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 …
How many times I say It’s okay Even when I’m breaking inside …
How many times I say It’s okay While swallowing truths I cannot express …
How many times I say It’s okay And hide the tremble in my voice …
How many times I say It’s okay Though it was never really a choice …
How many times I say It’s okay Till I forget what peace feels like …
#roksanatales
On the path to reach ‘Arthur Seat’, Edinburgh
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 …
After arriving in Malé, my son and I took a short ride across the water on a cheerful little troller and arrived at Villimalé, a quaint residential island just a breath away from the city, yet carrying a world of its own. We really loved it from our first glance
At Malahini Resort, we met quite a few Bangladeshi brothers. One of them was Anwar, from Cumilla. He would often talk to us and check in to see how we were doing. The day before we were to leave the resort, he found out that we’d be spending a day in the capital, Malé. That’s when he suggested, ‘You should visit Villimalé (Villingili). It’s really beautiful, peaceful beaches, and you’ll get a glimpse of how the locals live by the sea.’
My son and I decided to follow Anwar’s suggestion. And that’s how after arriving in Malé, we took a little time to check in and freshen up at the hotel and then set off for Villingili
Vilimalé greeted us like an old friend, quiet, colorful, and full of life in the most unassuming ways. We arrived in the afternoon, when the sun had begun to soften and the island was slowly waking up from its midday rest. We strolled along the beach, letting the rhythm of the waves guide us, and quickly realized that this wasn’t just a place, it was a gentle rhythm of living.
Everywhere we looked, there were tiny glimpses of humanity, sweet nothings, really, but the kind that make a place unforgettable. We saw two youngsters sitting on a swing, lost in deep conversation, as if the world around them had vanished. Just a little further down, two elderly citizens mirrored the same scene, also on a swing, equally absorbed in their own quiet exchange. It struck me how conversation, across generations, had found its sacred space here
The island had spaces carved out for everyone. Recreational areas were sprinkled thoughtfully across the land, inviting both the young and old to step out, breathe, and belong. As the sun began its descent, we saw more and more people emerging from their homes, children playing, families gathering near the shore, neighbors leaning against colorful walls exchanging daily stories. There was a profound simplicity in it all, a culture of connection, held together by time, tradition, and tide
One thing I adored was the palette of colors, houses in hues of blue, pink, and green added a joyful softness to the streets. Local buses trundled along quietly, connecting corners of the island, making life easier not just for tourists like us, but for the people who called this place home
At one point, I stopped by a humble juice stall and, with a bit of curiosity, asked the shopkeeper if he had any old coins to exchange for my Maldivian rufiyaa. To my surprise, he smiled warmly, searched through his collection, and found some for me. It wasn’t just a kind gesture, it felt like a small act of honor, a way of saying we see you, and we care. That exchange stayed with me; you know, respect can live in even the smallest interactions
Vilimalé may be a little island, but it left a great impression on us
True that beauty lives not just in landscapes or luxury, but in everyday warmth, in shared swings and sunset talks, and in the quiet magic of simply being present, with a place, and with someone you love
If you ever visit the Maldives, don’t forget to stop by the little island of Vilimalé. Whether you’re there for a stroll, a swim, or simply to slow down, Villimalé feels like a hidden corner of everyday island life
Light pours in like a gentle guest She stands where warmth meets wonder Paint in her hand, soft power in her stance The table glows with quiet intention Each colour catching a piece of the day …
Let Go, and Let Bloom Mindful Drawing Moments by Jian Bird Creates
It’s so satisfying to host sessions like Mindful Drawing Moments’ – what began on a quiet day with a simple act of curiosity. I invited a few willing souls to join me in the pattern artworks I usually create to calm my mind and return to myself. One participant became two, and slowly, word spread. That’s how ‘Mindful Drawing Moments’ was born: gently, organically, like something blooming in its own time …
Since then, these sessions have become spaces where self-help and creativity meet. Through themes like Kaizen, Kintsugi, Manifestation, Self-Love, and Mindfulness, each gathering offers more than just art, it becomes a mirror, a soft release, a shared breath …
Our recent sessions, themed ‘Let Go and Let Bloom,’ invited participants to reflect through drawing wildflowers, free, untamed, purposeful. Dried flowers from my mother’s garden were placed on the table, not just for beauty, but as a quiet symbol: that even after loss or struggle, something fragile and meaningful can still remain …
The way the participants picked up color, poured their thoughts into shapes, and shared reflections was deeply moving. There was no pressure to be an artist, only an invitation to be present …
We began with simple prompts, one that echoed was: ‘Never mind what they’. Almost all said: ‘think’. And so the letting go began …
From releasing judgment to choosing kindness, from holding space for others to forgiving ourselves, each voice in the circle added something honest and real. The drawings bloomed with color, but more importantly, so did the people …
The session closed with open hearts and softened edges. And with each event, Jian Bird Creates now offers a Certificate of Participation, a small reminder that showing up for yourself is something to honor …
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 …
In quiet, love stays Unspoken, yet it echoes Through the silent space …
#roksanatales
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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 …
Today, I poured watercolours onto the paper. I didn’t control the flow. I just let them move, soft, wild, honest …
It felt like life. Sometimes, it makes no sense. But still, I move with it. I let it run through me. I follow what feels true, even if no one else understands it …
Nothing made sense today. Nothing went as planned. But I chose to go anyway. Go right. Go forward. Go my way …
Because even when nothing goes right, I can still go right … In my own way …
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 …
#roksanatales
April, 2025, Maldives
And see, I’m learning to trust the small steps because they just might lead me somewhere beautiful …
If healing means honoring each small win with love, then yes, I’m all in.
