Tag: Nihshabd journal

  • A Blank Canvas and a Blank Page

    A Blank Canvas and a Blank Page

    What are you passionate about?

    Have you ever had one of those days when your mind feels so full that you don’t know what to do with all the thoughts bouncing around inside it?

    .

    I have.

    When Thoughts Become Art

    I

    A Blank Canvas and a Blank Page have always been my answer to those moments. When my thoughts become too loud, I either write them down or bring them to life through digital illustration.

    .

    Sometimes my thoughts become stories.

    Sometimes they become illustrations.

    .

    And that’s why, if someone asks me what I’m passionate about, my answer is simple: creating.

    .

    Not because I’m exceptionally talented.

    Not because I’m trying to become famous.

    .

    But because creating helps me make sense of the noise in my head.

    .

    A Blank Canvas and a Blank Page

    .

    For me, a blank page and a blank canvas are surprisingly similar.

    .

    Most people see emptiness.

    I see possibilities.

    .

    Of course, there are days when both of them seem determined to test my patience.

    .

    I stare at the screen.

    The screen stares back.

    Neither of us knows who’s supposed to make the first move.

    .

    Writers call it writer’s block.

    Artists call it creative block.

    I call it a staring contest that I usually lose.

    But every now and then, something magical happens.

    .

    A sentence appears.

    A sketch takes shape.

    An idea that existed only in my imagination suddenly becomes real.

    And that feeling never gets old.

    .

    What I love most about writing and digital illustration isn’t the finished result.

    .

    It’s the process.

    .

    The quiet excitement of starting with absolutely nothing and ending up with something that didn’t exist before.

    .

    A story.

    A character.

    A thought.

    .

    A little piece of yourself left behind on a page or a canvas.

    .

    In a world where we’re constantly consuming things, creating something feels special.

    .

    In fact, I wrote something similar in my post Creative Chaos & Quiet Feelings ✨😄, where I reflected on how creativity often grows in life’s quiet moments.

    .

    It reminds us that our imagination still matters.

    .

    So yes, I’m passionate about writing.

    .

    I’m passionate about digital illustration.

    But more than that, I’m passionate about creating.

    .

    Because every blank page and every blank canvas holds the same question:

    .

    What will you bring to life today?

    .

    And perhaps that’s why I keep returning to both.

    Not because I’m searching for perfection.

    But because I’m always curious about what might happen when imagination is given a place to breathe.

    .

    What about you? What are you passionate about?

    .

    Until our thoughts meet again,

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • Why Do We Miss People Who Never Chose Us?

    Why Do We Miss People Who Never Chose Us?

    The Question That Hurts More Than We Admit

    There is a particular kind of sadness that doesn’t come from losing someone.

    It comes from never truly having them in the first place.

    Strangely, some of the people we miss the most were never ours.

    They never chose us.

    They never stayed.

    They never made us a priority.

    Yet years later, their memory can still appear without warning.

    A song.

    A place.

    A familiar phrase.

    And suddenly, they’re back in our thoughts.

    Why?

    Why do we miss people who never chose us?


    Maybe We Don’t Miss Them

    At least, not entirely.

    Sometimes we miss the version of them we created in our minds.

    The version that would finally understand us.

    The version that would stay.

    The version that would choose us if only the timing had been different.

    However, reality and imagination rarely tell the same story.

    Often, we are grieving a possibility rather than a person.

    A future that never happened.

    A conversation that never took place.

    A love story that existed mostly in our hopes.


    The Human Mind Hates Unfinished Stories

    We like endings.

    We like answers.

    We like certainty.

    Unfortunately, life does not always provide those things.

    Some people leave without explanation.

    Others slowly drift away.

    And a few never arrive at all.

    As a result, the mind keeps revisiting what it cannot resolve.

    We replay conversations.

    We imagine different outcomes.

    We wonder what might have happened if we had said one thing differently.

