The Fairy Tale Continues

Written in response to Friday Writings #244: If the Glass Slipper Fits

The Fairy Tale Continues

Our dream world is made of faith, of trust,
Of Beauty and her forever love,
With glimmers rising from the pixie dust,
And happiness being blessed from above.

We wonder if forever happiness lasts,
Cinderella’s slipper continues to fit?
or they must compromise and adjust,
To Goldilocks’ middle as their life knit?

Collect every moment with love and trust,
because they are your ‘forever’ someday;
Have good and fair and what is unjust,
Accept everything that life brings our way.

Stay enchanted and let the years unfold;
For ‘forever’ is created through what we hold.

A Ledger, a Father, a Child

Responding to Friday Writings #243: By the Numbers









We waited for one baby step,
one tooth, one word, and one birthday.
One became two, and two became four,
and soon came the first day of school.

We counted grades, scores, and years,
and counted our failure in each crush.
Then came paychecks, houses, and more,
and we kept counting what came next.

Now it is time to count eighty candles,
having mastered the art of counting.
We counted everything around us,
except the moments we were living.

Now I look back at the ledger,
wondering what I could not count—
the days we missed laughing together,
the hours we could have loved more.

The Power of Perspective: How We See the World Shapes Our Reality

Writing in response to the prompt Friday Writings #242: Perspective

Last Sunday wasn't exactly my day.

My team lost the match. I missed my train. And to make matters worse, I missed a get-together with an old friend I had lost touch with and was really looking forward to meeting.

On my way back, sitting in the train, I noticed the person sitting next to me. He was cheerful, smiling and thoroughly enjoying himself.

We were sitting in the same train, travelling through the same city, on the same Sunday. Yet, somehow, we were experiencing two completely different worlds.

And that got me thinking about perspective.

We like to think we are seeing the world as it is. But are we seeing the world around us—or our interpretation of it?

Two people can stand side by side at exactly the same moment and inhabit completely different universes. One sees an ending; the other sees a beginning. One sees chaos; the other sees possibility.

The same rain can ruin one person's day and make another feel romantic. The same empty road can feel lonely to one person and liberating to another. The same setback can make one person give up while another sees an opportunity to start again.

Two people live through the same day. One finds boredom; the other finds beauty. Same city, same job, same circumstances—and yet, completely different meanings.

Because meaning doesn't simply arrive. We make it. We build it. We breathe it into existence.

Nothing is entirely fixed. Every event is, in some way, a mirror, reflecting the observer as much as the thing being observed.

Perspective does more than colour reality.

In its quiet, relentless way, it creates the reality we experience.

Living the Change

Posted in response to Friday Writings #241: Change

Epigraph

Perhaps the deeper part of living an authentic life is accepting its inherent brokenness. We are constantly told that, given enough time, all pain will heal, and that we should emerge from suffering stronger and better than before. But some pains do not heal—and they do not have to. Grief, betrayal, shame and profound loss may remain permanently etched within us. Acceptance is not resignation; it is learning to live with what cannot be changed, and finding the courage to build a life around it rather than against it. Perhaps that is what it means to thrive: not returning to who we once were, but becoming fully, unmistakably our own.

Living the Change

Some pains may never heal, and that's alright;
losses that leave a silence, we must let them stay.
Grief, shame, the sting of betrayal from the past
may make a home just below the surface.

We love to believe that time will erase each scar,
that healing will return us to who we once were;
every wound must somehow make us stronger,
suffering must teach us how to live better.

We need not aim to erase what once broke,
nor make every wound a source of strength;
for acceptance of scars and grief is not giving up—
it is learning to live with what cannot change.

Keep the Window Open

 

Keep the Window Open

Despair may sneak in with a setback or bad news,
but delight always finds its way in through the smallest openings.
All that is required is acceptance.

Despair does not always knock.

Sometimes it slips in quietly,
holding hands with a setback,
and takes over my world.

It tells me to close the curtains,
to count what is missing in life,
under the pretence that it is wisdom.

But I keep the window open.

For delight to find its way in—
with the scent of fresh bread,
on a raindrop kissing thirsty earth.

In a child's carefree laughter,
or in an old photograph,
bringing back fond memories.

Delight does not ask.

If the sadness has left,
it finds the smallest opening
and slips through.

Despair may be all-dominating,
but delight is soft and sweet,
asking me to give it a chance

by keeping my window open.

A Bottle of Happiness

 writing in response to Friday Writings #239: Down to the Bone

Epigraph

When joy fills our hearts, we long to share it with others. Yet happiness, too, should unite people, not become a cause of division.

Sometimes I feel happy,
So happy that I want to share it
With someone unknown,
Someone very far away,
On the other side of the sea.

I wish I could gather that feeling,
Place it inside a bottle,
Seal it carefully,
Whisper a message of hope,
Before casting it into the sea.

Perhaps one day
It will wash upon a distant shore,
Into the hands of a stranger—
A princess or a pauper—
Who needs it more than I do.

They may uncork it with a smile,
Listen to my whisper,
Or simply feel an unexpected warmth,
And, for no reason they can name,
Be happier than I felt.


Then I wonder...
A strange thought, isn't it?
The happiness we long to share
May become the very thing
People quarrel over-
A bone of contention.

A Breakfast I Couldn't Resist

 

There are some temptations that are simply too delicious to ignore.

As I waited for my flight out of Kolkata, I spotted one of my favourite breakfast combinations on the menu— puri, bhaji and chana. Deep-fried? Absolutely. Spicy? Just the way I like it. Healthy? Let's not go there.

Needless to say, I ordered it without a second thought.

Fortunately, I remembered to take a picture before it disappeared from the plate.