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 …
Tag: traveller
Villimalé
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
Song of Solitude
Progress is still progress
No matter the pace
The road is tough
Filled with moments of doubt …
But growth begins in the smallest ways,
Needing time and tender care
Yes, surely!
When it feels slow, remember
Quitting won’t help
Nah nah, never!
Stay steady, sweet child
Appreciate where you are
For you’ve learned, and you’ve grown
Believe in the power of small beginnings;
Don’t fret about reaching the big things …
Collect the fragments of this world
Hear the joy of distant voices carried on the breeze
Drift and dive, and
Be foolish in your whims
But don’t you worry, beautiful soul
Stand tall, content in who you are ….
Yesterday, once again, I set out on a solo adventure, walking extensively and embracing the challenge of a marathon for myself. I loved it, without a doubt
Stepping off the London Underground into the vibrant heart of Paddington, I wandered through an area where historic charm dances with modern development, lively streets, and iconic architecture. Inside the bustling Paddington Train Station, alive with its constant hum of activity, I felt the energy swirling around me; it was contagious. Now, whether my energy fuels the station or the station fuels me, that’s the question
After that, I stepped outside, clutching my Google map like a compass, ready to chart my course through the bustling streets. I set my sights on the serene beauty of the Italian Gardens and the expansive embrace of Kensington Gardens.
And so, my journey began.
The air was sharp with a biting wind, the sky heavy with clouds. Yet, I discovered a certain beauty in the way the dry leaves twirled like dancers in the swirling wind, crafting their own brittle symphony beneath my feet. I wandered for miles, from the elegance of the Italian Gardens to the heart of Kensington, eventually finding myself standing by the Round Pond. There, I felt urge to paint something, anything, and I scattered color across my blank cold-pressed watercolor paper, watching as the hues bled and merged into mesmerizing patterns. It was a sight that captivated the mind, the way the colors flowed like thoughts unfolding. As Picasso once said, ‘Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.’ I felt that childlike joy, watching the colors breathe life into the paper. I always do feel like this
As the day slipped into dusk, swans paused in their graceful drifting, while the water, stirred by the wind, shivered with restless ripples, in this vast space, tinged with a hint of melancholy, my thoughts turned to success. I realized that success means something different to everyone. For me, it’s simply being present in this moment. Others may reach for the world, always consciously in race for this or that, I find no desire for that. Thoreau wisely noted, ‘What lies behind us and what lies ahead of us are tiny matters compared to what lives within us.’ My contentment springs not from possessions but from the quiet joy of simply existing now and here
This journey is beautiful
Don’t you think so?
I’ve been listening to this song for the past two days, and it has become my faithful walking companion. It’s a Bangla song. I adore its tune, lyrics, and gentle melody. This is one of the Bangla songs I listen to on repeat, filled with a deep affection that resonates within me. As I planned to paint by the pond, I envisioned singing this song while creating my artwork. So, I jotted down the lyrics in my little notebook and then sang the song aloud. I know my handwriting is charming, I love it ☺️ and I sing beautifully for my soul too! Do you love it?
Thank you for appreciating it!
I just wish you find the success that you want from life, and I pray for your good health, happiness, and joy as you travel in your life. Be happy always
I♥️
Roksana Tales 