She no longer fears missing out, for she has learned that what’s meant for her will never pass her by. While the world rushes to chase trends, gatherings, and noise, she finds peace in her own rhythm. Her joy isn’t borrowed from what others are doing, but born from the satisfaction of being present where she is …
She doesn’t measure her life against anyone’s timeline. She knows that every soul blooms in its own season. She would rather miss a hundred fleeting moments than lose the one that truly belongs to her …
For her, the real richness lies not in being everywhere, but in being whole, right where she stands …
A strong woman rises silently when the world expects her to fall knows her worth without apology … blooms in her own time … invites love not to tame her but to accept her fully, unapologetic, unstoppable, and unafraid to embrace her …
One day at a time! It sounds simple, almost too slow for this fast world. But when life humbles you, or pain stays long, you learn it’s not weakness, it’s wisdom …
Many won’t understand until survival becomes sacred, or until plans become hours, and peace is found in small steps …
Only then, suddenly, one day feels like a victory!
The Place Remembers your hands In the turned soil, the creased pages The teacup left just so on the counter Grief here is not loud It is the creak of a door you once touched …
The Place Holds your laughter in the walls Not echo, but residue Like how a tree remembers spring Through it now stands bare We walk through it, careful not to forget …
The Place Speaks in your language A photograph tilted A coat still hanging as though time stilled its breath Even the light bends the way you used to When you leaned into a story …
The Place No longer waits It has folded you gently Into its grain, its breath, its silence And yet Every corner aches like a closed book mid-sentence …
Just a few days ago, my best friend’s husband passed away, so suddenly, from heart failure. There was no warning, no long illness to prepare the heart for what was to come. One moment he was part of the constant wave of their lives, and the next, a stillness settled in that no one knew how to hold. Their home feels unbearably silent now, not just in sound, but in spirit. Every corner dictates his absence. The people left behind are trying to carry on, but their movements are slower, their eyes heavier. It’s the kind of grief that doesn’t shout, it whispers, lingers, and reshapes everything …
I’ve been thinking a lot about how fragile life really is. We plan, we dream, we hope, and yet so much is out of our control. I can only pray that my best friend finds strength in her memories and comfort in the love that surrounds her now …
People keep asking, ‘How broken are you? Should we try to fix you?’ But someone please tell them you can only fix what’s in pieces … I’ve been crushed so finely, I’ve turned to dust
She was in a car, paused at a red light, when a bus slowly pulled up beside her …
It was one of those older city buses, painted white, a bit weary-looking, as if it had seen too many monsoons and memories. Most of its windows were cracked open halfway, resting in a kind of in-between. But one window stood wide open. And there, beside it, sat a young man …
He had AirPods in, so she assumed he was listening to something, music maybe, or a podcast, or perhaps just the sound of his own solitude. His face was quiet in the way people sometimes are when they’re thinking of something that doesn’t need to be said …
There was no moon that night. Just a vast, bare sky stretched like a curtain of silence …
And she smiled to herself …
Not because she knew the boy, not even slightly. She didn’t know his name, his birthday, his favourite tea, or whether he believed in stars or horoscopes. But something about him … reminded her of someone …
A young man she had been exchanging emails with for years now …
They called each other penpals, and that’s probably what they were. Words had passed between them like little paper boats, floating across years, without a single meeting, or even a real photograph …
Though she feels that he’s ‘full of emotions’, thoughtful, sometimes a little too serious, sometimes surprisingly light. He’s a practical young lad. And though she knew so little about him, nothing really concrete, she still felt like she knew him …
And somehow, seeing this boy at the bus window stirred up the memory of one of his old lines, one she never quite forgot: ‘If someone can’t read between the lines, you gotta unfold their blinds’ …
She had laughed when she read that. She smiled again now, under the faint flicker of a streetlight. And his presence stirred something, like déjà vu, like a soul remembering a face from a dream …
Her car was still. The bus beside her, alive with passengers. The boy at the window, lost in the sky …
And she … She almost wanted to wave, but she didn’t … Instead, she sat there, lost in her own musings
Soulmates cross lifetimes, meeting again and again, each time in a different form. Perhaps in one life, he was the brother her soul leaned on. In another, the friend who understood her silences. And maybe, in a life half-forgotten by time, he was the one her heart called home …
In this life, she found him in letters, digital now, yes, but no less tender. Somewhere beneath the playful tone and thoughtful replies, she wondered if fate was quietly weaving its magic …
She was still thinking …
After all, soulmates don’t always arrive with introductions … Sometimes, they just show up at red lights …
