But, everything got an expiry date no matter what, the same goes with my bonding with this blog and the person behind this blog, who made my every dream come true.

As, my last post on this blog, i want to share something close to my heart.

For seven long years, the little Rain Cloud and the Sprout shared the same patch of the valley. 

Their bond was anything but simple; it was a wild, unpredictable landscape of seasons. 

In the beginning, they were inseparable. 

The Cloud, vibrant and full of energy, would roll in with refreshing showers, and the Sprout would stretch its green leaves toward the sky, laughing in the mist. 

The Cloud taught the Sprout how to find its own strength, urging it to grow deep roots so it could stand tall even when the fierce valley winds howled. 

But their friendship was a stormy one.

They were opposites who collided as often as they comforted. 

There were seasons of bitter frost where the Cloud grew heavy and dark, blocking out the sun, and the Sprout would shut its leaves tight in frustration. 

They had loud, thundering arguments that echoed across the hills. 

The Cloud would flash with lightning, and the Sprout would stubborn its roots into the dirt, refusing to bend. 

Yet, no matter how fierce the tempest, they always survived it.

The Cloud would inevitably return with a soft, apologetic mist, and the Sprout would open its leaves again, forgiving the darkness. 

For seven years, everyone in the valley thought their bond was unbreakable—tempered by the very storms they created. 

Then came the year of the Great Drought, followed by a relentless monsoon.

The Cloud, trying desperately to protect the Sprout, poured everything it had into the soil.

 It rained day and night, thinking this was what the Sprout needed to survive. 

But one afternoon, through a break in its own fog, the Cloud looked down closely. 

The Sprout wasn’t laughing anymore. 

Its leaves were heavy, its stems were bruised, and the soil beneath it was drowning. 

In trying to hold on tightly and provide protection, the Cloud’s constant presence had become an overwhelming weight. 

The Sprout looked exhausted, drained by the perpetual cycle of storm and rescue. 

In the past, a moment like this would have triggered a loud argument. 

The Cloud would have thundered, the Sprout would have cried out, and they would have chased each other through another cycle of apologies. 

But this time, a quiet stillness settled over the Cloud. 

It looked at the weary Sprout and realized a painful truth: its rains were no longer nurturing; they were breaking the very thing it loved.

The Sprout deserved a quiet, peaceful sky to simply breathe and heal. 

The Cloud did not flash its lightning. 

It did not shout.

Instead, it made a silent, heavy choice. 

With a heavy heart, the Cloud gathered its remaining mist and began to drift away. 

It pulled its shadows off the valley floor, exposing the soil to the open air.

 It moved slowly over the distant, jagged peaks of the mountains, completely removing itself from the Sprout's horizon. 

It severed its ties to the valley, ensuring it could never accidentally drift back to cause another storm. 

From the far side of the mountain, the Cloud wept a quiet, silent rain into an isolated river.

It was a painful departure, but as it looked back one last time, it saw the valley sky clear into a beautiful, uninterrupted blue. 

The sun warmed the soil, and the Sprout finally stood in perfect peace, breathing freely.

The Moral: 

True companionship changes us forever, leaving marks that time cannot erase.

Yet, the ultimate test of love is not how long we fight to stay, but having the selfless courage to walk away when our presence costs the other person their peace.

Thanks everyone for being part of this beautiful journey of my blog.🥂

G- Goodbye

S - Stay Positive,Healthy and Happy

T- Take Care

By,

Shaina...

When people first met Avinya, they often misread her.

She was the kind of person who did not fill silence just to prove she belonged in it.

She did not chase every invitation, did not laugh at jokes she did not find funny, and did not build her life around being seen by everyone else.

She moved through the world with a calmness that many people confused for dullness. 

Some called her quiet. Some called her reserved. 

A few, unkindly, called her BORING.

Avinya heard it all.

She heard it at family gatherings when relatives asked why she did not “go out more,” as if going out was the only sign that a life was being lived. 

She heard it from former classmates who had turned their evenings into endless noise, while she chose books, long walks, and the company of her own thoughts. 

She heard it in small, careless remarks from people who believed that a person had to be loud to be interesting, always surrounded to be valuable, always performing to be worthy.

At first, those comments troubled her. 

She would return home and look at herself in the mirror, wondering if perhaps they were right. 

Perhaps she was missing something essential.

Perhaps the reason she sat comfortably alone while others seemed to crave constant attention was because something in her was incomplete.

She tried, for a while, to become what others expected.

She forced himself into crowded places where the music was too loud and the conversations too shallow. 

She stayed at gatherings long after she felt drained, nodding, smiling, pretending to enjoy herself.

She answered messages instantly because she thought availability made her likable.

She posted pictures online, hoping that visibility would translate into belonging.

 But each attempt left her feeling strangely hollow, like an actor reciting lines from a play she had never agreed to perform.

The more she tried to fit in, the more disconnected she became from herself.

Then came the year everything shifted.

It did not arrive with fireworks or dramatic warnings. 

It arrived quietly, the way many important things do. 

Avinya lost her job when the company downsized. 

At first, she was stunned. 

She had not imagined that the stable, ordinary rhythm of her life could suddenly break.

