Time to return the sea shell

Back from my last connect of the year—with my ex-manager—I was in a cab back to the office. I was having this "FOMO" sort of feeling; a strong impulse to go somewhere.

After all, no one is in the office or working! Why is it that I am the one taking all the responsibility to show up?

My heart couldn’t buy into the justification of my mind. I dialed a friend to ask if I could visit the campsite and checked train tickets, but they were only available for tomorrow noon. That would have dropped me at the location by the end of the day, meaning I would have entered the New Year, 2026, while on a train or sleeping after a long journey.

I was also looking for company, so I called my ex-neighbour; I knew she would be free to join me :). On the call, I asked her, "Shall we travel to Shimoga or Sakleshpur?"

Her response was that she had already been to those places, and she suggested, "Why don't we go to Pondicherry?"

And the rest is history! 😂😂

I updated my office return to 1:30 pm and made sure to book the bus, accommodation, and tour schedule. I got back home and attended to some tiny guests (my owner’s kids and visiting kids). They painted, we chit-chatted, giggled, and ate some fruits—and then I had to shoo them off! 🫣

Later, I had a call with my therapist. It was a beautiful session with even more intense insights and some light-hearted awareness that she inculcate in me. I am deeply grateful for her being in my life 🙏🌹; however, this was our last official call.

In the evening, after packing my luggage, I sat down to light the lamp. While doing so, I remembered a shell gifted to me by a school girl I met during a trip to this land. To avoid hurting her feelings, I had previously decided I would return it to the sea when I visited again... but I kept forgetting it at every opportunity. This time was different. While sitting in front of the lit lamp, the reminder came on its own, as if it were predestined and the time had finally come. I felt happy that it was so effortless!

I applied some ash to the shell (like a mini lady-priest), coronating "The Shell" and sending it home. I waved some blessings from the lamp toward it, thanking the shell and the love the girl showed when she gave it to me.

My heart felt deeply peaceful and happy.

31st Dec 2025

Here I am...

With love and gratitude, I bade adieu to it, and it was handed over to the ocean through the waves. 🌊

With love and gratitude I bit adieu to it and it was handover to the ocean thru waves 🌊


during Breakfast, I clicked this misguiding calendar

(It's 31st Dec 2025) ...


--
Love & Grace 💞🫰

The Evening of the 28th: A Reminder to Bloom

The evening of the 28th was, again, a reminder to bloom.

At noon, after finishing the lunch preparations, I went to take a shower while my friend was preparing her signature dish: baked aloo parathas. I tried to help, but because I love to play with the dough and am not too fussy about the filling spilling out a little—whereas she is a pro and very strict about the effort required for even an aloo paratha—I pulled back from offering support and headed to the bath.

I used this time for myself to enjoy a herbal bath with music playing on my cellphone. I got lost in my thoughts, drifting in and out of feelings of being inadequate, too soft, or overly accommodating, and fearful of confrontation—to the extent that I felt I might harm myself. Then, I reminded myself that my thoughts are a passing reality and not my truth, and I allowed myself to enjoy the bath. Still, I didn't feel good about the fact that my friend was in the kitchen cooking for both of us alone, so I rushed.

I came out of the bathroom, got ready, and hurried to the kitchen to ask her if all was going as planned with the baking in the baati oven. She didn't respond to my repeated questions. I looked at her face, and she gestured that she was on a call via earphones. I went quiet.

Something hurt me deeply at that moment. I didn't want that feeling to come to the surface, so I rushed to the terrace on the pretext of drying my clothes on the line—which was partly true, but mostly just an excuse.

I had tears; I felt overwhelmed and wanted to cry out loud. The song continued to play on my phone, primarily to make sure I felt unaffected by anything around me. I was sobbing, and the song that was playing was so dear to me in that moment: Dooroon Dooron. Even though I have heard it numerous times, each line was speaking to my heart once again.

I looked up at the sky and saw the waxing crescent moon in the bright late-afternoon sky. I felt a little better. I checked in with myself: Am I alright? Is this overwhelming feeling due to missing someone by my side, or not having the  person around but so lost in there own world that rest nothing matters? 

