NihshabdBlog

Category: Nihshabd

  • Dear Younger Human | Nihshabd

    Dear Younger Human | Nihshabd

    What’s the best advice you’d give to someone younger than you?

    Dear younger human,

    Don’t rush to grow up.
    Adulthood is mostly opening the fridge,
    staring into it dramatically,
    and closing it without taking anything.

    .

    Wear the clothes.
    Use the fancy notebook.
    Save some money, yes
    but don’t save your happiness for “someday.”

    .

    Take photos with the people you love.
    One day you’ll zoom in and realize
    the background matters less
    than the faces beside you.

    .

    Don’t waste years trying to be liked by everyone.
    Even pizza has haters,
    and pizza is doing just fine.

    .

    Your mistakes won’t ruin your life.
    They’ll just become funny stories
    you’ll tell with unnecessary hand gestures later.

    .

    Learn to leave places
    where your peace pays the bill
    for someone else’s comfort.

    .

    And please, drink water.
    Half your life problems are emotions,
    the other half is dehydration pretending to be emotions.

    .

    Most importantly

    Stop waiting to become perfect
    before you start living.

    .

    Life isn’t an exam with invigilators.
    It’s more like assembling furniture without instructions—

    confusing, slightly crooked,
    and somehow still useful.

    .

    So laugh often,
    love deeply,
    and remember:

    the adults you admire today
    were once teenagers too—
    equally confused,
    just with less back pain.

    .

    Signed,
    Someone older, wiser,
    and still opening the fridge
    as if a solution to life
    might have appeared since the last visit.

    .

    Still learning, still laughing,
    —Rajeshwari     🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari

  • The Happiness Department | Happiness Myths and Everyday Joy

    The Happiness Department | Happiness Myths and Everyday Joy

    What’s a common misconception people have about happiness

    I used to think happiness was very professional.

    You know…

    The kind that arrives only after reviewing your application.

    “Thank you for your interest in Happiness.”

    “Unfortunately, you do not meet the requirements at this time.”

    Please try again after:

    ☐ Losing weight

    ☐ Making more money

    ☐ Becoming successful

    ☐ Fixing your life

    ☐ Getting your children to answer texts on time

    ☐ Learning how to fold fitted sheets

    So naturally,

    I spent years trying to qualify.

    I made plans.

    Backup plans.

    Emergency backup plans.

    And a few dramatic speeches

    for situations that never actually happened.

    Meanwhile,

    happiness was behaving very irresponsibly.

    It showed up at odd times.

    While eating the last piece of cake.

    While finding money in an old handbag.

    While cancelling plans and staying home.

    Especially while cancelling plans and staying home.

    The strange thing is,

    nobody tells you this.

    They tell you happiness lives in big moments.

    The promotion.

    The dream house.

    The perfect vacation.

    The life-changing achievement.

    And yes,

    those things are wonderful.

    But somehow,

    the happiness from buying a new refrigerator

    lasts about three business days.

    Then you’re standing in the kitchen thinking,

    “Well… now what?”

    Maybe that’s the biggest misconception.

    We think happiness is a permanent resident.

    Turns out,

    it’s more like that friend who drops by unexpectedly,

    makes you laugh,

    steals a biscuit,

    refuses to stay long,

    and leaves before you can ask for a selfie.

    It visits during ridiculous moments.

    A perfectly made cup of tea.

    A joke that shouldn’t be funny but is.

    A song you haven’t heard in years.

    Fresh bedsheets.

    Finding out tomorrow is a holiday.

    Finding out someone else made dinner.

    Now THAT is happiness.

    These days,

    I don’t chase it quite so much.

    Mostly because I’m tired.

    Also because happiness seems to enjoy hide-and-seek.

    The harder I look,

    the faster it runs.

    The moment I stop searching,

    there it is—

    sitting quietly beside me,

    hiding in a good laugh,

    a familiar voice,

    an unexpected free afternoon,

    or a cup of tea that somehow tastes exactly right.

    And perhaps that’s the biggest misconception of all.

    We think happiness is waiting for us somewhere in the future,

    while it keeps waving at us from the present.

    So tell me, dear friends…

    What is one small thing that made you smile recently?

    Not the big achievements.

    Not the life-changing moments.

    Just something simple.

    A phone call from someone you love.

    A favourite song playing unexpectedly.

    A warm cup of tea on a quiet afternoon.

    Holding hands with the person who makes your heart purr.

    Listening to the giggles, laughter, and mischief of children filling the house with life.

    Or a furry little companion who greets you as though you’ve returned from a year-long expedition, when in reality you only stepped out for ten minutes.

    Maybe happiness isn’t hiding in extraordinary moments after all.

    Maybe it’s tucked inside these little everyday moments that ask for nothing except to be noticed.

    I’d love to hear about one of yours. 💛✨

    .

    Leaving you with a little happiness today,
    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕🦋

    .

