & they too are added into our list & the earlier expectations remain rather even grow. We also have untold and unspoken expectations from our loved ones and friends—as if they are mind readers & will auto guess what we expect of them!!!

This is from my personal experience----It is this very same expectation, which leads to our downfall. A downfall caused by the unfulfilled expectations, partially fulfilled ones too. We feel saddened and pain, as we feel, let down—in small gestures or big projects. This pain then transforms into anger, depression, lashing out at our closest victims or even become suicidal.

Imagine ….if we did not “expect”, then there would be no “fulfilling” & hence no feeling of being let down or disappointment. In fact, because we don’t expect anything from anyone—every little bit we get any love, kind gestures, help, considerations……will be like a bonus during Diwali & Christmas….unexpected good returns, which not only bring gains but joy and happiness too. Blessing the giver & the receiver both.

Many cynics will say “easier said than done!”, I agree, but then who said life was easy?

Bottom-line if we take the first step towards non-expectation, at least we will have the satisfaction of doing something in order to avoid future disappointments & depression.

So remember…..

1. Don’t blame people for disappointing you, blame yourself for expecting too much from them.
2. "Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed."– said Alexander Pope.
3. Peace begins When expectation ends.
4. Don’t expect things to happen. It’s better to be surprised than to be disappointed.
5. What makes the earth feel like hell; is our expectation that it should feel like heaven.
6. Expectations Don’t magically Change Reality… Expectations Do Something Even More Powerful They Change The Way you Deal With Reality !!