Tag: Nihshabd journal

  • The Promise to Myself I Never Broke

    The Promise to Myself I Never Broke

    What’s a promise you made to yourself that you’ve actually kept?

    The promise to myself I never broke wasn’t about waking up at 5 a.m., sticking to every New Year’s resolution, or finally resisting the urge to buy “just one more” plant.

    We make promises all the time.

    “I’ll start on Monday.”

    “I’ll sleep early.”

    “I’ll stop buying plants because there’s no space left on the balcony.”

    That last one? Let’s not discuss it.

    But the promise to myself I never broke wasn’t about waking up at 5 a.m., drinking more water, or finally resisting the temptation to bring home “just one more” plant.

    The truth is, the hardest promises aren’t the ones we make to other people. They’re the quiet little promises we whisper to ourselves when nobody is listening.

    I’ve broken my fair share of them. Some lasted a week. Some didn’t even survive until lunch.

    But a few… somehow stayed.

    Not because I have extraordinary willpower. (I don’t.)

    But because they quietly became a part of who I am.

    Looking back, I realized the promise to myself I never broke wasn’t really one promise at all. It became a collection of little promises that slowly shaped the person I wanted to be.

    The Promise to Myself I Never Broke Began with Curiosity

    Age has tried very hard to convince me that I should now be an “expert.”

    Curiosity had other plans.

    I still Google random things at midnight.

    I still wonder how flowers know exactly when they bloom.

    I still fall into rabbit holes that begin with “I’ll just check one thing” and somehow end with ancient civilizations, octopuses, or why toast always lands butter-side down.

    Grey hair may arrive without permission.

    A curious mind, however, is entirely optional.

    And I’d like to keep mine.


    I Promised Myself I’d Keep Making Things

    Not everything needs to become a masterpiece.

    Sometimes a few written words are enough.

    Sometimes it’s a sketch.

    Sometimes it’s crochet.

    Sometimes it’s watering a plant that stubbornly pretends it’s on vacation.

    Creating reminds me that I exist for more than ticking boxes on a to-do list.

    The world celebrates finished products.

    I secretly celebrate beginnings.


    I Promised Myself I’d Never Let Age Decide My Joy

    Apparently, growing older comes with an invisible instruction manual.

    “Act your age.”

    Wear sensible shoes.

    Don’t laugh too loudly.

    Don’t dance in the kitchen.

    Who wrote these rules?

    Because I’d like a word.

    If something makes me smile, I’m keeping it.

    My knees occasionally file complaints.

    My heart hasn’t submitted any.


    I Promised Myself I’d Collect Memories, Not Perfect Moments

    Perfect days are suspicious.

    Real life spills tea.

    People arrive late.

    Photos blur.

    Rain ruins plans.

    Cake collapses.

    Someone always blinks.

    And years later…

    Those are exactly the stories everyone laughs about.

    Perfection is forgettable.

    Memories never are.


    I Promised Myself I’d Keep Showing Up

    Not every day feels magical.

    Some mornings, motivation doesn’t even bother sending a text.

    Still…

    You get up.

    You write one paragraph.

    Water one plant.

    Read one page.

    Smile once.

    Tiny victories are terribly underrated.

    Life isn’t won in giant dramatic scenes.

    It’s quietly built in ordinary Tuesdays.


    I Promised Myself I’d Keep a Little Corner of Childhood Alive

    I still get excited over the first rain.

    I still smile when I hear an old song.

    I still stop to admire an unusually shaped cloud.

    And don’t even get me started on books that smell like childhood.

    Growing older is compulsory.

    Growing boring?

    That’s entirely negotiable.


    I Promised Myself I’d Never Rush Through Beautiful Moments

    Life keeps telling us to hurry.

    Faster.

    Quicker.

    What’s next?

    But some things refuse to bloom on our schedule.

    A sunset.

    A heartfelt conversation.

    The fragrance of morning coffee.

    A flower that opens only for a single magical night.