    Not because the person was perfect.

    But because the story never felt complete.


    Rejection Leaves a Different Kind of Scar

    Being unloved hurts.

    Yet being almost loved can hurt even more.

    When someone never chooses us, we often turn the rejection inward.

    We begin asking difficult questions.

    “What was wrong with me?”

    “Why wasn’t I enough?”

    “What did they see in someone else that they didn’t see in me?”

    Gradually, the loss stops being about them.

    It becomes about our worth.

    And that is where the real pain begins.


    The Truth We Rarely Want to Hear

    Sometimes people do not choose us for reasons that have nothing to do with our value.

    They may be looking for something different.

    They may be emotionally unavailable.

    They may simply be on a different path.

    Their choice is not always a verdict on our worth.

    Yet we often treat it as one.

    We carry their decision far longer than they ever carried us.


    What We Actually Miss

    Perhaps we do not miss the person.

    Perhaps we miss the hope.

    The excitement.

    The possibility.

    The feeling that our story might finally be changing.

    And when that possibility disappears, we mourn it.

    Not because it was real.

    But because it felt real.


    Choosing Yourself

    One of the hardest lessons in life is accepting that not everyone will choose us.

    No matter how kind we are.

    No matter how loyal we are.

    No matter how deeply we care.

    However, there is another lesson hidden inside that pain.

    If someone could not choose us, we can still choose ourselves.

    We can stop measuring our worth through someone else’s decision.

    We can stop treating rejection as proof that we are lacking.

    And we can finally stop waiting for validation from people who never intended to give it.


    A Question For You

    Have you ever found yourself missing someone who never truly chose you?

    If so, what do you think you actually missed?

    The person?

    Or the possibility of what could have been?

    I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

    Because sometimes the stories that hurt us most are the ones that never really began.

    Until the next quiet thought,
    —Rajeshwari
    🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • 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

  • Soft Enough to Care, Strong Enough to Endure

    Soft Enough to Care, Strong Enough to Endure

    If humans had taglines, what would yours be?

    If humans had taglines, what would yours be?

    I thought about this question for a while.

    At first, I considered something clever. Then I thought about choosing something funny. After all, who doesn’t love a tagline that makes people smile?

    However, the more I reflected on it, the more I realized that the words that describe me best are simple:

    “Soft enough to care, strong enough to endure.”

    It may not sound dramatic. Yet it feels true.

    Because if life has taught me anything, it is that softness and strength are not opposites. In fact, they often live side by side.

    The Heart That Cares Too Much

    I have always been someone who cares deeply.

    I care about people.

    I care about words.

    I care about feelings.

    Sometimes I even care about conversations long after everyone else has forgotten them.

    If a friend is hurting, I feel it.

    If someone is struggling, I want to help.

    And if I accidentally send a message that sounds slightly awkward, I can replay it in my mind for days like it deserves an award for Best Dramatic Performance.

    It is both a gift and a challenge.

    On one hand, caring allows us to connect with others. It helps us show kindness, compassion, and understanding.

    On the other hand, caring too much can leave us emotionally exhausted.

    Nevertheless, I would rather have a soft heart than a closed one.

    Softness Is Not Weakness

    For a long time, the world seemed to suggest that strength meant being tough all the time.

    Don’t cry.

    Don’t feel too much.

    Don’t let people see your struggles.

    However, real life has shown me something completely different.

    A flower is soft, yet it survives storms.

    A river is gentle, yet it can carve through stone.

    Likewise, a woman can be compassionate and powerful at the same time.

    She can speak kindly while standing firmly in her truth.

    She can forgive without forgetting her worth.

    She can be gentle without allowing herself to be treated poorly.

    That is not weakness.

    That is strength wearing a softer face.

    My Unexpected Superpowers

    When people imagine strength, they often picture grand achievements.

    Meanwhile, I have discovered a different kind of strength.

    The strength to keep going after disappointment.