It’s not possible for you to see, feel, or understand How many times she has been unseen and unheard And still, she chose to show up …
It’s not quite possible for you to know What it takes to carry on When the world never learned to make room for her pain …
You see her laugh, light up a room, carry joy in her voice But you don’t see the weight behind it Every smile is a decision, not a default …
It takes quiet, relentless courage To choose hope after growing up in chaos, confusion and fear … To rise each day and still Believe in goodness, in light, is a strength many will never understand …
She isn’t just surviving She’s rewriting her story, one brave moment at a time That’s not just resilience That’s power …
I know you’ve been holding a lot lately, not just in your hands, but in your heart. You care so deeply, and it shows in all the little ways you’re trying to help, to listen, to stay steady. I see how much thought you’re putting into what might ease someone else’s pain, how to show up not just with love, but with wisdom …
You may never have the perfect words or solutions, and that’s okay. It’s not about fixing everything. It’s about being there, consistently, quietly, with care. That kind of presence does matter. That kind of love is enough …
It’s also okay to feel tired sometimes. To question if you’re doing enough. To wonder if your efforts are really helping. Just remember: your intentions are rooted in love, and love is never wasted. Rest when you need to. Trust that showing up with honesty and patience is a healing act in itself …
Keep going gently. You’re doing better than you think …
Even on the days when your strength slips away and your heart feels too heavy to carry, know this, it’s okay to rest, to feel, to fall apart, because your worth was never measured by how well you pretend to be okay …
Saying ‘It’s okay’ can become an invisible shield we wear to protect others from our truth, but healing begins when we let our silence speak, and allow ourselves the grace to not always be okay
Even nature does not hide its hurt; the sky weeps, the trees shed, the earth cracks, and in doing so, it finds its way back to balance. In embracing its own cycles of pain and release, nature teaches us that healing is not found in silence, but in allowing ourselves to feel, break, and begin again. So must we …
How many times I say ‘It’s okay’ But know that it’s okay to be not okay …
Some things are worth waiting for Like the first drop of rain after a long dry day Or a flower opening when the sun feels just right … Love waits too, likethe moon behind a slow-moving cloud It doesn’t rush, doesn’t shout … But grows quietly, likeroots under the ground The heart keeps hoping, silently, day after day Like the sea touching the sand again and again Love returns when it’s ready And when it does, it feels like breathing again
Isn’t it something, how many words we’ve shared today? After all this time, I didn’t expect it, but I think, in my deepest heart, I was waiting for your letter, your voice between the lines …
Lately, my world has felt like a storm, emotionally, mentally, a whirlwind of moments and moods. But even within that, you drifted into my thoughts today. And with that thought came a soft realisation: I was still waiting to hear from you …
Perhaps that says something, not just about timing, or connection, but about how some souls hold a kind of gravity, silently, years after years. Even from a distance, they stay. They stir something gentle, something true. How they have a quiet way of returning, just when you need to hear from them!
I once read in ‘Married to Bhutan’ how being near a river can slow you down, how just standing beside water can make you feel calm and present. That thought stayed with me. And maybe that’s why your words today felt so familiar, like the sound of water flowing, unexpected yet comforting …
Maybe it was one of those days when she missed someone in the middle of every chaos happening in her life, and she realised it wasn’t only emptiness, but it held love. Then she scribbled a few lines to express how the heart still keeps speaking to that significant someone …
She called it ‘Still Love’, because, love, when it’s true, doesn’t go away, it simply grows within …
The butterfly effect means small actions can lead to big changes. Like a butterfly flapping its wings and causing a distant storm, one quiet choice can shape our future. It shows how everything is connected, even simple moments can lead to powerful transformations over time …
Over the past year, I’ve seen this truth unfold in my own life. A single decision, to take a walk, go on a journey, or say yes to a trip, or to start painting, led to deeper healing and new strength …
There was the trip to the Maldives, a place that was never on my list. I hadn’t planned it, yet it turned out to be a gentle gift. I didn’t know I would need that much in my core, and I would love so much of the stillness of the sea, the crystal-clear color of the water, the softness of the days, it all felt like life was giving me something I didn’t know I needed …
Now, as I reflect, I see that letting myself explore the unknown began with small, quiet steps. Like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, those moments created ripples I’m still feeling today …
Most days, when it’s Friday, I remember that on such one Friday I entered his city, and he didn’t show up …
Do you know what I was thinking when I stepped out of the airport? I never been to this airport and unfortunately I was going to stay only the night at his city ….