    The best moments in life don’t ask us to speed up.

    They quietly ask us to stay.

    And I’ve learned that staying is sometimes the bravest thing we can do.

    The Promise to Myself I Never Broke: A Collection of Small Promises

    I’ve forgotten birthdays.

    Missed deadlines.

    Burnt toast.

    Killed a few innocent houseplants.

    (They deserved better.)

    But the promise to myself I never broke has survived.

    To stay curious.

    To keep creating.

    To laugh loudly.

    To notice small wonders.

    To make memories.

    To show up.

    To protect the tiny child inside me who still believes ordinary days can suddenly become extraordinary.

    Because the day I stop doing those things…

    I’ll still be growing older.

    But I won’t really be living.

    So if someone ever asks me about the promise to myself I never broke, my answer won’t be just one sentence.

    It will be this way of living.

    And that’s one promise I have no intention of breaking.

    .

    Until the next whisper…
    —Rajeshwari 
    🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari

    .

    The Heart of Real Friendship ✨

  • Life Is in the Little Things | Nihshabd

    Life Is in the Little Things | Nihshabd

    The Older I Get, the More I Realize…

    Somewhere along the way, we all started believing that happiness is always loading…

    .

    When I get that job.
    When I buy that house.
    When life finally “settles down.”

    .

    But here’s the plot twist.

    .

    The moments that stay with us forever are almost never the expensive ones.

    .

    They’re the ones nobody planned.

    .

    That cup of chai that somehow turned into a three-hour conversation.

    .

    Laughing so hard your stomach hurt and you couldn’t even explain what was funny.

    .

    A random drive where Google Maps had no idea what was happening.

    .

    Singing every lyric wrong with people who didn’t care.

    .

    Getting a text that simply said,
    “Reached home?”

    .

    Or a hug that quietly meant,
    “I’ve got you.”

    .

    Funny, isn’t it?

    .

    At the time, those moments felt completely ordinary.

    .

    No perfect lighting.
    No filters.
    No viral reel.

    .

    Just people being present.

    .

    And somehow…

    .

    those became the memories we keep replaying in our heads years later.

    Maybe happiness was never hiding in bigger paychecks or bigger dreams.

    .

    Maybe it was sitting across the table with a cup of chai.

    .

    Maybe it was that friend who stayed a little longer.

    .

    Maybe it was a normal Tuesday that nobody thought to photograph.

    .

    The older I get, the more I realize…

    .

    Life doesn’t become meaningful because of the big moments.

    .

    It becomes meaningful because of hundreds of tiny ones we almost ignored.

    .

    If life gave you just five minutes to relive one memory… no edits, no rewind, no second chance…

    which one would you choose? ❤️

    .

    Until the next whisper…
    —Rajeshwari 
    🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari

    .

    Read More : Why My Brain Goes Blank During Conversations

  • Fictional Characters | Two Extra Chairs for My Childhood

    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.

    .

    I would choose Nagraj and Super Commando Dhruva.

    .

    Not because they were superheroes.

    .

    But because they quietly became a part of my childhood.

    .

    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.

    .

    There was only hope… and patience.

    .

    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.”

    .

    And somehow… we actually believed tomorrow would arrive faster.

    .

    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.

    .

    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.

    .

    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.

    .

    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.

    .

    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.

    .

    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.

    .

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

    .

    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.

    .

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

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

    .

    Until the next whisper…
    —Rajeshwari 
    🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari

    .

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

    .

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

  • The Best Purchase I Ever Made 

    The Best Purchase I Ever Made 

    What is the best purchase you have ever made?

    If someone asked me ten years ago, “What’s the best purchase you’ve ever made?” I probably would have said something sensible. Maybe jewellery. Maybe a good mixer grinder. (Let’s be honest, we all go through that phase.)

    Today, my answer is surprisingly simple.

    My iPad Pro.

    Now, before you roll your eyes and think, “Oh great, another person obsessed with gadgets,” hear me out.