I couldn't answer and I choked up. I prayed to God to send me the bird that makes me feel safe, heard, and protected—a sign that He was listening to me. It had been ages since I had seen my protector bird: the Brahminy Kite!

To my utter surprise, while I was wiping my tears, I sensed the shadow of a flying object passing from behind my back to my left. I looked up, and it was that very bird! It then disappeared into the crown of the greens.

I was deeply moved and couldn't believe my heart's calling and the fulfillment of a promise from the Savior above. My tears stopped. I reflected again on my feelings. I knew I was hurt because my friend was constantly on the phone with her boyfriend; to me, it felt as if no one else mattered to them, or that my presence was just secondary, even though I was the host.

I had to be honest with myself. I asked if it was perhaps jealousy or the discomfort of not having anyone to be involved with at that level of minute-to-minute detail. But I knew in my heart: No! That is definitely not the case with me. I would never be that madly in a relationship—at least not while I am sober! 🙄

I was overwhelmed because I had been in a similar situation a few years back involving a trauma bond. I saw something similar around me where I couldn't extend much help, nor was the other party seeking it. I felt suffocated because my being was unable to process the urge to help, share knowledge, and educate a dear friend.

I was nudged out of my thoughts when my friend hollered my name from downstairs, asking me to come for lunch. I quickly wiped my tears and replied, "Yaaa, coming!"

Before leaving the terrace, I reminded myself that she is my guest and I can drop all my expectations and just be, without any overthinking or getting stuck at an emotional level.

We had a yummy lunch together, and she asked if we could go back to the craft shop to buy another printable canvas diary. I said, "Yes, of course, let’s go."

We went, did a good deal of shopping, and visited a Bata showroom where I met an acquaintance from my plantation drive days. We both laughed at the coincidence, and I later learned that he is the owner of that shop—he even offered me a good discount! We then went to a Chai Point and had a good cup of tea. We chatted, made a list of pending items on my bucket list, and then headed toward home. We had pani puri on our way and visited the decorated, well-lit Devra Kere temple, which was all decked up for the upcoming Vaikuntha Ekadashi.

We both took a long walk and enjoyed the colorful reflection of the lights in the lake water surrounding the temple. We came home, I lit the evening lamp, and she took a shower and packed her luggage as she was leaving at midnight.

We then sat down to make some art, and that's when I could connect back to myself in the most effortless way, with my paintbrush following the rhythm of my heart. ❣️🫰💞

Ek baat jo hothon pe aayi...

Ek baat jo hothon pe aayi...

​An urge to write that couldn't be restrained.

​18 Dec 2025

​I was sitting on the kitchen platform of my family home, watching Dad relax in his chair after dinner. It was that poignant night—the evening before I was to leave for my Karma Bhoomi in the early hours of the morning.

​During our usual chit-chat, Papa asked me an unusual question: "Of all these days, what was the best memory you’ll take back with you? What was the best time you spent at home this time?"

​I was taken aback. I paused to gather my thoughts, my mind zapping through the timeline from December 3rd to the 18th.

​I remembered landing in Bhopal; the surprise visit to my uncle and aunt; the joy of seeing my expecting sister-in-law (their daughter in law). I thought of the shopping trip where I found that perfect traditional dress, and the long wait with my brother for the market to open so he could get his Ascot tie. I laughed inwardly remembering his teasing—how he threatened to introduce me as a "dealer" because of the trunk full of drinks I’d packed for the post-wedding parties.

​I recalled the grand welcome at the wedding house, the glitter of jewelry, and trying on the outfits Mom had lovingly arranged. I remembered the blur of the car ride to the bride’s town, feeling hallucinated by exhaustion from back-to-back travel and work stress.

​The wedding itself was a two-day spectacle of luxury and happy faces, but to me, it felt hollow. Lately, I’ve begun to find that scale of pomp and show meaningless. The essence of two souls coming together is often lost to reels, likes, and an outward showcase of happiness.