The days ahead looked wide and uncertain, and for a moment, panic sat heavily on her chest.

Friends called at first.

They said things like,

 “Don’t worry, you’ll bounce back,” and 

“You should come out tonight, you need to distract yourself.” 

Their kindness was real, but brief. 

As the weeks passed, their calls slowed.

Their invitations became less frequent. 

Her name drifted out of conversations. 

She was not abandoned in a dramatic way; 

She was simply forgotten in the everyday rush of other people’s lives.

And that silence, 

strange as it was,

 became a teacher.

Avinya woke up one morning and realized that no one was coming to rescue her.

 No one was going to organize her life, solve her problems, or hand her a future wrapped neatly in certainty. 

If she wanted to survive this season, she would have to do it herself. 

So she began.

She woke early each morning, not because anyone was watching, but because she needed structure. 

She studied skills her job had never required her to learn. 

She watched tutorials, read articles, took notes, practiced, failed, and tried again. 

She began cooking for herself instead of relying on expensive takeout. 

She fixed the broken drawer in her kitchen, changed the bulb in the hallway, and learned how to mend a torn skirt.

Small things, perhaps, but they taught her a quiet kind of confidence.

She discovered that self-sufficiency was not loneliness. 

It was not exile.

 It was competence. 

It was knowing that even when life turned its back for a while, she could still stand. 

She could still build. 

She could still become.

The days turned into months, and the months began to reshape her.

Where she had once begged for inclusion, she now valued peace.

Where she had once confused attention with affection, she now understood that not everyone who noticed her understood her. 

She stopped asking whether she was interesting enough for everyone else and started asking whether her life made sense to her. 

That question changed everything.

Avinya began to notice how much time people spent fearing solitude, as though being alone meant being empty.

But she found the opposite to be true. 

Alone, she could hear her own thoughts clearly. 

Alone, she could tell the difference between her desires and the expectations of others.

Alone, she could repair the scattered pieces of herself without interruption.

She started running in the early mornings, when the roads were still quiet and the sky was only beginning to wake. 

At first, she could barely manage a few blocks. 

Her lungs burned. 

Her legs resisted. 

But gradually, she grew stronger. 

The discipline of running taught her something no lecture ever had: progress is not always dramatic, but it is always real.

She took walks at dusk and observed the world in a way she had never allowed herself before.

The changing colors of the sky. 

The old man feeding pigeons near the park. 

The woman watering plants on her balcony every evening. 

The children racing each other down narrow lanes. 

Life, she realized, was never boring. 

It was only that many people were too distracted to notice its depth.

And then, almost without warning, something curious happened.

People began to return.

An old colleague asked for her help with a project. 

A neighbor, who had once barely nodded at her, now stopped to talk for long minutes about books, weather and grief. 

A friend she had not heard from in nearly a year reached out and said, “You seem different now. Calmer. Stronger.”

Avinya smiled, but she did not rush to explain herself. 

She knew the truth now: she had not become different because people returned.

She had become different because she had learned not to need them in order to be whole.

Her life was not loud, but it was full.

She had work she cared about.

She had routines that grounded her. 

She had a home she knew how to maintain.

She had interests, discipline, and a kind of inner steadiness that no crowd could give and no crowd could take away.

She could spend an evening alone without feeling abandoned. 

She could sit with her thoughts without fearing them. 

She could walk into a room without begging it to define her.

And that was the moment everything became clear.

The same people who once called her boring were now trying to understand her peace. 

They saw that she did not depend on constant company to feel alive. 

They saw that she did not need to announce her worth.

She carried it quietly, the way mountains carry their age, the way rivers carry their direction.

Still, Avinya did not become arrogant. 

She did not look down on those who loved noise, or crowds, or the thrill of being surrounded.

She simply understood that there are many ways to live, and one of them is not lesser just because it is quieter.

Years later, when someone asked her how she had found such calm, she thought for a moment before answering.

She said that there had been a time when she believed being alone meant being unwanted.

She said she had learned otherwise.

She had learned that solitude could be a workshop, a sanctuary, a mirror.

She had learned that strength was not in how many people clapped for you, but in whether you could continue when no one was clapping at all.

And if she were to sum up her life in one sentence, she would say this:

I am not boring, I am self-sufficient.

By,

Shaina...

I come back like dawn after a long,

quiet night,

softened by silence,

carrying the hush of all the days that shaped me.

For a while, I was only listening —

to the ache, 

to the stillness,

to the small, 

almost forgotten voice inside me

asking to be found again.

And then, slowly,

like sunlight learning the shape of a window,

hope returned.

Self-love returned.

Peace returned.

Not all at once,

but gently,

as if my heart itself had remembered

how to bloom.

Now I choose the tender things —

the warmth of a kind moment,

the grace of an unhurried breath,

the quiet joy hidden in ordinary hours.

I choose to live with open hands,

to welcome each moment

as though it were a gift meant just for me.

This is my soft beginning again.

A return not only to words,

but to wonder.

To healing.

To the beautiful, imperfect rhythm of life.