    While writing this, I was reminded of another thought that has stayed with me for a long time: we often spend so much energy searching for meaning that we forget to notice the magic already sitting beside us.

    The Garden Within: A Letter to My 20-Year-Old Self

    A Little Bit of Magic Called Life

    For Every Woman Who Forgot Her Spark✨

  • Winter, My Favorite Season… and My Biggest Enabler 🤭❄️

    Winter, My Favorite Season… and My Biggest Enabler 🤭❄️

    What is your favorite season of year? Why?

    Winter has always been my favorite season. There is something special about warm cups of tea, cozy blankets, gentle sunshine, and those lazy mornings when getting out of bed feels like a heroic achievement. This funny and relatable winter poem is a lighthearted celebration of everything we love—and occasionally complain about—during the cold season.

    If seasons were teachers,

    summer would be that strict one
    who keeps giving homework.

    Monsoon would be the dramatic one
    who changes the mood every five minutes.

    But winter?

    Winter would be the teacher who walks in,
    puts on a movie,
    and says,

    “Let’s not work too hard today.”

    Naturally, it’s my favorite. 😌

    Winter never judges me.

    It sees me wrapped in a blanket at noon
    holding a cup of tea
    and says,

    “Honestly, that’s reasonable.”

    And I appreciate that kind of support.

    The best thing about winter
    is how it changes ordinary things.

    Tea becomes an emotion.

    A blanket becomes a lifestyle.

    And sunshine?

    Sunshine becomes a limited-edition luxury item.

    People will cross entire rooms,
    move chairs,
    and rotate themselves like sunflowers
    just to sit in one perfect patch of warmth.

    For those few minutes,
    life feels completely under control. ☀️

    Then comes the morning.

    The alarm rings.

    I open one eye.

    The room is cold.

    The blanket is warm.

    And suddenly I’m forced to choose
    between ambition and happiness.

    It’s not an easy decision.

    Winter also has a special talent.

    It can make a grown adult
    stare at a bucket of water
    and reconsider every life choice
    that brought them to that moment. 😭

    But the real problem is this—

    Winter starts out adorable.

    Cute sweaters.

    Foggy mornings.

    Hot tea.

    Cozy evenings.

    Everything feels like a scene
    from a feel-good movie.

    Then winter gets overconfident.

    One morning it wakes up and decides,

    “Let’s see how much they really love me.”

    Now the floor feels like ice.

    The water feels personally offended.

    And my teeth begin communicating
    in Morse code. 😂

    Yet somehow,

    every year,

    I fall for winter again.

    Because no other season
    makes doing absolutely nothing
    feel so productive.

    No other season
    makes a blanket feel like home.

    And no other season
    can convince me that sitting in the sun
    with a cup of tea
    is a perfectly successful day.

    So yes,

    winter is my favorite season.

    Not because it’s perfect.

    But because it understands
    that sometimes happiness is simply

    a warm cup of tea,

    a cozy blanket,

    a little sunshine,

    and absolutely no intention
    of getting out of bed. 🤭❄️☕

    Winter and I have a beautiful relationship—

    I praise it in poems,

    and it tests that love
    every morning. 😆✨

    .

    Perhaps that is why winter remains my favorite season year after year. It reminds us to slow down, enjoy simple comforts, and find happiness in ordinary moments. A warm drink, a cozy blanket, a patch of sunshine, and a little extra sleep can sometimes feel like life’s greatest luxuries.

    .

    Wrapped in words and winter sunshine,
    —Rajeshwari     ❄️🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • 🎵 My Mood Manager Has a Playlist

    🎵 My Mood Manager Has a Playlist

    What’s a song that always puts you in a good mood?

    .

    Honestly, that’s a difficult question.

    .

    It’s like asking a tea lover to pick one favorite cup,
    or a bookworm to choose just one page.

    .

    I love songs.

    Happy songs.
    Then come the sad ones.
    Sometimes old songs.
    And often new ones.

    Songs I understand.
    Songs I confidently sing wrong.

    .

    .

    Some songs make me dance in the kitchen.
    Some turn traffic jams into music videos.
    Some convince me I have a surprisingly good voice.

    .

    (For the record, the neighbors may disagree.)

    .

    Whenever life feels a little too serious,
    a favorite song appears like an unpaid therapist.

    .

    No appointment.
    No paperwork.
    No judgment.

    .

    Just three minutes of:

    “Everything will be fine.
    Now sing the chorus.”

    .My Playlist Works in Shifts

    .

    The funny thing is,
    the song that always puts you in a good mood
    is not necessarily the same song every day.

    .

    My playlist changes more often
    than my password.

    .

    One day it’s an energetic anthem.
    The next day it’s an old melody
    that suddenly reminds me of absolutely nothing
    and somehow everything.

    .

    So, do I have a song that always puts me in a good mood?

    .

    No.

    .

    Choosing just one would be unfair.

    .