    I didn’t buy it because I wanted to look cool. I bought it because I wanted to draw. Little did I know that this sleek piece of technology would quietly become my therapist, my sketchbook, my entertainment system, and occasionally, the reason for family arguments.

    A few years ago, I was going through a difficult phase. I was quite unwell, and there were days when I didn’t feel like doing much of anything. When you’re sick for a long time, even your favourite hobbies begin to feel distant. That’s when my iPad stepped in.

    Whenever I had a little energy, I picked up my Apple Pencil and started illustrating.

    Something magical happened.

    For those few hours, I wasn’t thinking about medicines, doctor’s appointments, or how miserable I felt. I was choosing colours, drawing outfits, creating faces, and getting completely lost in my own little world. It didn’t cure me, of course, but it certainly made the difficult days much easier to live through.

    Even today, if someone in my family can’t find me, they don’t bother searching the entire house.

    They simply look for the glowing rectangle.

    There I am.

    Drawing.

    Experimenting with new brushes.

    Or confidently telling myself, “Just five more minutes.”

    We all know how that story ends.

    Three hours later, I’m still sitting in exactly the same place.

    My iPad has another important responsibility too.

    It hosts our family Ludo matches.

    Now, if you’ve never fought with your loved ones over someone sending your token back to the starting point, have you really experienced family bonding? We laugh, we argue, we accuse each other of cheating, and then we immediately start another game.

    It’s become a family tradition.

    Looking back, I realise I didn’t just buy a device.

    I bought countless hours of creativity, laughter, distraction, and comfort.

    Some purchases lose their excitement after a few weeks.

    This one somehow became more valuable with time.

    If I had to choose just one thing, my iPad Pro would always be the best purchase I ever made.

    Without a doubt, my iPad Pro has been the best purchase I’ve ever made.

    And yes… every other thing I’ve ever bought is probably feeling a little jealous.

    .

    Until the next whisper,

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari

  • Why Does This Always Happen to Me?

    Why Does This Always Happen to Me?

    What’s the funniest misunderstanding you’ve ever been part of?

    Why Does This Always Happen to Me?

    Why does this always happen to me?
    I honestly ask myself this question more often than I’d like to admit.

    If misunderstandings were an Olympic sport, I’d probably have a lifetime achievement award by now.

    Seriously…

    Why does this always happen to me?

    There are people who walk into a room and instantly recognize everyone.

    They know names.

    They remember faces.

    They somehow even remember conversations from years ago.

    And then there’s me…

    Living life like I’m permanently in the middle of a social quiz that I never studied for.

    The Wave That Was Never Meant for Me

    It usually starts with someone looking in my direction.

    They’re smiling.

    They’re waving.

    Now, you’d think experience would have taught me not to assume anything.

    But no.

    Every single time, my brain confidently whispers,

    “She’s smiling at you… and waving at you.”

    Never mind the fact that I’ve never seen her before.

    Not once.

    Not at school.

    Not in the neighborhood.

    Not anywhere.

    But the moment someone smiles or waves in my direction, my brain immediately decides,

    “Yes… she definitely knows you.”

    So I smile back.

    I wave back.

    With complete confidence.

    And then…

    With absolutely perfect timing…

    She walks right past me to greet the person standing behind me.

    For a split second, I just stand there…

    Still smiling.

    Still waving.

    Questioning every life decision that brought me to that exact moment.

    I don’t even get embarrassed anymore.

    I’ve become an expert at pretending I was simply stretching my arm… or admiring a tree… or looking at literally anything except the awkwardness I just created.

    You’d think I’d have learned my lesson by now.

    I haven’t.

    Motherhood Changed the Game

    Just when I thought my accidental waving incidents couldn’t get any more embarrassing…

    I became a mom.

    That’s when a whole new category of misunderstandings entered my life.

    Every now and then, another mom walks up to me with the warmth of an old friend.

    “How have you been?”

    “How are the kids?”

    “I saw your post the other day.”

    She remembers little details about my life.

    She knows exactly who I am.

    Meanwhile, my brain has already launched a full-scale investigation.

    Who is she?

    A school parent?

    Someone from tuition?

    A birthday party from years ago?

    A school event?

    Or have we simply spent years smiling at each other during pick-up and drop-off?

    I search my memory for the tiniest clue.

    Nothing.

    Absolutely nothing.

    Yet somehow, the conversation flows beautifully.

    I smile.

    I nod.

    I laugh at all the right places.

    I answer every question with complete confidence while silently praying she never asks,

    “You do remember me… don’t you?”

    Because that would be the exact moment my soul would quietly leave my body.

    And that’s exactly when I find myself thinking…

    Why Does This Always Happen to Me?

    They seem to know everything about me…

    …while I know almost nothing about them.

    Maybe I’m terrible with faces.

    Maybe motherhood introduces us to so many people that our brains simply run out of storage.

    Or maybe this is just my life’s favorite prank.

    Whatever the reason…

    I still haven’t learned my lesson.

    The next time someone smiles in my direction…

    I’ll probably smile right back.

    Because apparently, hope has a better memory than I do.

    So tell me…

    Why does this always happen to me?

    Or am I not the only one?

    Has someone ever waved at the person behind you while you happily waved back?

    Or had a complete stranger walk up and start a conversation as if you’ve known each other forever… while your brain desperately searched for a clue?

    Please tell me I’m not alone.

    Because if this only happens to me…

    I might actually start checking who’s standing behind me before I smile back.

    .

    Until the next whisper…
    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari

    .

    Read More : A Little Chaos, A Lot of Great Stories

    From “MOMMMM!” to “Did You Eat?” — A Mother’s Entire World ❤️

  • My Screen Time Finally Grew Up 

    My Screen Time Finally Grew Up 

    Daily writing prompt
    What app eats up most of your screen time — and do you even feel bad about it?

    My Screen Time Finally Grew Up. If someone had shown me my screen time report a few months ago, WhatsApp and Facebook would have been sitting comfortably at the top. These days, WordPress and Procreate have completely changed that story.

    .

    My screen time report has had quite the personality makeover.

    .

    Not too long ago, WhatsApp, Instagram and Facebook proudly competed for the top spot. There was always a message to reply to, a reel to watch, or a post to scroll past while pretending I was “just checking something.”

    .

    Now they’ve quietly stepped aside.

    .

    These days, WordPress and Procreate have taken over my screen.

    .

    WordPress has turned into that strict editor who is never fully satisfied. One moment I’m fixing a typo, the next I’m rewriting an entire paragraph because one sentence suddenly feels “not quite right.” Then comes SEO, categories, tags, featured images… somehow a five-minute edit becomes an hour-long adventure.

    .

    Procreate isn’t any better.

    .

    It lures me in with the promise of one tiny change. Just brighten that flower. Adjust one shadow. Make that line a little smoother. Before I know it, I’ve zoomed in so far that I’m perfecting details no one else will probably notice.

    .

    Together, these two apps have mastered the art of making time disappear.

    .

    Every Sunday, my screen time report arrives looking slightly judgmental, as if it’s waiting for me to feel guilty.

    .

    But honestly?

    .

    I don’t.

    .

    I still catch myself opening social media out of habit. Old habits don’t disappear overnight. But more often than not, I find myself returning to WordPress to polish another paragraph or opening Procreate to experiment with a new illustration. That’s a habit I’m actually happy to nurture.

    .

    Because this screen time isn’t leaving me with blurry memories of endless scrolling. It’s leaving me with blog posts I’m proud of, illustrations that make me smile, and ideas that once lived only in my head.

    .

    So yes, my screen time is still embarrassingly high.

    It’s just no longer spent watching everyone else’s creativity.

    .

    It’s spent building my own.

    .

    And somehow, that feels like time very well spent.

    .

