Category: Memories

Fictional Characters | Two Extra Chairs for My Childhood

If you could have dinner with any fictional character, who would it be?

If I could have dinner with any fictional characters, I wouldn’t choose a wizard, a detective, or a king.

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I would choose Nagraj and Super Commando Dhruva.

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Not because they were superheroes.

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But because they quietly became a part of my childhood.

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For children growing up in the 80s and 90s, comics weren’t just something we read. They were an emotion. A new Raj Comics release could make an ordinary week feel extraordinary. There were no online stores, no instant deliveries, and certainly no digital copies waiting on our phones.

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There was only hope… and patience.

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Every visit to the stationery shop began with the same question, “Bhaiya, nayi comic aayi kya?” Sometimes he’d smile and hand us a fresh copy. Other times came the heartbreaking reply, “Kal aana.”

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And somehow… we actually believed tomorrow would arrive faster.

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Buying every comic wasn’t an option for most of us, so we created our own little library of friendships. We borrowed comics from cousins, exchanged them with neighbours, and waited our turn like it was the most important appointment in the world. If someone got the latest Nagraj before us, we practically counted the hours until they finished reading it.

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Those comics travelled through many hands before reaching ours. The covers became soft, the corners folded, and sometimes a page carried someone’s name scribbled in blue ink. None of it mattered. The adventure inside was still as magical as ever.

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Those fictional characters didn’t simply defeat villains. They defeated boring summer afternoons, power cuts, lazy Sundays, and endless holidays. Nagraj made impossible things seem possible. Dhruva proved that intelligence, courage, and compassion could be superpowers too.

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I still remember reading under a blanket with a torch long after everyone thought I had gone to sleep. “Just one more page,” I’d promise myself. One page became ten, and before I knew it, the adventure was over… leaving me desperate for the next issue.

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We argued over who was stronger. We imagined crossovers that never happened. We became heroes in our own games, saving imaginary worlds before dinner was served.

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Looking back, I don’t miss just the comics.

I miss the waiting.

I miss the excitement of spotting a brand-new issue on the shelf.

I miss the joy of exchanging comics with friends as if we were trading priceless treasures.

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Most of all, I miss that little child who believed every story with all her heart.

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So if I could have dinner with any fictional characters, my table would have two extra chairs—one for Nagraj and one for Super Commando Dhruva.

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Not because I want to know how they saved the world.

But because I want to thank them for making mine so unforgettable.

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Until the next whisper…
—Rajeshwari 🧿💕

© Nihshabd by Rajeshwari

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P.S. Please ignore the clock. It has clearly been reading Raj Comics all night and has completely lost track of time! 😂

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READ MORE :What Villain Actually Had a Good Point? Maybe It Was Mogambo

July 24, 2026
Women & Their Tiny Emotional Treasures

What personal belongings do you hold most dear?

Women get emotionally attached to the strangest things. ✨

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An old receipt tucked inside a book.
A dried flower saved between pages for years.
A dupatta that still smells like home.
Tiny notes, movie tickets, gift wrappers, empty perfume bottles “just because,” and boxes filled with memories nobody else would understand. 😭

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And of course… those clothes that no longer fit but are still hanging safely in the cupboard because “what if I lose weight someday?” 🫣
Every woman has at least one outfit she refuses to give away out of pure hope, delusion, and emotional attachment. 😭

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Some clothes stay in our cupboards
not because they fit our bodies anymore…
but because they still fit a version of us we’re not ready to let go of. ✨

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To the rest of the world, it may look like clutter.
But women rarely keep things for their price.
They keep them for the feelings attached to them.

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A simple object becomes a memory.
A memory becomes comfort.
And comfort quietly becomes impossible to throw away.

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Women have a beautiful habit of turning ordinary things
into emotional time machines. 🤍

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Some women keep their mother’s sarees like inherited pieces of love.
Some keep old letters they pretend they don’t read anymore.
Some keep clothes from happier days,
hoping the feelings stitched into them never fade completely. ✨

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And somehow every little thing carries a story:
who they were,
who they loved,
what they survived,
what they lost,
and what they still secretly miss. ✨

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Women are funny that way.
They can throw away logic in two seconds…
but will protect a tiny meaningless object for ten years because “it feels special.” 😭🤍

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Maybe that’s the beauty of women.
They don’t just live life.
They preserve it softly in corners, drawers, books, fabrics, scents, and silent little treasures the world would never notice.

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Women don’t collect things… they collect little pieces of their hearts. ✨

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—Rajeshwari 🧿💕

© Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

May 23, 2026
From Stamps to Memories ✨

Do you have any collections?

Do You Have Any Collections?

I used to collect stamps once.
Tiny rectangles carrying countries I had never seen,
languages I could not read,
and kings, birds, flowers, mountains, and histories I knew nothing about.

Then came coins.

Old coins. Shiny coins. Foreign coins.
Coins with holes in them.
Coins that looked more valuable than my entire personality in school.

Back then, finding one unusual coin felt like discovering treasure.
Now I lose ₹10 coins inside sofa cushions and emotionally move on.

Somewhere between growing up and paying bills,
my collections disappeared quietly.

The albums are gone.
The little plastic folders vanished.
Even the excitement of asking relatives,
“Do you have any old stamps?”
has retired respectfully.

But maybe we never really stop collecting things.

We simply change what we collect.

