A daughter’s heartfelt letter to her late father, reminiscing about his unconditional love, progressive values, sacrifices, and unwavering support. From enduring taunts to prioritizing family over ego, he was her pillar through life’s storms. Now gone, his absence is deeply felt—but his love continues to guide and comfort.
Overcoming bipolar anxiety, the author embarks on a victorious solo trip to Dwarka and Somnath. Careful planning, resilience, and faith help her navigate challenges, embrace spirituality, and gain confidence. From temple visits to missed adventures, she finds independence, proving she can travel solo across India and beyond in the future.
A Little Confession I have been meaning to share this since quite some time now, and I’m really not sure how this would be accepted,
Journaling is a transformative act that promotes self-awareness, emotional release, and personal growth. It offers clarity, reduces stress, and nurtures creativity. By exploring various styles—gratitude, goal-oriented, or artful—you can heal, reflect, and thrive. Journaling becomes a lifelong companion, fostering introspection, resilience, and connection with your authentic self.
This article discusses the societal pressure on Indian women to marry by a certain age, sharing personal experiences and frustrations. It challenges the notion that marriage should be tied to age or societal expectations, advocating for personal choice, rejecting dowry, and emphasizing self-worth over societal norms.
Its the actor, Madhavan’s birthday today! He was born on 1 June 1970 in Jamshedpur, Bihar (now in Jharkhand), India, to a Tamil Brahmin family. Happy birthday, Maddy!
Rains have always attracted me. The beauty of nature appears best during the Monsoons.
But I also have my meltdowns and my lowest moments. I often do cry for hours, just wondering what will happen to him. This happens mostly after situations when I feel guilty and I feel I failed as a mother when all my efforts to teach him something end in vain. I have heard my relatives discussing my son’s “sickness”. I have heard my mother-in-law blaming my genes. I saw people looking at my kid and being judgemental.
I still remember for a fleeting moment, how I could feel the lump in your throat and see your eyes well up while telling me the story before you regained your composure. However, it was long enough for me to notice and remember it like it was just yesterday.