    Until the next whisper…
    —Rajeshwari
    🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari

    Read More-

    A Blank Canvas and a Blank Page

    Too Many Skills, Too Many Feelings ✨

  • Why Are We Always in Such a Hurry?

    Why Are We Always in Such a Hurry?

    I have a question.

    Why do we run to answer the door…

    but tell our own health,

    “I’ll deal with you next week.”

    Funny, isn’t it?

    The doorbell rings…

    and suddenly we’re trying to break our own personal speed record.

    The phone buzzes…

    and we grab it before it’s even finished buzzing.

    Someone texts,

    “Can we talk?”

    And just like that…

    we’ve imagined seventeen different scenarios…

    none of them good.

    Then there are elevators.

    The doors start closing…

    and out of nowhere, we discover athletic abilities we never knew we had.

    One hand goes between the doors.

    One foot follows.

    Dignity? Optional.

    All this to save…

    Seven. Whole. Seconds.


    Everything Has Become an Emergency

    Seriously…

    Why are we always in such a hurry?

    Who convinced us that everything needed immediate attention?

    The parcel can wait.

    The message can wait.

    The sale can wait.

    Even the microwave politely gives us thirty seconds before it starts yelling.

    But us?

    We’re permanently operating in Emergency Mode.

    We’ve somehow trained ourselves to believe that every beep deserves our attention and every bell demands a sprint.

    The funniest part?

    We’re never actually in a hurry for the important things.

    Going to bed early?

    “Tomorrow.”

    Drinking enough water?

    “In a minute.”

    Booking that health check-up?

    “Next week.”

    Replying to that one friend we’ve been meaning to call?

    “This weekend… hopefully.”

    But if our phone vibrates…

    We react like it’s personally calling our name.


    Congratulations! You’ve Won the Marathon of Nothing

    We rush through breakfast.

    Rush through conversations.

    Rush through weekends.

    Rush through birthdays.

    Rush through sunsets because we need the perfect picture before the colours disappear.

    We refresh the food delivery app every thirty seconds…

    as if staring at the screen will make the rider pedal faster.

    We press the elevator button five times…

    apparently because the first press wasn’t convincing enough.

    We stand up the moment an aeroplane lands…

    even though the doors aren’t opening for another ten minutes.

    Somewhere between all that rushing…

    Life quietly walked past us.

    Probably…

    at a perfectly normal speed.


    Maybe Everything Doesn’t Need a Sprint

    Here’s a wild idea.

    The next time your doorbell rings…

    Don’t sprint.

    Don’t perform a 100-metre dash across the living room.

    Just…

    Walk.

    Normally.

    Take one deep breath.

    Smile.

    Open the door.

    I promise…

    The delivery person won’t disappear because you took six extra seconds.

    And if they do leave…

    They’ll probably come back tomorrow.

    But here’s the thing…

    Parcels can be redelivered.

    Meetings can be rescheduled.

    Messages can wait.

    Life doesn’t.

    So maybe the real question isn’t…

    Why are we always in such a hurry?

    Maybe it’s…

    What are we so afraid we’ll miss… that we’re missing life itself?

    .

    Until the next whisper…

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari

  • Outdated Technology, Timeless Memories

    Outdated Technology, Timeless Memories

    Which outdated technology do you miss the most, and why?

    Which outdated technology do I miss the most?

    Outdated technology wasn’t always convenient. It tested our patience, refused to cooperate, and occasionally stopped working for no apparent reason. Yet somehow, it gave us something modern gadgets rarely do—stories worth telling.

    The correct answer is…

    Yes.

    I miss all of it.

    Please don’t make me choose. That’s like asking a grandmother which grandchild she loves the most.

    Old technology wasn’t just technology.

    It was a full-time family member.

    Why Outdated Technology Was So Memorable

    The landline had no concept of privacy.

    If your friend called, the entire household knew before you did.

    Someone would yell from another room…

    “Phone! It’s for you!”

    By the time you reached it, three people had already guessed who was calling and why.

    Then there was the TV antenna.

