Back to Strength, Wrapped in Love

Today felt like a turning point after a long pause. After two weeks, I finally stepped back into the gym. The familiar smell of weights, the rhythm of workouts, and the energy of being there made me feel alive again. It was as if my body was whispering, “Welcome back.” The break had slowed me down, but today I felt that spark returning. Sometimes, even a short gap makes us realize how much we value a routine that builds both strength and spirit.

But the day didn’t just end with that small victory. There was a bigger surprise waiting for me one that touched my heart in the deepest way. A week ago, I casually asked my Anna for something. Today, the parcel arrived all the way from Kashmir. As I opened the box, I felt like a child unwrapping a long awaited gift. My hands trembled with excitement, and my heart was full of gratitude.

It’s not just about the gift; it’s about the love and care wrapped inside it. Anna has always been more than a brother to me he is like a second father, my next appa. His silent way of showing affection speaks louder than words. Even though miles separate us, his thoughtfulness bridges every distance.

As I held the gift, I realized how blessed I am to have someone who never lets me feel alone. The happiness I felt was beyond words, I was truly over the moon.

Thank you, Anna, for reminding me that love is not measured by distance but by the bond we carry in our hearts. Today, I not only regained my strength at the gym but also received a reminder of the strength of family love.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Let Me Sleep, Not to Dream....

     Some nights, I don’t want answers I just want silence. Not the kind filled with buzzing thoughts, but the deep, weightless stillness that John Keats writes about in “To Sleep.” His lines feel less like poetry and more like a whisper to the weary .      Keats doesn’t glorify sleep as a dreamy escape filled with fantasies. Instead, he sees it as a quiet refuge from the noise of life. I remember one night, after back-to-back classes and an unexpected family argument, I sat by my window, emotionally exhausted. No words, no energy just the weight of being awake. That night, I opened Keats. His line, “Seal the hushed casket of my soul,” made me close my eyes. For once, I wasn’t trying to sleep. I was inviting it in like an old friend.      I’ve often found that poetry meets us where no one else can . Keats understood that some days feel too loud, too real. And what we need isn’t escape, but a pause a gentle covering of all that aches. His...
Read more

From Questions to Acceptance: The Quiet Strength Within

Today, I began writing my blog not with clarity, but with a curious uncertainty. I didn’t know where to start or what to write. Once, I was filled with questions. I constantly asked: How? Where? When? Why? What? These questions shaped my journey, my identity, my hunger to understand the world. But something changed. I’ve stopped asking. I’ve begun accepting. Life has slowly revealed its quiet wisdom to me not in answers, but in acceptance. I no longer seek explanations for everything around me. I no longer expect people to explain themselves, prove themselves, or live up to my vision of who they should be. Why should they? Everyone is walking their own path. It’s not my responsibility to evaluate their pace, their truth, or their struggle. I’ve learned not to expect, not to demand, not to act out of pressure or illusion. Instead, I’ve chosen to receive what life brings openly, peacefully. “I don’t expect, so I don’t act. I just accept.” That is my mantra now. I’ve found that ac...
Read more

When Hope Sings Softly Within !!!

     There are times in life when everything outside falls silent, dreams are delayed, plans fall apart, and people we trust walk away. Yet, even in such silence, I’ve felt something quietly fluttering within me a small, unwavering voice that says, “Move forward.” Emily Dickinson’s poem “Hope is the Thing with Feathers” captures that feeling so perfectly. She compares hope to a bird that perches in our soul, singing wordlessly through the fiercest storms.      What struck me most is how Dickinson says this bird “never stops at all.” That line stayed with me. In my own life, when I felt lost after rejections, personal losses, or simply long nights filled with doubt, I didn’t always have someone to lean on. But this soft inner song remained. It never asked for anything in return. Just like Dickinson’s bird, hope never demanded food, praise, or reward. It just kept singing.      I’ve learned that true hope doesn’t come from external success o...
Read more