NihshabdBlog

Tag: unspoken feelings

  • The Fragrance of Unspoken Love♥️

    The Fragrance of Unspoken Love♥️

    कुछ लोग ज़िंदगी में
    बस एक एहसास बनकर आते हैं…
    ना पूरी तरह हमारे होते हैं,
    ना कभी दिल से दूर जाते हैं।

    उनकी यादें
    फूलों की खुशबू जैसी होती हैं…
    दिखती नहीं,
    पर हर पल महसूस होती रहती हैं।

    कभी किसी शाम की ख़ामोशी में,
    कभी किसी पुराने गाने में,
    तो कभी अचानक आई मुस्कान में
    वो चुपचाप मिल जाते हैं…

    और तब समझ आता है,
    कि प्यार हमेशा पाने का नाम नहीं होता…
    कभी-कभी किसी को
    दिल से महसूस करते रहना भी
    इश्क़ होता है।

    हर कोई उस एहसास की खूबसूरती नहीं समझ पाता…
    क्योंकि कुछ लोग सिर्फ चेहरा देखते हैं,
    और कुछ
    रूह तक पढ़ लेते हैं… ❤️

    Some people enter our lives
    just as a feeling…
    Never completely ours,
    yet never truly gone from the heart.

    Their memories are like the fragrance of flowers…
    Invisible,
    yet felt in every quiet moment.

    Sometimes in the silence of an evening,
    sometimes in an old song,
    and sometimes in an unexpected smile,
    they softly return to us…

    And that’s when we realize
    love is not always about possessing someone…
    Sometimes,
    just feeling someone deeply within your soul
    is also love.

    Not everyone understands
    the beauty of such emotions…
    Because some people only see a face,
    while a few
    can read the soul itself… ❤️

    A romantic sunset-themed cover image featuring a glowing red lily flower beside a lantern, with warm reflections on water and scattered petals. The title “The Fragrance of Unspoken Love” appears in elegant typography against a dreamy dark background, creating a soulful and emotional atmosphere.
    Some loves are never spoken…
    they simply bloom quietly in the silence of the heart. ❤️

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • Places I’ll Never Visit?… Plot Twist: None 😌✨

    Places I’ll Never Visit?… Plot Twist: None 😌✨

    What place in the world do you never want to visit? Why?

    Honestly… I don’t think there’s any place in the world I never want to visit.

    .

    Plot twist, right? 😏

    .

    Because the places I’ve already been to…
    even if everything wasn’t perfect — the memories still are.
    And the places I haven’t seen yet?
    I’m way too excited about them to reject them already 🌍✨

    .

    But here’s the real tea ☕️

    .

    We humans have this very special talent…
    of taking one tiny incident,
    zooming into it like a microscope 🔍
    and then carrying it in our hearts like lifetime luggage 🧳

    .

    (I was CEO of this habit, by the way 👀)

    .

    I used to hold on…
    overthink…
    stay quiet so no one else feels bad…
    and somehow end up being the only one feeling bad 🤡

    .

    Because obviously,
    people will still complain…
    no matter how gently you try to exist.

    .

    But then life (okay… let’s be honest — my Krishna 🪈💛)
    slowly made me understand something simple:

    .

    My job is to do my part.
    People’s job is to have opinions.

    .

    And guess what?
    Everyone is doing their job perfectly 😂

    .

    So why should I be the only one overworking emotionally?

    .

    Now I choose peace.
    I choose to not collect unnecessary pain like souvenirs 🫣

    .

    So no…
    there’s no place I wouldn’t go.

    .

    Yes, maybe some people might make me uncomfortable…
    but I’ve also got my people
    the ones who turn any place into comfort 🫶

    .

    And honestly,
    life is too short to cancel destinations
    just because of a few uncomfortable moments.

    .

    Because in the end…
    nothing really matters as much as love does.

    .

    Where there is love,
    even chaos feels a little easier…
    and unfamiliar places don’t feel that unfamiliar anymore.

    .

    Maybe it’s never really about the place…
    maybe it’s always about who we are with,
    and who we become along the way 💫

    .

    So no…
    there’s no place I wouldn’t go.

    .

    Just different stories waiting to happen. 🌍✨

    .

    And on that note…

    I should probably stop here

    before I start sounding wiser than I actually am 😏✨

    .

    A woman sitting on a cliff overlooking a coastal town at sunset, surrounded by travel items, symbolizing freedom, reflection, and love for journeys.
    Not the places… just the stories we carry 🌍✨

    .

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • No Ink, Just Imprints ✨

    No Ink, Just Imprints ✨

    What tattoo do you want and where would you put it?

    “What tattoo do you want and where would you put it?”

    .

    Honestly… I’ve never really thought about it.

    No saved designs, no secret wishlist.

    .

    Not because tattoos aren’t beautiful—

    they truly are—

    but maybe because I’ve always felt

    that the things I carry…

    don’t need to be written on my skin.

    .

    Some people tell their stories in ink,

    I seem to hold mine in words, in pauses, in quiet feelings.

    .

    It’s not fear of permanence…

    just the absence of a need.

    .

    And if someday I ever choose to mark something—

    it probably won’t be a tattoo…

    it’ll be a feeling,

    something invisible,

    yet present everywhere.

    .

    So no tattoo for me…

    just a heart quietly full of stories. 🖤

    .

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • The Quiet Bloom of Me

    Illustrated with love — by Rajeshwari.

    .

    I tie my anklet

    the way dawn ties light to the sky—

    softly,

    without asking permission.

    .

    The jasmine in my hair

    isn’t decoration;

    it’s a reminder

    that I bloom on ordinary days

    just because I can.

    .

    My lehenga rustles,

    gentle as a whispered secret—

    as if it knows

    I’m not dressing for anyone,

    just returning to myself

    a little more beautifully.

    .

    If love finds me,

    let it come quietly.

    I’m already a poem

    learning its own rhythm.

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    (Poem & Illustration © Rajeshwari.

    Unauthorized copying, reposting, or use of this content is not allowed.)

  • She learned to stay quiet.

    She learned to stay quiet.

    Not because she lacked words,

    but because her feelings were often treated

    as something to manage, not understand.

    She learned that softness

    is frequently mistaken for weakness.

    That asking questions invites judgment.

    That silence can feel easier

    than constantly explaining herself.

    As a girl, she carried things inward

    fears she couldn’t name,

    confusion she was told to ignore,

    emotions she was asked to regulate

    before she truly understood them.

    As a woman, she learned to carry more.

    To love deeply without guarantees.

    To remain composed

    even when her inner world felt unsteady.

    She has flaws.

    She overthinks.

    She feels intensely.

    She doubts herself on quiet days

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

    And still

    she shows up.

    She does the best she can

    with what she has,

    right where she is.

    Wherever she goes,

    she brings something subtle yet powerful

    her presence,

    her warmth,

    her quiet resilience.

    She may not always feel confident,

    but she moves with grace.

    She may not always feel certain,

    but she keeps choosing forward motion.

    She smiles not because life is gentle,

    but because hope is a practice she returns to.

    Again and again.

    There are truths women don’t speak of.

    Not due to a lack of strength,

    but because silence sometimes protects

    more than words ever could.

    Fear, love, embarrassment, longing

    they coexist,

    woven into the same heart.

    This space is for that quiet power.

    For the charm she never announces.

    For the aura she carries effortlessly.

    For the woman who keeps becoming,

    even when no one is watching.

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