NihshabdBlog

Tag: Personal reflection

  • 🎵 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.)

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    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

  • 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.
    View all responses

    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

  • The Heart of Real Friendship ✨

    The Heart of Real Friendship ✨

    What quality do you value most in a friend?

    What I Value Most in a Friend

    A friend is not just someone we laugh with.

    A friend is someone who slowly becomes a part of our story.

    The person who knows the reason behind our smile,
    the weight behind our silence,
    and the meaning of the words we never say aloud.

    With friends, life feels a little lighter.

    We share our dreams, our fears, our mistakes, our victories.
    We trust them with pieces of ourselves that we do not hand to everyone.

    And perhaps that is why the quality I value most in a friend is trust.

    Not the kind that exists only during good times.

    I mean the kind of trust that feels like home.

    The kind that lets you speak freely,
    without wondering if your words will be misunderstood,
    used against you,
    or carried somewhere they do not belong.

    Because once trust breaks,
    friendship may survive,
    but it never sounds quite the same again.

    I also believe a friend should never make you feel
    that your value depends on their needs.

    People are not tools.
    Hearts are not stepping stones.

    A friendship should never begin with affection
    and end the moment its purpose is served.

    The people we call friends
    should cherish us for who we are,
    not for what we can offer.

    And if one day we have nothing to give
    except our presence,
    that should still be enough.

    A friend should never ask us
    to shrink ourselves to fit their comfort.

    Never ask us to think like them,
    live like them,
    or become someone else
    just to keep the friendship alive.

    Because friendship is not ownership.

    It is not control.

    It is not a list of conditions.

    It is the freedom to be different
    and still be loved.

    To disagree and still be respected.

    To grow in different directions
    and still remain connected.

    And there is something else I value deeply.

    A true friend does not rewrite the story
    when they decide to leave.

    They do not turn your kindness into weakness,
    your mistakes into your identity,
    or your trust into a reason to blame you.

    They do not paint you as the villain
    simply because they no longer wish to stay.

    Because if someone once called you a friend,
    then the memories you shared deserve dignity,
    even if the friendship does not last forever.

    The older I grow,
    the less impressed I am by people
    who promise lifelong friendship.

    And the more grateful I become
    for the rare souls who quietly prove it.

    The ones who never use your heart as a convenience.

    The ones who never ask you to become someone else.

    The ones who do not disappear after taking what they needed.

    The ones who stay honest when it would be easier to be selfish.

    Because a real friend is not measured
    by how loudly they call you their friend.

    A real friend is measured by how gently they hold your trust.

    And if I could describe friendship in a single sentence, it would be this—

    A true friend is someone who never makes you regret trusting them with your heart. ✨🤍

    .

    Three friends sit together against a glowing sunset, symbolizing trust, connection, and the warmth of true friendship.
    The best friendships are built on trust, not conditions. ✨

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • A Little Bit of Magic Called Life

    A Little Bit of Magic Called Life

    Daily writing prompt
    What is the meaning of life?
    View all responses

    What Life Feels Like ✨

    Sometimes,
    when I sit quietly
    and think about life,
    it feels like a tiny beautiful moment
    running softly through my hands
    before I can hold it completely.

    Like a butterfly
    that chooses your shoulder
    for just a second. 🦋

    Like a rainbow
    appearing shyly after rain
    only to disappear again
    as if magic was never meant
    to stay forever. 🌈

    Life feels golden sometimes —
    sunlight tangled in hair,
    music floating through rooms,
    giggles that arrive unexpectedly,
    laughter so pure
    it heals hidden corners inside us.

    And sometimes life is simply
    a soft breeze,
    a silver line behind dark clouds,
    a strange little miracle
    hiding inside ordinary days.

    To me,
    life is not a race to win.

    It is freedom.
    Peace.
    Clarity.
    Love without conditions.
    Happiness found in tiny things.

    It is dancing foolishly in the kitchen,
    singing wrong lyrics loudly,
    being playful without shame,
    staying a little crazy,
    a little quirky,
    a little wonderfully undone.

    Life is learning to live
    without grudges heavy in the heart.
    To let go gently.
    To forgive quietly.
    To protect your peace
    like something sacred.

    And maybe the meaning of life
    is not something huge at all.

    Maybe it is simply this —

    to love deeply,
    laugh endlessly,
    feel everything fully,
    and leave behind
    a little warmth,
    a little music,
    and a little magic
    wherever we go. ✨

    .

    A dreamy sunset scene with a girl, butterflies, rainbow, and soft magical vibes beside the title Nihshabd.
    Tiny moments. Big feelings. Infinite magic. ✨

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    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • Women & Their Tiny Emotional Treasures

    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. 😭

    .

    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. 😭

    .

    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. ✨

    .

    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.

    .

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

    .

    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. ✨

    .

    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. ✨

    .

    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.” 😭🤍

    .