    The strength to smile through difficult days.

    The strength to begin again when things do not go as planned.

    And, perhaps most impressively, the strength to survive technology updates without accidentally changing every setting on my phone.

    Honestly, that alone deserves recognition.

    Life has also given me another unusual superpower.

    I can encourage other people while still trying to figure things out myself.

    Many women do this every day.

    They carry responsibilities, support loved ones, solve problems, and keep moving forward even when nobody notices how much they are carrying.

    If that is not magic, I do not know what is.

    When My Wings Feel Heavy

    Of course, there are days when I do not feel strong.

    There are days when my confidence decides to disappear.

    There are days when my patience quietly packs its bags and leaves without warning.

    And there are days when even the smallest challenge feels bigger than it should.

    During those moments, I remind myself of something important.

    Strength is not the absence of struggle.

    Strength is continuing despite the struggle.

    A bird does not wait for perfect weather before using its wings.

    Similarly, we do not need perfect circumstances to keep moving forward.

    Sometimes we simply need courage for one more step.

    Then another.

    And another.

    Love Makes Us Stronger

    One lesson I continue to learn is that love creates resilience.

    Love for family.

    Love for friends.

    Love for our dreams.

    And perhaps most importantly, love for ourselves.

    Because when we learn to value ourselves, we stop measuring our worth through the opinions of others.

    Instead, we begin to trust our own voice.

    As a result, we become stronger without becoming harder.

    We become wiser without becoming colder.

    And we become more confident without losing our kindness.

    That balance is beautiful.

    The Magic of Being Human

    I do not possess magical powers.

    I cannot fly.

    I cannot read minds.

    And unfortunately, I cannot make laundry fold itself.

    However, I do believe there is a little magic in every human heart.

    It appears when we choose kindness over bitterness.

    It appears when we offer hope during difficult times.

    It appears when we continue to believe in better days even after disappointment.

    Most importantly, it appears when we refuse to let life’s challenges change the goodness within us.

    That kind of magic matters.

    My Tagline, My Truth

    So if humans had taglines, mine would be:

    “Soft enough to care, strong enough to endure.”

    Because I believe caring is a strength.

    I believe kindness is powerful.

    And I believe resilience does not always have to roar.

    Sometimes it speaks softly.

    Sometimes it laughs through tears.

    Sometimes it spreads slightly crooked wings and keeps flying anyway.

    That is the kind of strength I admire.

    And perhaps, that is the kind of strength I hope to carry through life.

    Not perfect.

    Not fearless.

    Just soft enough to care, and strong enough to endure. ❤️✨

    With love,
    Rajeshwari 🧿💕

  • Someday, Maybe: Things I’d Love to See in the Future✨

    Someday, Maybe: Things I’d Love to See in the Future✨

    Daily writing prompt
    What’s something you’d love to see in the future, but know you probably won’t live to witness?

    Things I’d Love to See in the Future.

    Some are serious. Some are silly. A few are probably impossible. But if we’re allowed to dream, we might as well dream generously.

    .

    The Little Things I’d Love to See in the Future

    I’d love to see a password
    that works on the first try.

    Not the second.
    Not after three failed attempts,
    an OTP,
    a security question,
    and a mild identity crisis.

    The first try.

    I’d love to finish reading
    all the books I already own.

    A charming fantasy.

    Right up there with unicorns,
    world peace,
    and empty laundry baskets.

    I’d love a gadget
    that tells me why I walked into a room.

    Because the room remembers.

    The fan remembers.

    The chair remembers.

    Only I don’t.

    I’d love family gatherings
    where nobody asks,
    “So, what’s next?”

    What’s next is tea.

    After that,
    more tea.

    I thought this was obvious.

    I’d love my plants
    to stop communicating
    through dramatic leaf-dropping performances.

    One tiny mistake
    and suddenly they’re staging
    a botanical protest.

    .

