There are moments, subtle and quiet, that leave a lasting mark on the heart. For me, it’s not grand gestures or loud achievements that captivate, it’s the little things.
The delicate scent of jasmine in a garland is an anchor of joy. The twinkle of stars overhead is yet another joy. The playful breeze over the fields.
I’m drawn to colors, their harmony, and even the stories they tell when that harmony breaks.
Sounds and movements enchant me babbling baby, the jingle of bangles, the flicker of lamps in a silent room, the gentle flow of water, and the whisper of leaves in the wind.
At the core of everything, it’s love and connection that move me. A mother’s heart nurtures with care. A father’s hands work tirelessly. There is the dim glow of our home lamp. There is the warmth of a grandmother’s quilt. Each speaks of a bond. Each illustrates a rhythm and a belonging.
And above all, I’m in awe of courage, the quiet strength of those who endure, the mysterious march of time, and the scars we carry like stories on our skin.
There’s beauty in the toil, life in the wear, and yes, a kind of madness in living fully.
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