Life lately has felt like a handful of mismatched puzzle pieces, confusion, mistakes, fatigue, sudden changes, and that quiet weight of uncertainty. The Edinburgh trip, though planned in a hurry, reminded me that not all plans bring peace. Sometimes, even with good intentions, things get messy, emotionally, physically, logistically. It was far from perfect. And yet we pulled it off. Safely. Together.
Somewhere on the train ride back to London, while everything inside me felt scrambled, I painted tulips. Just small strokes. Just a quiet orchestra of colour, blooming gently across paper. This little painting feels like a symbol now, not of the trip itself, but of surviving the chaos around it. Of still choosing to make something tender while in motion.
Healing, I’m learning, isn’t about always getting it right. It’s about showing up for myself anyway, in illness, in confusion, in exhaustion. It’s about pausing to notice the small things: a safe return, a single flower, a quiet breath. That’s where the love lives. In small, steady steps forward
And today, that’s enough
I♥️
#roksanatales
4th May, 2025 Edinburgh to London
Little tulips in a beautiful way On a train journey from Edinburgh to London
Be spirited, hopeful and optimistic, no matter what!
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Sabr (صبر) (Arabic) – Patience and quiet endurance through hardship; steadfastness in the face of trials
Sometimes, I find myself simply observing those who seem ‘normal’, the way they speak, the words they choose to describe their experiences, how they react, or how they present their abilities with such careful confidence. Their ease in communication fascinates me, as if they instinctively know how to navigate social expectations.
At times, being among them makes me feel out of place, as if I exist on a different wavelength. Yet, I take myself lightly, even when they joke at my expense. I do not mind, because their amusement does not define me. In fact, I feel a strange sense of joy when they fail to understand me, because, deep down, that’s exactly what I prefer.
Those of us who are born different, who experience the world through a mind that society struggles to categorize, are often labeled with terms and diagnoses. But these labels do not define us. We are nature’s unique creation, wired to perceive life in ways they cannot grasp. And perhaps, they do not need to understand us.
Only a few people ever truly see us for who we are, and that is the rarest gift. The most powerful truth is that we are the ones who teach them how to understand us. It is not luck that allows them to connect with us, it is our choice to let them in. And for that, they are truly fortunate …
A tale from a psychologically challenged soul
#roksanatales
Cherry blossoms in Ravenscourt Park, London
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Étranger/ french Meaning is ‘Stranger’. It reflects the sense of being apart from the norm, of existing on a different wavelength, and not being fully understood by society
There once was a verse, soft and free Whispered wild like the wind through a tree ‘I’m the poem,’ I say … ‘Not the poet today …. For the words are the ones shaping me.’