So here I am —

back with hope in my heart,

self-love in my soul,

peace in my steps,

and gratitude for every moment

that led me home.

By,

Shaina...

In the movie ,"Taare Zameen Par"

The art teacher tells the rude and cursing father of the dyslexic kid about *Solomon Islands..*

In those islands, the tribal don’t cut down a tree. 

They surround the tree and curse it for hours every day..

Within a few weeks, the tree dries up and becomes dead..

Many of us might find that example too difficult to believe.

 How can intangible and invisible thoughts and words kill a tree.!

Well, if you get to read Bruce H. Lipton’s THE BIOLOGY OF BELIEF, you won’t only believe in the Solomon Islands story, but would also think a dozen times before saying something demoralizing to yourself and the people you love..

In this book, Mr. Lipton tells in detail about the power of conscious and subconscious mind..

The subconscious mind is million times more powerful than the conscious mind, and decides most of the things in our lives according to the beliefs it has..

Many times we fail to change an unpleasant habit despite our will-power and consistent efforts..

It’s because the habit has been so strongly programmed in our subconscious mind that the efforts made by our conscious mind hardly make any difference.

Conscious Mind is just a shadow of our Unconscious Mind..

So, when the tribals of Solomon Islands curse a tree, they are actually installing negative and harmful beliefs in the tree’s emotion (yes, trees do have emotions too).

Within few days, those negative emotions becomes a belief & eventually changes the molecular architecture of the tree and kill it from inside..

2500 years ago, when the Buddha said that ‘You are what you think',he was not articulating a random philosophical theory.

Actually, he was telling a scientific fact which is now proved correct by Quantum Physics and Molecular Biology.

The book has a special chapter on Conscious Parenting where it talks about the beneficial and harmful effects of what parents say to their children..

If you are a parent and you keep cursing your child in the name of constructive criticism, you are installing beliefs in their mind which will keep harming them forever..

But if you keep appreciating them in a sincere way, you are installing beliefs in their mind which will help them entire life..

And also be careful of what you keep saying to yourself.

Repetition of words and thoughts is the best way to install a belief in your subconscious mind..

If you keep saying you are a loser,don’t be surprised if you become one within a few months or years..

And if you have friends who keep saying such things to you, there is no harm in saying a quick goodbye to them..

May be you value the friendship a lot. But you must value yourself a little more..

So accept all as they are....

Love all unconditionally

By,

shaina...

When God created woman he was working late on the 6th day.......

An angel came by and asked." Why spend so much time on her?"

The lord answered. "Have you seen all the specifications I have to meet to shape her?"

She must function on all kinds of situations, 

She must be able to embrace several kids at the same time,

Have a hug that can heal anything from a bruised knee to a broken heart,

She must do all this with only two hands,"

She cures herself when sick and can work 18 hours a day"

THE ANGEL was impressed" Just two hands.....impossible!

And this is the standard model?"

The Angel came closer and touched the woman"

"But you have made her so soft, Lord".

"She is soft", said the Lord,

"But I have made her strong. You can't imagine what she can endure and overcome"

"Can she think?" The Angel asked...

The Lord answered, "Not only can she think, she can reason and negotiate"

The Angel touched her cheeks....

"Lord, it seems this creation is leaking! You have put too many burdens on her" 

"She is not leaking...it is a tear" The Lord corrected the Angel…

"What's it for?" Asked the Angel.

The Lord said. "Tears are her way of expressing her grief, her doubts, her love, her loneliness, her suffering and her pride."...

This made a big impression on the Angel,

"Lord, you are a genius. You thought of everything.

A woman is indeed marvellous"

Lord said."Indeed she is.

She has strength that amazes a man.

She can handle trouble and carry heavy burdens.

She holds happiness, love and opinions.

She smiles when she feels like screaming.

She sings when she feels like crying, cries when happy and laughs when afraid.

She fights for what she believes in.

Her love is unconditional.

Her heart is broken when a next-of-kin or a friend dies but she finds strength to get on with life"

The Angel asked: So she is a perfect being?

The lord replied: No. She has just one drawback

"She often forgets what she is worth".

Send it to all the women u respect ....👍

And to all men who respect woman 👍👍

W O M A N:

● Changes her name.

● Changes her home.

● Leaves her family.

● Moves in with you.

● Builds a home with you.

● Gets pregnant for you.

● Pregnancy changes her body.

● She gets fat.

● Almost gives up in the labour room due to the unbearable pain of child birth..

● Even the kids she delivers bear your name..

Till the day she dies.. 

everything she does...

 cooking, cleaning your house, taking care of your parents, bringing up your children, earning, advising you, ensuring you can be relaxed, maintaining all family relations, everything that benefit you..

 sometimes at the cost of her own health, hobbies and beauty.

So who is really doing whom a favour?

Dear men, appreciate the women in your lives always, because it is not easy to be a woman.

*Being a woman is priceless*

WOMAN MEANS:-

W - WONDERFUL MOTHER.

O - OUTSTANDING FRIEND.

M - MARVELLOUS DAUGHTER.

A - ADORABLE SISTER.

N - NICEST GIFT TO MEN FROM GOD.

I respect women.

By,

Shaina...