​The real magic happened afterward. The party we threw for the groom’s friends and our extended family in a rustic, barn-like setup was incredible. With a bonfire, the peak of winter, and comforting local food, we welcomed the new bride with games and laughter. I felt like a child again because my parents, my brother, and the uncles I grew up with were all there. My heart was full.

​The memories kept coming: the drive back home with Dad, eating crunchy guavas and water chestnuts fresh from the harvest. The twenty-minute train ride to our farm village with Bade Papa. I remembered the open kitchen in that old mansion, cooking with my elderly Grand-uncle and Aunt who live a quiet, retired life. There was a bittersweetness to their story, having moved there after selling their home following a rift with their children.

​I felt proud of the "bucket list" items I checked off: enrolling my aunts and uncles in a naturopathy session to show them that healing is possible through understanding one’s own body. And the family trip to Maheshwar and Omkareshwar—a dream I’d held since last year. I was invited in the Baneshwar Temple (alone) as no one else could jump from the boat, and get to the center island...I felt blessed. I wore my traditional best, we fed the fish in the Narmada, and stayed until the evening laser show. The Aarti at the Ghats felt like a divine blessing.

​I remembered the ride back, with Bade Papa acting as the DJ, playing old songs I might never have discovered if not for him. I thought of our long walk together, and the way his eyes lit up in the dark as he watched videos of his grandkids on loop. My heart cried with gratitude, realizing how much the elderly live on such simple memories.

​Finally, I thought of the quiet morning on the terrace. I had Dad sit in the winter sun for a "therapy session." I asked him to write down every positive adjective that describes him. After years of nagging and the weight of low self-esteem, he needed to see his own goodness. To me, that was the most beautiful moment of the entire trip.

​All of this flashed through my mind in seconds. I looked at Dad, moved by the depth of the last two weeks, and mustered the courage to ask him: "And what about you, Papa? What was your favorite part?"

​He looked at me and simply replied, "This time, your Mom didn't get mad at you like she used to all these years."

​And I went silent.

--

19th Dec 2025, 

At 4:15 am

T...- are you awake now? asked my bade papa, knocking at my closed room door.

Me : Yes!

I quickly got ready to board 5am bus to IDR.

While seeking the blessings before leaving home, my badi mummy chanted Manglik and when I bowed down to them, my bade papa hugged me tight and asked, should I come along?..

I said yes, anytime and for as long as you feel comfortable...fifteen days, a month etc. he smiled and said, no..no...I was asking about coming to the bus stand :)

And they all, My papa, badi mummy and Bade papa came to drop me till the main bus stand...in that chilling winter morning...

I felt happy that a door in all their hearts have open...as they are spontaneous and not always overly overthinking:)

A new few new stories were awaiting me when I reached IDR..

Protective silence ...

Sometimes it's not the pain...

And not even having someone to share with or not!

But, withholding and keeping mum to those - we call our own...

To let them be in peace with the buried truth  and hold that dignity

For them, and may be for the self too... 

 --

~ Just A character.

'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-'-

Gemini (👇) did a wonder job of extracting the exact essences of my bare minimum pointers...

"It isn’t the sting of the wound that keeps me up.  

And it isn't the lack of a shoulder to lean on—I've grown used to my own company.

No, the real weight is the silence.

I look at them across the dinner table, living in a world I’ve kept clean for them, unaware of the rot beneath the floorboards. 

I keep my mouth shut so they can keep their peace. 

I hold that dignity like a shield.

Maybe I do it for them.Or maybe I do it because, if the truth came out, I wouldn’t recognize the person they see when they look at me."

📝

Reverence and closure

While taking one of my barefoot walks, In the nearby garden...

On the ground, I saw a beautiful blue butterfly...

It lay there, beautifully, peaceful and wings folded..

I bend down to lift it up...

In my grip, between the thumb and index, I felt the weightlessness of it

And in my heart; the lifelessness of it.

I asked myself, what drew my attention to it? And what do I associated it with...

Probably I had my answers all along or may be the question was the only answer I needed...

I took the little one in my palms,

Came near to the side of a tiny shrub,

Dug-up a little mud and placed it in the lap of Mother earth.

Bidding it good-bye.

This gesture was a kind of freedom for me...