    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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    A warm, nostalgic featured image showing sentimental treasures women hold dear folded fabrics, old photos, movie tickets, handwritten notes, flowers, and cozy vintage décor beneath the title Women & Their Tiny Emotional Treasures with Nihshabd written elegantly below. ✨

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

    .

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • The Little Things I Secretly Live For ✨

    The Little Things I Secretly Live For ✨

    Daily writing prompt
    What’s a simple pleasure in life that brings you joy?
    View all responses

    Simple pleasure?
    Honestly, my happiness standards are beautifully random. 😭

    .

    Some people feel happy after buying expensive things.
    Meanwhile, I feel emotionally fulfilled after matching all the kitchen container lids correctly in one attempt. That satisfaction deserves respect.

    .

    I love making illustrations and then staring at them every few hours like I accidentally created a museum-worthy masterpiece. Sometimes I zoom into tiny details nobody else will notice and silently appreciate my own talent. Very supportive audience. Very loyal fan base. 😌

    .

    Old songs in the background while doing work make life feel softer somehow. Freshly washed clothes smelling like sunlight, perfectly made chai, cloudy evenings, arranging messy drawers for absolutely no reason, and finding forgotten money inside an old bag all these tiny things genuinely make me happy.

    .

    And honestly, nothing feels more rewarding than working in the garden for days and finally seeing one tiny flower bloom. After so much effort, that little flower feels like a personal victory. 🌼

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    Evening walks with Kiwi are also one of my favorite simple joys. Just walking slowly, feeling the evening breeze, watching random things, and forgetting life’s unnecessary stress for a while.

    .

    Family Ludo matches are another level of happiness. What starts as “just one game” somehow turns into emotional drama, cheating allegations, temporary alliances, revenge moves, and lifelong grudges over one cut token. 😭 Nobody in the family plays peacefully. Everyone suddenly becomes a strategist, a lawyer, and a victim at the same time.

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    Children are also walking bundles of happiness. Their random questions, dramatic storytelling, tiny hugs, sudden mood swings, and the way they can turn a quiet room into complete chaos within three minutes… irritating sometimes, adorable always.

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    I think simple pleasures matter because life is already loud and exhausting enough. These tiny moments quietly repair us without making a big announcement about it. ✨

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    Tiny moments. Big happiness. 

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    With Love,

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • Thankfully, Only My Dignity Was Fractured

    Thankfully, Only My Dignity Was Fractured

    Have you ever broken a bone?

    Have You Ever Broken a Bone?

    The moment I read this prompt, my brain did not ask,
    “Have I ever broken a bone?”

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    It immediately asked:

    “Wait… whose bone are we talking about here?” 🤨

    .

    Because honestly, the wording felt slightly suspicious.
    Like the prompt was quietly investigating my criminal history.

    .

    For a second I genuinely wanted to reply:

    “Your Honor, before I answer, I would like my lawyer present.” 🤭

    .

    But thankfully, no.
    I have never broken a bone.

    Not mine.
    Not anyone else’s either.
    Very proud of this peaceful achievement, by the way. ✨

    .

    Which is honestly shocking considering the number of times my toes have violently collided with furniture.

    .

    And I don’t mean a gentle little bump.
    I mean full-speed emotional impact.

    .

    One time the swelling was SO bad that I had already started imagining dramatic X-rays (which, unfortunately, I actually had to get done), hospital scenes, and an inspiring recovery journey.

    .

    But apparently my bones looked at the situation and said:

    “Not today.” 😌

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    Meanwhile I was walking around the house like an injured freedom fighter for fifteen days.🫣

    .

    At this point, my skeleton deserves employee-of-the-month recognition.🤭

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    Though emotionally?
    Different story.

    .

    A few days ago, I confidently waved back at someone…
    who was actually waving at the person behind me.🤭

    .

    And I’m sorry, but some things fracture beyond medical repair.😪

    .

    I still think about it randomly and suffer.

    .

    So no broken bones so far.
    Just broken dignity, damaged confidence, and occasional attacks from table corners. ✨

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    A cozy illustrated scene of a girl with a bandaged foot sitting beside a table corner, surrounded by funny notes about broken dignity, awkward waving, and surviving life without broken bones.
    Bones survived. Dignity… still recovering. 🤭

    .

    With love,

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • Work-Life Balance, Homemaker Edition

    Work-Life Balance, Homemaker Edition

    How do you balance work and home life?

    How do I balance home and life?

    Very professionally.

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    I ignore one thing while doing another. ✨

    .

    I’ll start cleaning one corner of the house and somehow end up reorganizing a drawer nobody has opened since the Mughal era.

    .

    I keep things in “safe places” so safe that even I can’t find them later.
    I make tea and forget to drink it.
    I fold clothes nicely knowing fully well someone will pull out one T-shirt like they’re auditioning for a disaster documentary.

    .

    And why does everyone in the house ask questions only when I finally sit down?

    .

    The entire day is basically:
    getting up, keeping things back where they belong, and repeating,
    “Ye yahan kisne rakha???”

    .