    Every song in my playlist has a job.
    Some make me smile.
    Others make me dance.
    A few remind me who I am.

    .

    And when life starts acting like a complicated drama,

    I simply press Play.

    Because while I can’t always change my mood,

    I can usually change the soundtrack.

    Maybe that is the real answer to the question,
    “What’s a song that always puts you in a good mood?”

    .

    It is whichever song meets you exactly where you are
    and gently takes you somewhere better.

    .

    And somehow, the soundtrack changes everything. 🎵✨

    Life may not come with a manual, but thankfully it comes with a playlist. 🎶😊

    .

    With love,

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • NIHSHABD (Beginnings Moving with Fear, Choosing to Begin)

    NIHSHABD (Beginnings Moving with Fear, Choosing to Begin)

    What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?

    What’s the thing I’m most scared to do?

    Almost… everything.

    I’m an introvert.

    Fear isn’t a rare emotion for me

    it’s a regular visitor.

    Doesn’t knock. Just walks in.

    Speaking up? Scary.

    Starting something new? Terrifying.

    “What will people think?”

    That fear comes with a lifetime subscription.

    I’m like a pretty little plant

    that flinches even in sunlight,

    yet somehow keeps growing

    because not growing was never really an option.

    The funny part?

    The very things I try to run from,

    life places right in front of me

    no warning, no choice.

    “Here. You have to do this.”

    And every time I think,

    Should I run?

    Hide?

    Disappear into a corner where nobody will find me?

    And I ask myself,

    What would it take to get me to do it?

    But then… something happens.

    A tiny initiative.

    The smallest beginning.

    Hands shaking, heart racing

    yet one step forward anyway.

    Yes, people judge.

    And yes, I judge myself even more.

    But somewhere inside that fear

    lives something rare

    like a diamond hidden inside a difficult stone.

    Quiet. Precious. Real.

    I’m not fearless.

    I’m just moving

    with fear beside me,

    with love in my pocket,

    and a little sense of humour to survive.

    Maybe courage isn’t about being brave at all.

    Maybe it’s about existing,

    and still choosing to begin.

    “A clenched human fist breaking through cracked stone, holding a glowing diamond, symbolising quiet courage and inner strength, with the text ‘Quiet Courage’ and a quote about moving forward with fear, love, humour, and Nihshabd.”
    “Courage doesn’t shout; it moves anyway”

    —Rajeshwari 💕

  • Read this if you feel nothing

    Read this if you feel nothing

    She is not lost.

    She is only folded gently inside herself,

    like a letter kept safe for the right moment.

    She laughs in fragments,

    in between responsibilities,

    in small pauses no one notices.

    Her smile still knows its way home.

    There is music in the way she moves,

    even when she calls it routine.

    There is poetry in her presence,

    even when she believes she is ordinary.

    She carries light without announcing it.

    She softens rooms without trying.

    What feels effortless to her

    is rare to the world.

    Somewhere within her

    Not to become someone new,

    is a woman who dances without reason,

    who speaks without hesitation,

    who lives without asking if it is allowed.

    That woman has not disappeared.

    She has been waiting, patiently

    for recognition, not permission.

    One day, gently,

    she will unfold herself.

    but to remember who she has always been.

    —Rajeshwari 💕

    If this stayed with you, you may leave a trace below.

  • She learned to stay quiet.

    She learned to stay quiet.

    Not because she lacked words,

    but because her feelings were often treated

    as something to manage, not understand.

    She learned that softness

    is frequently mistaken for weakness.

    That asking questions invites judgment.

    That silence can feel easier

    than constantly explaining herself.

    As a girl, she carried things inward

    fears she couldn’t name,

    confusion she was told to ignore,

    emotions she was asked to regulate

    before she truly understood them.

    As a woman, she learned to carry more.

    To love deeply without guarantees.

    To remain composed

    even when her inner world felt unsteady.

    She has flaws.

    She overthinks.

    She feels intensely.

    She doubts herself on quiet days

    when no one sees how much effort it takes to stay standing.

    And still

    she shows up.

    She does the best she can

    with what she has,

    right where she is.

    Wherever she goes,

    she brings something subtle yet powerful

    her presence,

    her warmth,

    her quiet resilience.

    She may not always feel confident,

    but she moves with grace.

    She may not always feel certain,

    but she keeps choosing forward motion.

    She smiles not because life is gentle,

    but because hope is a practice she returns to.

    Again and again.

    There are truths women don’t speak of.

    Not due to a lack of strength,

    but because silence sometimes protects

    more than words ever could.

    Fear, love, embarrassment, longing

    they coexist,

    woven into the same heart.

    This space is for that quiet power.

    For the charm she never announces.

    For the aura she carries effortlessly.

    For the woman who keeps becoming,

    even when no one is watching.

    “If this spoke to you, you’re welcome to sit with it for a while. Some stories don’t ask to be answered — only held.”