    The Bigger Dreams I’d Love to See in the Future

    I’d love to see a world
    where a child’s future
    isn’t measured differently
    because one is a boy
    and the other is a girl.

    The same respect.
    The same opportunities.
    The same sky.

    Surely that’s not too much to ask.

    I’d love to see people
    stop comparing their lives
    with everyone else’s.

    Half the world’s unhappiness
    comes from peeking over fences.

    The other half
    comes from social media.

    I’d love to see the day
    when “enough”
    finally feels enough.

    Not because ambition disappears.

    But because gratitude
    finally gets a turn to speak.

    And then…

    .

    One Last Impossible Wish

    I’d love to witness
    the greatest miracle of all.

    A perfectly folded fitted bedsheet.

    No confusion.

    No wrestling match.

    No YouTube tutorial.

    Just one calm human being
    holding a neat rectangle of fabric
    and behaving as if this is completely normal.

    Will I live long enough
    to see all these things?

    Probably not.

    But then again,
    I once believed
    I’d stop buying books
    when I retired.

    So it’s fair to say

    my forecasting record
    is not particularly impressive.

    .

    With love,

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • For Every Woman Who Forgot Her Spark✨

    For Every Woman Who Forgot Her Spark✨

    Don’t Lose the Spark

    Somewhere between growing up
    and holding everything together,
    many of us learned a strange lesson—

    How to be responsible,
    but not how to stay alive inside.

    We learned to answer messages,
    meet deadlines,
    pay bills,
    carry burdens.

    But slowly, without noticing,

    we stopped laughing so hard our stomach hurt.

    We stopped dancing in the kitchen.

    We stopped doing things simply because they made us happy.

    The world applauds the woman who sacrifices herself for everyone.

    Rarely does it applaud the woman who refuses to disappear.

    So this is your reminder:

    The spark was never childish.

    The spark was never foolish.

    The spark was you.

    It was the part of you that believed life was meant to be lived,
    not merely survived.

    The part that laughed too loudly,
    dreamed too boldly,
    loved too deeply.

    Please don’t trade her away
    for acceptance.

    Don’t bury her beneath expectations.

    And don’t confuse exhaustion with maturity.

    Because one day you’ll realize—

    The most beautiful thing about you was never your perfection.

    It was that wild, glowing, unapologetic light
    that made people feel warmer just by standing near you.

    So wear the bright lipstick.

    Take the silly photo.

    Laugh at your own joke.

    Start again.

    Be too much for people who prefer less.

    And if anyone tells you to dim your light,

    smile and let them wear sunglasses.

    The world doesn’t need another woman who fits in.
    It desperately needs the one who remembers who she is.
    ✨🖤

    With love,

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • Childhood Memories I Had Forgotten

    Childhood Memories I Had Forgotten

    Daily writing prompt
    What’s a moment in your life that felt like it was straight out of a movie?

    “What’s a moment in your life that felt like it was straight out of a movie?”

    Some of my most cherished childhood memories are tangled up with a cousin who spent his vacation doing little more than annoying me.

    If someone had told my younger self that one day I’d be writing fondly about those few chaotic days of teasing, silly games, and endless arguments, I would have laughed in disbelief. Back then, I was convinced he had made it his personal mission to test my patience.

    Yet years later, those ordinary moments would return in the most unexpected way.

    For me, it wasn’t a dramatic adventure.

    There was no rain-soaked confession, no missed train, and certainly no slow-motion scene with emotional music playing in the background.

    Instead, it began years ago when a far-off cousin came to stay at our house for a few days.

    At least, that was the plan.

    Those few days felt much longer because he seemed to have only one goal—to annoy me whenever possible.

    If we played a game, he turned it into a competition.

    If I said something, he found a way to tease me about it.

    If I got irritated, he considered it a personal victory.

    Naturally, the rest of the family found all of this hilarious.

    Every little argument became a source of entertainment.