Our hotel cars were outside the airport. We girls got into the cars and the car was passing through the airport road to get to the city centre … the full moon was racing with us, I was watching it through the car window …with my wandering heartbeats on …
I wanted to believe that he will be there to surprise me. So without any contact with him, I was still hoping that I may see him in there at the hotel lobby and for that I was feeling a bit nervous, ‘What if he actually comes!? Should I go outside to grab coffee with him as he wanted to take me out for a coffee, or should I ask him to have dinner at the hotel restaurant as it was already late because of the delayed flight. We won’t get time for a coffee break somewhere else.’ – to be honest I was feeling very nervous too. And more importantly, I needed to give him the gifts that I’ve been carrying throughout my whole trip,… So I needed to unpack my luggage!”
“Oh no! That would be a mess!” – I was thinking about all these in my mind …
Then we reached the hotel. The lobby was normal with less people. I looked around a little bit more. “Was there any face that was searching someone?” – I was looking here and there and was thinking about this – “Oh! better if he doesn’t come now.” As if I can recognise him. I never saw him even. How stupid and pathetic I was! I was thinking, ‘I want to freshen up first and then I’ll be coming down again for dinner, and may be by that time he would come and I may offer him dinner Dosa at the hotel restaurant’ … I still can’t believe that I was thinking all of these even without any confirmation from him to meet me here! Feeling too much angry at myself ….
However, after the hotel formalities were done, we went up to our room and then I came down with my travel mate and by that time I grew a feeling of no expectation that he would come. ‘If I expect, it’s going to hurt me. It’s alright’ – I was thinking to make myself feel better and now I’m waiting for my dosa with an expectation of having a good dinner, because I was so hungry by that time through so many things and all of these unsure traumas …
Unfortunately -A delayed flight disappointed me … -‘He’ disappointed me (He didn’t come. He didn’t confirm he would come though. Still I felt disappointed as if it’s all his fault…. ) -Dosa disappointed me (I was so hungry and I was craving dosa, but it was a disaster)
Now what?
A dilemma …
To keep or not to keep the gift packet at the reception desk!
My poor little handmade gifts for him, and few other things – should I keep my gift packet for him to pick later on when he gets to know that I was at his city and about all of these!
Poor me and my surprise gifts!
Wish he would know how brave it was for me to accept his coffee date for sometime in the middle of the night …
It won’t make sense if he never comes and by that time I started having headaches. I must sleep for sometime, and so I did, having a medicine …
It was 3 AM in the morning, again our cars were on the road of his city to reach the airport. This time I took some videos of the road as a memory of the city.
Long ago when the young girl in me visited this city, she was a carefree young girl who didnt know what does disappointment means! At that time she treasured the memory of visiting the famous amusement park with her siblings – it was full of fun, laughter and pure innocent joy. That time she left the city with delightful memories.
Now she’s leaving the city with the gift she so lovingly brought here for someone she never met before, but whom she thought she knew for a long time ….
This time she was innocent too, as her feelings were so deep and true, but she didn’t understand why she would be disappointed for someone who didn’t even know about the gifts she’s been carrying for him.
But for what reason, she was upset – she didn’t understand though she’s not a carefree young girl anymore …
But she was upset, confused and disoriented because now she was carrying the gifts to bring back home and carrying a strange unknown heart leaving a bit of her heart in this dark city!
Dark, because she entered it with a strange unknown feeling and it was nighttime though the moon was there (a relief to my eyes) and dark, because her heart was broken for a completely unknown, strange, unspecified reason so she was in denial for long …
It was a Friday night entering his city and on the morning of Saturday my flight took off from his city …
So on Fridays, most times it reminds me of that Friday when I was in his city, and he didn’t show up …
It’s a long post. I’m sorry for that. If you’ve read the whole story, thank you and tell me if you’ve ever felt the same? Or any instance that you might have felt ….
The dawn was breaking You looked at me I looked at you The place was a haunting one The light was shining And You and I collide Yet we never kissed … You never touched my face … What could I say? What could I do? There I stood, unknowing What’s happening In a world full of billions There were you Mixed with all of the chaos Inside and Out At that very moment I somehow felt You and I collide For a reason … When The dawn was breaking You looked at me I looked at you
Roksana Tales 