    One brave soul would climb onto the terrace while another stood inside giving directions that made absolutely no sense.

    “A little left!”

    “No… the OTHER left!”

    “Perfect! Don’t move!”

    The poor fellow became a human TV stand for the next two hours.

    Cassette tapes had anger issues.

    Every now and then they’d chew up your favourite song just because they could.

    And who came to the rescue?

    A pencil.

    Imagine explaining to Gen Z that a stationery item once repaired music.

    How Old Technology Taught Us Patience

    Camera rolls taught us confidence.

    You got 36 photos.

    No previews.

    No filters.

    No deleting.

    No “Let’s take one more.”

    If your eyes were closed…

    Congratulations.

    That’s your face for the next twenty years.

    The internet had a soundtrack.

    That legendary dial-up noise.

    Let It wasn’t pleasant.

    It sounded like a fax machine arguing with an alien.

    But hearing it meant adventure was about to begin…

    …unless someone picked up the landline.

    Game over.

    Life Before Smartphones Was Beautifully Imperfect

    Phone diaries were tiny books filled with numbers we actually remembered.

    Today my phone remembers everyone.

    I remember no one.

    Streaming platforms gave us thousands of movies.

    Video rental shops gave us happiness.

    There’s a difference.

    And television…

    Television knew when to go home.

    Late at night, the channel would simply end.

    No endless autoplay.

    No “Because you watched…”

    Just a polite goodnight.

    Why We Still Miss Outdated Technology

    I don’t really miss outdated technology because it was better.

    Half of it tested our patience.

    The other half stopped working whenever it felt like it.

    I miss it because it had limits.

    It forced us to wait.

    To fix things instead of replacing them.

    To laugh when they didn’t work.

    And, most importantly…

    when technology switched off…

    we switched on.

    Maybe that’s the outdated feature I miss the most.

    .

    Maybe we don’t miss the gadgets. Maybe we miss the life we lived around them… and the people we were because of them.

    Until the next whisper…
    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari

    Read More:

    How to Build Self-Confidence When You Overthink Everything

    Healthy Boundaries in Relationships: A Guide to Lasting Love

  • The Best Excuse I’ve Heard Lately (And Yes, I’m Guilty Too!)

    The Best Excuse I’ve Heard Lately (And Yes, I’m Guilty Too!)

    What is the best excuse you’ve heard lately?

    Honestly, I think excuses deserve their own Hall of Fame. 🏆

    Some people have talent.
    Some have degrees.
    And then there are those who can invent an excuse faster than Google loads.

    One of my all-time favorites?

    “I was going to reply… but I forgot.”

    Forgot?

    Interesting.

    You remembered to post four stories,
    liked twenty-seven reels,
    commented “Awwww so cuteee 😍” on your friend’s vacation photos,
    and somehow…

    my message slipped into another dimension.

    Technology has advanced.
    Apparently selective memory has too. 🤭

    Then comes the classic.

    “I’m too busy.”

    Which usually means…

    “I’m busy doing literally everything except the thing I promised you.”

    No judgment.

    I’ve used that one too.

    Usually while rearranging my bookshelf,
    watering plants that didn’t ask for water,
    or convincing myself that watching just one reel is practically self-care.

    Forty-eight reels later…

    I’m somehow researching the emotional life of penguins. 🐧😂

    The truth is…

    The best excuses aren’t the ones we tell other people.

    They’re the ones we whisper to ourselves.

    “I’ll start on Monday.”

    “Five more minutes.”

    “This is the last episode.”

    “I’ll call them tomorrow.”

    Poor Monday.

    It arrives every week with so much hope…
    only to discover it’s been blamed for our laziness since the beginning of time. 😂

    So here’s my question…

    What’s the best excuse you’ve heard lately?

    The funniest one?
    The weirdest one?
    Or the one that was so convincing… you almost believed it yourself?

    No judgment.

    Because deep down…

    we’re all honorary members of the International Association of Professional Excuse Makers. 🤝😌

    Just don’t say…

    “Sorry, I didn’t see your message.”