    But honestly… somewhere between reheating tea, fixing little messes, hearing people call my name from every room, and ending the night with a tired smile…

    .

    I think this is my balance.

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    Not perfect.
    Not organized.
    Just a home slowly held together with small everyday love.

    .

    .

    A cozy featured image showing a homemaker holding tea in a warm kitchen with handwritten notes and the title “Work-Life Balance, Homemaker Edition”.
    Keeping the house running… one reheated cup of tea at a time. ☕✨

    With love,

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • Tiny Sacrifices of a Dramatically Distracted Person 🌻

    Tiny Sacrifices of a Dramatically Distracted Person 🌻

    What sacrifices have you made in life?

    People ask about sacrifices in life
    as if I marched through storms
    and gave up everything for greatness.

    .

    Meanwhile, I once sacrificed
    an entire evening
    trying to take one decent candid photo
    only to use the first blurry picture anyway.

    .

    I have sacrificed sleep
    to imaginary conversations
    that never happened.

    .

    I have sacrificed productivity
    to “I’ll just sit for five minutes”
    and somehow became emotionally attached
    to the floor, the ceiling,
    and my own thoughts.

    .

    I have sacrificed money
    to iced coffee, pretty notebooks,
    and things described online as
    “small little joys”
    which is honestly
    a very dangerous category.

    .

    I have sacrificed my dignity
    while confidently waving back at someone
    who was waving at the person behind me.
    And since embarrassment was already guaranteed,
    I finished the wave properly too.

    .

    I have sacrificed my self-respect
    by checking the fridge repeatedly
    as if new food appears
    through manifestation.

    .

    And perhaps my biggest sacrifice of all
    acting normal
    after saying “you too”
    to a waiter who told me to enjoy my meal.

    .

    So no,
    I have not sacrificed kingdoms, dreams, or destiny.
    But I have survived
    many tiny embarrassments with remarkable courage. 🌻

    .

    A cozy illustrated blog cover featuring the title “Tiny Sacrifices of a Dramatically Distracted Person” with warm aesthetic decor and the signature “Nihshabd.”
    Tiny battles. Tiny embarrassments. Tiny sacrifices. 🌻

    .

    With love,

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • Collecting Colours the World Forgot

    Collecting Colours the World Forgot

    Some people heal in silence,
    some buy expensive candles,
    and some of us stare at butterflies
    like they personally pay our therapy bills.

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    I belong to the third category.

    .

    A butterfly passes by
    and suddenly my entire personality becomes
    “poet standing dramatically near window during rain.”

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    Honestly, embarrassing.

    .

    But tell me
    how does something so tiny
    carry an entire rainbow
    without looking arrogant about it?

    .

    If humans had those colours
    we’d immediately start a podcast.

    .

    Butterflies simply float around
    like soft little reminders that
    beauty does not need announcement,
    only sunlight.

    .

    And perhaps a flower or two.

    .

    Sometimes I think
    God created butterflies
    on a Friday evening
    when heaven’s creative team said,
    “Let’s add glitter to nature
    but make it emotionally intelligent.”

    .

    Excellent decision, truly.

    .

    Because look carefully
    every butterfly feels like
    a flying piece of weather.

    .

    A little barish.(rain)
    A little dhoop.(sunlight)
    A little khushboo (fragrance) of forgotten gardens.
    A little magic stitched into wings.

    .

    Even the breeze behaves differently around them,
    like the wind itself is trying not to be rude.

    .

    Meanwhile humans…
    one inconvenience
    and we become unpaid philosophers.

    .

    Wifi slow?
    “Nothing in life is permanent.”

    .

    Tea cold?
    “This world lacks warmth.”

    .

    But butterflies?
    Zero complaints.
    Just vibes and floral diplomacy.

    .

    I envy that.

    .

    I too wish to enter rooms
    the way butterflies enter gardens
    quietly, beautifully,
    making everything look softer
    without touching a thing.

    .

    Maybe that is why
    I love colours so much.

    .

    Not loud colours.
    Not festival-shop chaos.

    .

    I mean the gentle colours.

    .

    The glow after rain.
    The pink hiding inside sunsets.
    The golden smell of old evenings.
    The blue that lives quietly in lonely skies.

    .

    Those colours.

    .

    The kind that do not scream,
    yet somehow stay in your memory
    longer than people.

    .

    But beautiful things usually are.

    .

    And perhaps that is the real magic
    not becoming extraordinary,
    but remaining soft
    in a world training everyone
    to become stone.

    So if someday
    you see me smiling at butterflies
    like an emotionally unstable Disney princess,
    please mind your business.

    .

    I am busy collecting colours
    for the parts of me
    the world tried to leave grey. 🦋✨

    .

    Dreamy pastel collage featuring butterflies, rainbow-toned typography, soft skies, flowers, and a girl watching the sunset beside the title Collecting Colours the World Forgot.
    For hearts that romanticize rain clouds and tiny miracles. ☁️🦋

    .

    With love,

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved