Happiness, as perceived through our senses, is but a faint reflection of true bliss. What we often call happiness in this material world is bound by time, place, and circumstance—it rises and falls with the ever-changing waves of desire and fulfilment. The taste of a favourite dish, the touch of comfort, and the sound of praise—these are sensory stimulations that give birth to momentary joy. Yet, the moment they fade, we are left seeking again, caught in an endless cycle of craving and loss.
The scriptures teach that real happiness does not depend on the senses but on the state of consciousness. A developed consciousness experiences both happiness and distress more deeply, not because it suffers more, but because it perceives truth beyond illusion. It recognizes that both pleasure and pain belong to the material plane and that the soul, in its pure state, is untouched by either.
Every living being feels happiness and distress according to the degree of development of their consciousness. A fish may feel satisfaction in water, an animal in food and shelter, and a human in emotional or intellectual fulfilment. But as consciousness evolves, the soul begins to question the nature of this satisfaction. It begins to remember that its true happiness lies not in the external, but in connection with the Divine.
The Bhagavad Gita reminds us that the pleasures born of contact with the senses are temporary—they have a beginning and an end, and therefore, they are sources of suffering. True happiness is spiritual; it is eternal, self-sufficient, and beyond the reach of the material mind. It arises from the realization of our eternal identity as spiritual beings, parts of the Supreme Consciousness.
When the senses are controlled and the mind is anchored in the soul, we awaken to a bliss that is not dependent on anything outside of us. That is ānanda—the joy of the soul in harmony with the Divine.
So, the happiness we chase in the material world is not real happiness—it is a reflection, a dream within a dream. The moment we awaken, we see that joy was never lost. It was merely forgotten beneath the layers of illusion, waiting patiently within us all along.
When One Grows and the Other Stays Still: The Silent Gap in Marriage
Marriage is not just about love. It is about growth, individual and together. Two people enter into a bond with dreams, values, and the hope that they will walk side by side through life’s seasons. But what happens when one chooses growth while the other resists it?
In my own journey, I kept growing. I sought to learn, evolve, and stretch my mind and spirit. But he was not interested in this path. What began as a small gap between us slowly widened into a distance that became impossible to ignore.
Instead of seeing my growth as something beautiful, he felt uncomfortable, as if my progress belittled him. He saw my efforts to improve as a judgment against his stillness. And in his discomfort, I was silenced. My voice, my dreams, and my evolution became too much for him to bear.
The truth is that growth can feel threatening when one partner stays stagnant. But growth is not about competition. It’s about expansion, about becoming the best version of ourselves while holding space for each other. In a marriage, if both do not grow together, cracks begin to show. One person’s journey should not silence the other. It should inspire.
When one partner feels blamed for simply evolving, the relationship shifts from partnership to power struggle. And in that silence, something breaks.
If there is one lesson I carry from this, it is that love without growth is incomplete. True partnership means walking together, supporting each other, even if the pace is different. Because in the end, marriage is not about holding each other back, it’s about rising together.
When One Grows and the Other Stays Still: The Silent Gap in Marriage
Marriage is not just about love. It is about growth, individual and together. Two people enter into a bond with dreams, values, and the hope that they will walk side by side through life’s seasons. But what happens when one chooses growth while the other resists it?
In my own journey, I kept growing. I sought to learn, evolve, and stretch my mind and spirit. But he was not interested in this path. What began as a small gap between us slowly widened into a distance that became impossible to ignore.
Instead of seeing my growth as something beautiful, he felt uncomfortable, as if my progress belittled him. He saw my efforts to improve as a judgment against his stillness. And in his discomfort, I was silenced. My voice, my dreams, and my evolution became too much for him to bear.
The truth is that growth can feel threatening when one partner stays stagnant. But growth is not about competition. It’s about expansion, about becoming the best version of ourselves while holding space for each other. In a marriage, if both do not grow together, cracks begin to show. One person’s journey should not silence the other. It should inspire.
When one partner feels blamed for simply evolving, the relationship shifts from partnership to power struggle. And in that silence, something breaks.
If there is one lesson I carry from this, it is that love without growth is incomplete. True partnership means walking together, supporting each other, even if the pace is different. Because in the end, marriage is not about holding each other back, it’s about rising together.
When One Grows and the Other Stays Still: The Silent Gap in Marriage
Marriage is not just about love. It is about growth, individual and together. Two people enter into a bond with dreams, values, and the hope that they will walk side by side through life’s seasons. But what happens when one chooses growth while the other resists it?
In my own journey, I kept growing. I sought to learn, evolve, and stretch my mind and spirit. But he was not interested in this path. What began as a small gap between us slowly widened into a distance that became impossible to ignore.
Instead of seeing my growth as something beautiful, he felt uncomfortable, as if my progress belittled him. He saw my efforts to improve as a judgment against his stillness. And in his discomfort, I was silenced. My voice, my dreams, and my evolution became too much for him to bear.
The truth is that growth can feel threatening when one partner stays stagnant. But growth is not about competition. It’s about expansion, about becoming the best version of ourselves while holding space for each other. In a marriage, if both do not grow together, cracks begin to show. One person’s journey should not silence the other. It should inspire.
When one partner feels blamed for simply evolving, the relationship shifts from partnership to power struggle. And in that silence, something breaks.
If there is one lesson I carry from this, it is that love without growth is incomplete. True partnership means walking together, supporting each other, even if the pace is different. Because in the end, marriage is not about holding each other back, it’s about rising together.
Stay Angry or Stay Free: Choosing the Path of Inner Freedom
Life has a way of taking things from us, sometimes without warning, sometimes in ways that feel unbearably unfair. In those moments, anger and frustration become our companions. We fight battles against what we can not control, and in the struggle, we often lose ourselves.
For years, I lived in that storm, anchored into pain, clinging to what was gone. But pain is not freedom; it is a cage. The truth is simple yet powerful: you can either stay angry or you can stay free.
When everything external is stripped away, doubt begins to whisper. You question your worth, your choices, even your future. Yet, it is precisely in that emptiness that the universe invites you to trust. To believe that what was taken away was never meant to define you. To understand that loss is not the end, but the beginning of finding yourself again.
Freedom is not born from holding on. It is born from letting go. It is choosing faith over fear, trust over resistance, and surrendering over control. And in that surrender, you uncover a deeper truth: what you thought was the end of everything was actually the start of becoming who you were always meant to be.
So the question stands: will you stay angry, or will you stay free? Freedom is where new beginnings are born, where light breaks through the darkness, and where your spirit remembers its power. The universe is waiting to meet you on the other side of your surrender, with more than you ever thought you lost.
“If I Have to Ask, I Don’t Want It Anymore” – The Silent Cry of Women
Frida Kahlo’s powerful words to her husband are a timeless reminder of the emotional labour women often shoulder in relationships:
“I’m not asking you to kiss me or to apologize when I think you’re wrong. I won’t ask you to hug me when I need it most or to tell me I’m beautiful, even if it’s a lie. I won’t ask you to write me sweet words, call me to share how your day went, or tell me you miss me. I won’t ask you to appreciate what I do for you, to care for me when my soul is weary, or to support my decisions. I won’t even ask you to listen when I have a thousand stories to share. I won’t ask you for anything, not even to stay by my side forever. Because if I have to ask, I don’t want it anymore.”
These words pierce deep because they echo the silent grief of countless women, women who give endlessly, love without conditions, and yet often find themselves standing alone in the very spaces where they long to be seen.
Indian culture is filled with stories of such women, strong, resilient, yet expected to endure without asking. Draupadi in the Mahabharata was humiliated in a court full of men, and yet she had to plead for justice when it should have been instinctively given. Sita in the Ramayana followed Rama into exile, bore every hardship with love and loyalty, and yet her purity was questioned, her worth measured not by her devotion but by suspicion.
Women, both in myth and reality, have carried burdens silently, believing that love, respect, and care should not need to be begged for. They longed for partners who understood them without words but too often were left to prove themselves over and over again.
Shakuntala, in Kalidasa’s epic, waited in quiet hope for her beloved Dushyanta to recognize her and the love they shared, her patience reflecting the eternal truth that a woman should not have to demand what should be freely given. History offers us Rani Lakshmibai, who fought with courage and might not only for her kingdom but also as a symbol of dignity and resilience. Yet even women like her were often left to bear the weight of battles, both external and internal, on their own.
The truth is, women do not want to beg for respect, love, or support. These are not privileges; they are the foundation of any bond. When a woman has to plead to be heard or remind her partner to care, the essence of the relationship begins to shatter.
What women truly desire is presence, not perfection. They want to be seen when they are weary, cherished without conditions, and supported without reminders. A man’s true strength lies not just in his ability to provide but in his ability to empathize, to act without being asked, to love without needing a request.
Because if she has to ask, as Frida so powerfully said, she doesn’t want it anymore.
From Sita’s silence to Draupadi’s cry, from Shakuntala’s patience to Rani Lakshmibai’s courage, the stories of women remind us that love, respect, and support should never be earned through suffering or demanded in desperation.
A woman deserves a love that flows naturally, respect that is instinctive, and support that arrives unspoken. Anything less is not love—it is labour.
Sabar ( Patience) , Shukur( Gratitude) & Yakeen(Faith): trusting the divine plan and timing.
In the quiet pauses of life, when our prayers seem unanswered and our hearts grow restless, we are invited to remember three eternal companions: Sabar (Patience), Shukur (Gratitude), and Yakeen (Faith).
A simple story illustrates this truth beautifully.
Two beggars came to a door seeking bread. One was handed a loaf immediately and sent away. The other was asked to wait. As moments turned into hours, doubt filled his heart: “Why am I being denied? What fault lies within me that the other was preferred?”
Unbeknownst to him, a fresh loaf was still in the oven, being baked especially for him—something warmer, fresher, and more fulfilling than what the first beggar had received.
This is how divine wisdom unfolds. What feels like delay is often preparation. What feels like silence is often God arranging something better. His timing is never rushed, never delayed—always perfect.
To endure these waiting seasons, we are called to embody:
Sabar (Patience): the surrender that accepts God’s timing with serenity.
Shukur (Gratitude): the light that keeps us grounded in thankfulness for what already is.
Yakeen (Faith): the unshakable trust that God is always weaving goodness, even when we can not see the threads.
We do not know what tomorrow holds, but we know the One who holds tomorrow. And that alone is enough to soften the heart and quiet the soul.
As the wise saying goes:
“My heart is at ease knowing that what was meant for me will never miss me, and what misses me was never meant for me.”
When life feels uncertain, let us anchor ourselves in patience, gratitude, and faith. For in them lies the secret to inner peace and the trust that everything—every delay, every blessing, every trial—is happening for our highest good.
A Gentle Prayer:
Dear Universe. Grant me Sabar to wait with peace, Shukur to cherish every blessing, and Yakeen to trust Your wisdom in all that unfolds. Let my heart rest in the certainty that what You have written for me is always for my highest good.
Happiness is Grown, Not Found
Many of us hold onto the idea that happiness lives somewhere beyond our current reality, on the other side of a new job, a new relationship, or a fresh start. But the truth is, happiness doesn’t magically appear after change. It’s cultivated in the soil of where you already stand, with the seeds of daily effort and consistency.
It’s tempting to chase greener pastures, imagining that fulfilment waits for us elsewhere. Yet, like any garden, growth doesn’t happen by chance. It requires intention, care, and commitment. A career doesn’t blossom overnight. It thrives when you nurture your skills, show up with integrity, and keep learning. Relationships don’t deepen by default. They grow when we listen, invest time, and offer kindness. Even health and personal goals demand steady attention; neglecting them while waiting for “the right time” only delays progress.
Running away from problems might give temporary relief, but it rarely provides lasting peace. Solutions emerge not from avoidance but from the willingness to nurture change where it matters most. When you water the areas of your life that feel dry or neglected, you give them the chance to flourish.
The myth of “perfect circumstances” often keeps us stuck. We wait for the right moment, the right person, or the right conditions to finally live fully. But perfection isn’t coming. It’s something we create through the way we choose to show up, even in imperfect situations.
Happiness, then, is not a destination waiting “out there.” It’s a practice of building and shaping your present reality. Each choice to invest in what you have, each moment of consistency, and each act of care lays the foundation for the life you want.
Stop searching for a flawless life. Start shaping one. Because the joy you seek is not far away, it’s already within reach, in the way you decide to live today.
This is me. I honour this strength
Today, I honour my strengths. I acknowledge the gifts Maa has placed within me. I am complete, I am whole, I am divine.”
I have the courage to face storms in life and rise again.
I hold deep compassion and empathy for others.
I carry resilience, even when life tests me to my core.
I have the wisdom to surrender and trust divine timing.
I show dedication and sincerity in everything I commit to.
I value growth and learning, even when it feels uncomfortable.
I have the strength to let go of what no longer serves me.
I nurture others with love and guidance.
I am creative in thought and expression.
I bring discipline and organization into my work.
I hold faith that carries me through uncertainty.
I have the ability to reflect, heal, and transform pain into wisdom.
I possess the strength to choose peace over conflict.
I radiate Shakti, the power of divine feminine energy.
Divine gratitude to Maa Durga for guiding you through these nine days and for blessing me with these strengths.
You are not lost. You are being realigned
Life has a way of making us believe that discomfort is a sign of failure, rejection, or a dead end. Yet, if we look closer, discomfort is rarely a wall that blocks us. More often, it is a doorway waiting to be opened, a threshold asking us to step into a new chapter.
When everything feels shaky, when nothing seems to fit, it’s not because you’ve taken the wrong path. It’s because you’re being asked to realign with the truth of who you are becoming. Growth does not happen in the comfort zone; it happens when your soul is nudged to stretch, to shed, to evolve. That unease you feel is not punishment. It’s guidance.
Think of the moments in your life when change felt like chaos. At the time, it may have seemed like you were falling apart, but in hindsight, those very seasons often led you toward clarity, strength, and alignment with your deeper self. The trembling steps you take now are not signs of weakness but of courage. Even small, shaky movements through uncertainty bring you closer to the life that is waiting on the other side of the doorway.
So when you feel lost, pause and remember: you are not off-track. You are in transition. You are being gently, though sometimes painfully, realigned with what truly belongs to you. Trust the process. Trust yourself. And when fear whispers that you’re not ready, walk forward anyway. Doorways don’t stay open forever—this one is yours to step through.
SELF LOVE AND SOUL HEALING 