Your absence hums like a violin string snapped mid-note A comet that vanished before its trail could unfold The eclipse of a lighthouse on a storm-battered coast …
Time crawls, a spider weaving webs of empty hours Memories linger like fireflies trapped in a jar Each one dimming, yet refusing to fade into stars …
Your voice was rain stitching needles through thirsty leaves Now silence looms like an unfinished symphony’s grief A mosaic missing its most vivid, sacred piece…
I search for you in the scent of forgotten gardens In waves that speak like poets lost to their stanzas In winds that carry secrets of unuttered mantras …
Truth is, I miss you like the moon misses its tides A ship adrift, no constellations to confide The ache of a heart where all its echoes reside
I hope this letter finds you well. As Aristotle once said, “Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom.” With that in mind, I wanted to share some important reminders—lessons I’ve learned and wisdom I’ve gathered over time …
First, remember that happiness isn’t just a destination; it’s the journey itself. Think of each moment as a precious gem to be savored. Immerse yourself in what you love, whether it’s painting a vivid canvas, losing yourself in a good book, tending to your garden, or enjoying the company of friends. Don’t hold back. Learn the practice of “wabi-sabi.” While wabi-sabi primarily focuses on finding beauty in imperfection and the transient nature of life, it also emphasizes appreciating simple, everyday moments. Appreciate more of your self-care and personal expression. Dress in your favorite outfits, experiment with makeup, or enjoy a pampering session as a way to celebrate yourself and find joy in small, delightful ways. Embrace and cherish the present moment …
Don’t overthink. Eliminate self-doubt and self-criticism. Don’t ever think you’re not enough; you are enough, just as you are. As Eleanor Roosevelt said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” Don’t let negative thoughts take root in your mind. Instead, focus on starting a skincare routine, eating healthy meals, maintaining regular exercise or yoga, and taking care of your personal hygiene. Remember, your brain and body are closely linked; when one suffers, the other often does too …
My dear, do you laugh often? Laughter is a reflection of our inner state of being, so let it flow freely. Find that spark that lights up your eyes. Be passionate about something—whether it’s a hobby, a project, playing an instrument, exploring nature, or even just a ride all on your own …
Seek connection and company. Share your joys, sorrows, and daily happenings with the right people. Building and nurturing these relationships is essential for your well-being. The support and understanding of others can provide strength and perspective in difficult times. But also never ever let anyone tell you otherwise or bring you down …
Read as many books as you can, starting from a young age. As George R.R. Martin said, “A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies . . . The man who never reads lives only one.” Reading will enrich your life and make the most of your time in the best possible ways …
Please darling don’t forget to walk daily, move, run, or dance, for ‘to keep the body in good health is a duty… otherwise we shall not be able to keep our mind strong and clear.'” – Buddha
You have the power to create a beautiful life for yourself. Embrace every opportunity to grow, learn, and love. You’ve got this. The time is now to be bold about who you are. Hold no regrets. Try more things. Cross some lines. It won’t matter to anyone. Love yourself as you are. And remember, you are always beautiful, kind, and worthy of being loved, cared for, and respected.
Consider Oprah Winfrey’s journey. Despite facing significant challenges and adversities in her early life, she embraced every opportunity for growth and learning, ultimately becoming one of the most influential and successful figures in the world. Her story is a testament to the power of self-love, resilience, and the pursuit of one’s true self. As she often says, “The biggest adventure you can take is to live the life of your dreams.”
You’ll discover a unique happiness that comes from simply living and enjoying everyday, mundane pleasures. Imagine a painter who, after years of searching for inspiration in grand landscapes, finally finds true joy in capturing the simple beauty of a sunlit kitchen, a blooming garden, or the quiet streets of their neighborhood. Their art reflects the contentment found in everyday moments, illustrating how the ordinary can bring profound happiness.
Love deeply and passionately. Someone unique will come into your life. He won’t possess the conventional markers of success you once thought were essential in a partner. On your first date, he might give you a ride home on the handlebars of his bike because he doesn’t have a car and can’t afford to rent one. But don’t worry about these. Rather you may find that he’s incredibly funny, intelligent, and has remarkable integrity.
And lastly, be funny, kind, empathetic, caring, and respectful. Be vulnerable. Wouldn’t you agree that these qualities make life richer and more fulfilling?
You warm my heart, Roksana
#roksanatales
A letter to the younger self
The few coloring, drawings, paintings that I enjoyed doing in this July
However, no matter how old you are, there’s always something to learn from any moment or from anyone who is an integral part of your life right now. Learn what you can from those you admire and most importantly from the walk of your own life and apply it in real sense as much as possible ….
I have a fondness for breaking apart A fascination with the fragile The delicate dance of hearts Walking unsteadily on the edge … In love …
I have a fondness for breaking apart At times it seems Love’s other name is Broken hearts … An echo of longing … A symphony of cracks …
I have a fondness for breaking apart In love, I find A beauty in the fracture, In the spaces … Where light seeps through the wounds Where the raw and the real collide In a blaze of truth and tenderness …
I have a fondness for breaking apart It’s a mosaic of Shattered dreams Pieced together with hope … A courage of feeling The audacity of connection …
I have a fondness For the breaking … For the way love demands vulnerability … For the way it strips us bare … For the way all its flaws are revealed I have a fondness For my unguarded heart Breaking apart …
For in the breaking, We find the depth of love The resilience of the beautiful soul … The beauty of a heart That dares to love Even knowing it might break … That’s how I have a fondness For breaking apart …
It took me quite a while To understand That I belong To the creative world of words …. Photography holds an undefined attraction, And painting is a healing journey For my soul …
A soul that travels Through the tests and trials Of my ancestors, Who endured so much in life. They emerged from vulnerability, An innate resilience Passed down through generations, Now alive within me …
It might sound quite vulnerable and it’s okay with me. I think I’ve inherited vulnerability from my maternal grandmother. I love her so much and lately
I’ve realized this strange feeling that who I choose to be has nothing to do with how others perceive me. I am under no obligation to let their version of me become the story I tell myself and create it my way ….
Roksana Tales 