    Everyone laughed.

    Everyone enjoyed the show.

    Everyone except me.

    The Childhood Memories That Slowly Faded

    Eventually, he went back home and life moved on.

    As it always does.

    School happened.

    Exams happened.

    Responsibilities happened.

    Some friendships faded, new ones appeared, and without realizing it, I grew up.

    Those few days became one of many memories stored somewhere in the back of my mind.

    Not forgotten.

    Just buried beneath years of newer experiences.

    Like old photographs sitting quietly in a dusty box.

    You know they’re there.

    You just don’t think about them very often.

    And honestly, if someone had asked me about that time, I probably would have remembered only the broad outline of the story.

    A cousin.

    Some games.

    A lot of teasing.

    The end.

    Or so I thought.

    The Conversation That Felt Like a Movie Scene

    Many years later, we met again.

    We started talking about old times.

    Nothing unusual.

    Just one of those conversations where people casually wander into the past.

    Then something unexpected happened.

    He started recalling things.

    Tiny things.

    The games we used to play.

    The silly arguments we had.

    The ridiculous things we fought about.

    The funny habits I had back then.

    One memory followed another.

    Then another.

    Then another.

    Meanwhile, I sat there wondering if he had secretly maintained an archive of my childhood.

    Because I barely remembered half of what he was talking about.

    Yet he recalled those moments as if they had happened yesterday.

    And that was when it happened.

    The movie moment.

    Not outside.

    Inside my head.

    It felt as though someone had switched on an old projector hidden in a forgotten corner of my mind.

    One dusty scene after another flickered back to life.

    The house.

    The laughter.

    The endless teasing.

    The games with rules nobody remembers anymore.

    The arguments that seemed incredibly important when we were children and completely ridiculous now.

    For a few minutes, the years disappeared.

    And I wasn’t remembering a story.

    I was stepping back into it.

    Why the Smallest Memories Stay

    What surprised me wasn’t that he remembered those moments.

    It was realizing how many of them I had forgotten.

    As children, we think the important memories will be birthdays, celebrations, and major milestones.

    But years later, it is often the smallest things that survive.

    The inside jokes.

    The silly nicknames.

    The pointless arguments.

    The games invented on lazy afternoons.

    The people who drove us absolutely crazy.

    Somehow, those are the memories that quietly stay behind.

    Waiting.

    Final Thoughts

    When people imagine moments that feel straight out of a movie, they often think of grand events and dramatic turning points.

    But I think the most cinematic moments are sometimes the quietest ones.

    A conversation.

    A forgotten memory.

    A sudden glimpse of a version of yourself you haven’t seen in years.

    I remembered my cousin as the expert who never missed an opportunity to annoy me.

    What I didn’t realize was that he remembered a childhood I had quietly begun to forget.

    And for a little while, it felt as though someone had dusted off an old reel of film and pressed play.

    Maybe the most cinematic moments aren’t the dramatic ones. Sometimes they’re the moments when someone unexpectedly hands you a piece of your own childhood and says, “Remember this?”

    Do you have someone like that in your life? Someone who remembers old stories, forgotten jokes, or pieces of your childhood that you had almost lost? I’d love to hear about your own movie moment in the comments. 💭✨

    With love,
    — Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • The Fears I Overcame (And the Ones Still Paying Rent in My Head)

    The Fears I Overcame (And the Ones Still Paying Rent in My Head)

    What fears have you overcome and how?

    What Fears Have You Overcome and How?

    I’ve overcome quite a few fears.

    Well… “overcome” might be a strong word.

    Let’s say we’ve signed a peace treaty and occasionally exchange awkward nods.

    The biggest one?

    The Fear of Not Being Enough

    Not smart enough.
    Not successful enough.
    Not pretty enough.
    Not productive enough.

    At one point, I was collecting “not enoughs” the way some people collect souvenirs.

    The Fear of Being Judged

    I used to think everyone was watching my every move.