    In 2026.

    With Read Receipts ON.

    Now that deserves an Oscar. 🏆😂🤍🦋

    .

    Until the next whisper… 🤍
    With love,
    Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari

    Daily writing prompt
    What is the best excuse you have heard lately?

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  • Built by Birth. Edited by Life.

    Built by Birth. Edited by Life.

    Do you think we’re shaped more by our experiences or by who we are?

    I’ve seen this debate so many times that I wouldn’t be surprised if Life started it just to entertain itself.

    .

    Are we shaped by our experiences…
    …or by who we already are?

    .

    I think we’ve been asking the wrong question all along.

    .


    We’re Built by Birth. Edited by Life.

    .

    Everything that happens after that is simply another revision.

    .


    When we’re born, life hands us a rough draft.
    A little courage.
    A little fear.
    A heart that trusts far too easily.
    An ego that occasionally believes it knows everything.
    No map.
    No instruction manual.
    No “Ctrl + Z.”

    .

    Just a cheerful, “Good luck. You’ll figure it out.”


    And then people happen.

    .

    Some walk into our lives carrying sunshine.
    Some arrive looking like sunshine…

    .

    until they quietly become a power cut.
    Some stay.
    Some leave.
    Some leave… while taking a piece of us with them.
    Life never really warns us which is which.

    .

    It simply smiles and says,
    “Character development.”

    .

    Life has terrible timing… but an annoyingly good eye for editing.

    .


    I’ve often wondered…

    .

    Do heartbreaks make us stronger…
    or do they simply introduce us to a version of ourselves we had never met before?

    .

    Do betrayals make us suspicious…
    or were we always the kind of people who loved without checking the expiry date?

    .

    Maybe experience isn’t the whole story.
    Maybe neither are we.

    .

    Perhaps it’s never just about what happens to us… but also about what happens within us.


    The same disappointment visits two people.

    .

    One closes every door.
    The other learns which doors were never worth knocking on.

    .

    The same criticism breaks one person.
    Another quietly thanks it years later.

    .

    The same betrayal hardens one heart…
    and deepens another.

    .

    Funny, isn’t it?

    .

    Life gives the same exam…
    but we all write different answers.

    .

    Maybe that’s why no two people come out of the same storm looking alike.

    .

    Life writes the questions.
    Our choices write the answers.


    I’ve met people who praised me in public…
    and edited my character in private.

    .

    I’ve also met people who quietly stitched pieces of my confidence back together…
    without ever telling me they did.

    .

    Life introduced me to both.

    .

    Who I became after meeting them…
    that part was mine.


    I don’t think experiences arrive to change us.
    I think they arrive to reveal us.

    .

    Just like the tide.
    It doesn’t create the ocean.

    It simply shows us how deep it has always been.
    The waves don’t ask permission.
    They come.
    They leave.

    .

    And somehow…

    .

    the shore is never quite the same.
    Neither are we.


    Some experiences erase illusions.
    Some restore hope.
    Some teach us to walk away.
    Others remind us why staying is sometimes the braver choice.

    .

    Every joy adds a sentence.
    Every loss strikes one out.

    .

    Every unexpected kindness writes an entirely new paragraph.
    Without realizing it, we keep becoming newer editions of ourselves.

    .

    Not perfect.
    Just… a little wiser than yesterday.


    So…
    are we shaped more by our experiences…
    or by who we are?

    .

    I still can’t choose.

    .

    Because life may hold the editor’s pen…
    but it can only edit the pages we were born with.

    .


    Perhaps that’s the quiet truth.
    We don’t become someone else.

    .

    We slowly discover who was hiding beneath every revision.
    Still imperfect.
    Still learning.
    Still wonderfully unfinished.
    Built by Birth. Edited by Life.

    .

    Until the next whisper… 🤍
    — Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari

    .

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    A Little Bit of Magic Called Life

    My Life Has No Direction… and That’s Exactly the Direction 😌