Now I collect screenshots I’ll never revisit.
Saved reels I’ll never watch again.
Travel tickets folded inside books.
Receipts from cafés because “the paper looked aesthetic.”
Unread books.
Half-finished notebooks.
Memories from random rainy evenings.
And conversations that should have meant less… but didn’t.

Adulthood is honestly just becoming a curator of emotionally unnecessary things.

And somehow, the weirdest collections are always invisible.

We collect people’s words.
Certain songs.
Specific smells from childhood.
Tiny heartbreaks.
Almost-confessions.
Moments where we laughed too hard in the middle of ordinary days.

No shelf displays them.
Yet they occupy the most space.

And maybe that’s why old collections feel so precious today —
because they remind us of a version of ourselves
who found magic in tiny things.

A coin.
A stamp.
A sticker.
A postcard.

Little objects… carrying entire worlds.

✦ Poem ✦

I once kept stamps in careful rows,
like little doors to distant roads;
and coins inside a velvet tin,
as if they held the world within.

Now drawers are filled with stranger things —
old movie tickets, broken rings,
receipts from cafés, faded notes,
and passwords nobody even wrote.

We grow, and so our collections do;
less about objects, more about who.
A laugh, a face, a fleeting day,
the kind that never fully fades away.

And isn’t it funny, strange, yet true —
the older we get, the more we pursue
small little moments we cannot hold…
while missing the treasures we once called gold. ✨

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Some collections leave albums…some stay in the heart forever. ✨

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With love,

—Rajeshwari 🧿💕

© Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

May 22, 2026
The Kind of Happiness That Lives on Highways

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Daily writing prompt
How do you plan the perfect road trip?
View all responses

(A highly professional guide written by someone emotionally attached to highways and roadside chai)

There is a special kind of confidence that appears before every road trip.

The kind where we say things like:
“We’ll pack light.”
“We won’t spend unnecessarily.”
“We’ll sleep early.”
And my personal favorite—
“We’ll stop only once.”

Three hours later, the car is full of chips, six water bottles, random chargers, mystery bags nobody remembers packing, unlimited munching supplies, and someone is already asking:

“Kitna aur time lagega?”

And honestly?
That is exactly how a perfect road trip begins.

Because road trips are never just about reaching somewhere.
They are about becoming slightly unhinged together on highways with bad network and excellent scenery.

They begin with playlists nobody agrees on.

One person wants old Bollywood songs.
Another suddenly becomes an international DJ.
Someone plays sad songs while everyone else is eating sandwiches aggressively at 90 km/h.

Meanwhile Google Maps calmly says:
“You are on the fastest route,”
while leading us directly into roads that look abandoned since 1987.

But still…
nothing feels more alive than sitting beside a window while the breeze messes up your hair, butterflies fly past the fields, clouds slowly gather above the mountains, and an entire sunset quietly follows your car.

Road trips somehow turn ordinary moments into lifelong memories.

The chai tastes better.
Maggi at a random hill station becomes a five-star meal.
Even badly clicked blurry pictures suddenly feel cinematic later.

And then come the random stops.

Stops that were never part of the plan.

A roadside tea stall.
Fresh pakoras during rain.
Tiny cafés hidden between highways.
Local food from places nobody can pronounce properly.

Because somehow the best memories are always made at places we never planned to stop at.

And then come the conversations.

Those nonstop, sleep-deprived, deeply unnecessary conversations.

From childhood stories…
to conspiracy theories…
to “what if we buy land in the mountains and disappear forever?”

Road trips make philosophers out of exhausted people.

But planning a perfect road trip is not only vibes and aesthetic sunsets.

There are two kinds of travelers:

The “Let’s just go with the flow” people.
And the responsible adults carrying:

— first aid kit
— medicines
— power banks
— offline maps
— emergency cash
— torch
— tissues
— extra clothes
— snacks for emotional emergencies
— and enough plastic bags to survive a natural disaster.

Honestly, the real hero of every trip is the person who says:
“Keep the medicines with you… just in case.”

Because somewhere between beautiful highways and loud laughter, safety matters too.

Seatbelts matter.
Rest breaks matter.
Checking the car before leaving matters.
Hydration matters.
And not driving while sleepy definitely matters.

Adventure feels better when everyone reaches home safely.

And maybe that is why I love road trips so much.

Because they are messy.
Unpredictable.
Overpacked.
Loud.
Beautiful.

Full of excitement.
Full of detours.
Full of exploring places that once existed only as tiny dots on maps.

A road trip does not ask life to be perfect.

It only asks you to roll down the windows a little more…
play that favorite song again…
take one more random stop…
eat one more unnecessary snack…
laugh a little louder…
and keep moving forward while the sky changes colors beside you.

Somewhere between the roads, the rain, the tea stalls, the scenic views, the butterflies, the local food, the unlimited munching, the giggles, the wrong turns, and the endless conversations…

you quietly realize:

sometimes happiness does not look like a destination.

Sometimes it simply looks like
a long road ahead,
cool breeze through the windows,
your favorite people beside you,
absolutely no tension in your heart,
and the beautiful feeling of being far away from the world for a little while…

just exploring, enjoying, and feeling alive in between the roads. ✨

Some happiness cannot stay in one place.
It only lives on highways. ✨

With love,

—Rajeshwari 🧿💕

© Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

May 21, 2026