    Turns out, most people are busy wondering if they’re being judged.

    A surprisingly humbling discovery.

    And let’s not forget the fear of failure.

    The funny thing about failure is that it spends years terrifying you, then finally shows up and says,

    “That’s it? You were afraid of me?”

    Most of the disasters I imagined never happened.

    The ones that did happen taught me something useful.

    Rude, but useful.

    I also feared speaking my mind.

    So I stayed quiet.

    Nodded politely.

    Rehearsed arguments in the shower three days after the conversation ended.

    You know, the usual.

    Over time, I learned that being misunderstood is uncomfortable, but losing yourself to keep everyone comfortable is worse.

    The fears didn’t disappear.

    They just got tired of running the show.

    And I got tired of giving them front-row seats.

    Making Peace With Fear

    Now when fear knocks on the door, I let it in, offer it tea, listen politely, and then continue doing what I was going to do anyway.

    Because courage isn’t the absence of fear.

    It’s realizing that fear is a terrible life coach.

    And honestly?

    The fear I’ve truly overcome is the fear of being imperfect.

    These days, I’m less interested in being enough for everyone and more interested in being myself.

    It’s cheaper, less exhausting, and requires significantly fewer existential crises.

    That’s growth.

    Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. 🙂

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • Where Time Still Sits✨

    Where Time Still Sits✨

    Daily writing prompt
    Go on a walk today and share a photo of something that catches your eye.

    The Bench

    I pass by that old bench almost every day.

    It stands there quietly,
    as if it has been waiting for me all this time—
    never impatient,
    never demanding,
    just there.

    So many times I have told myself,
    “Maybe today I’ll sit for a while.”

    Just for a few moments.
    Just long enough to let time slow down
    and revisit the days that now live only in memory.

    The days when a bench was never just a bench.

    It was a meeting place,
    a storyteller,
    a witness.

    We sat for hours with friends,
    laughing until our stomachs hurt,
    arguing over the smallest things,
    walking away in anger,
    only to return and make peace again.

    We shared dreams there.
    We shared heartbreak there.

    Sometimes we celebrated victories.
    Sometimes we quietly wiped away tears,
    hoping no one would notice.

    And through it all,
    the bench listened.

    It listened without judgment.
    It kept every secret.
    It held every story.

    How many friendships has it watched grow?
    How many promises has it heard?
    How many hearts has it seen break and heal again?

    I wonder.

    The funny thing is,
    the bench is still there.

    It hasn’t changed.

    We have.

    Once, we had all the time in the world
    and nowhere important to be.

    Now we have endless responsibilities,
    endless destinations,
    and somehow,
    no time to simply sit.

    When did that happen?

    When did we become so busy
    that pausing for a moment
    started to feel like a luxury?

    Perhaps that is what growing up means—
    not losing our memories,
    but forgetting to revisit them.

    Yet I think life’s greatest treasures
    are not hidden in grand achievements
    or distant destinations.

    They live in the pauses.

    In the quiet moments.

    In the places that ask nothing from us
    except our presence.

    So if you ever pass an old bench,
    take a seat.

    Stay a little longer than you planned.

    Listen to the silence.

    You may find an old version of yourself waiting there—
    the one who laughed more freely,
    dreamed more boldly,
    and carried a lighter heart.

    Because some benches are not made of wood and iron alone.

    They are built from conversations,
    friendships,
    tears,
    laughter,
    and time itself.

    And while time moves on,
    the memories it leaves behind
    remain seated,
    waiting patiently for us to return.

    Sometimes life doesn’t ask us to run faster. Sometimes it places a quiet bench along the way, reminding us that resting is not falling behind—it is part of the journey. 🌿🪑✨

    .

    A quiet wooden bench beside a shaded park path, surrounded by lush greenery and tall trees.
    Where time moved on, but the memories stayed. ✨ 🌿

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved