Bye bye 2025

What I Lost

• My father, mother, and brother not to death, but to truth.
  I lost them the moment I named patterns that had existed for years, questioned promises that were never honoured, and refused to carry silence as loyalty.
• My husband  when I admitted that the emotional and financial security I once felt in the marriage was no longer there.
  I chose honesty over pretending stability.
• A few peripheral relationships  people who were comfortable as long as I stayed agreeable, muted, and non-confrontational.
  Calling out inconsistency has a way of clearing rooms.

What I Gained

• Resilience — not the motivational kind, but the quiet kind that learns how to stand even when the ground collapses.
• Emotional impermanence — a lived understanding of this too shall pass, not as comfort, but as fact.
• Boundaries — clearly drawn, non-negotiable, and no longer followed by guilt or justification.
• Voice — the ability to express without shrinking, editing, or cushioning the truth to make others comfortable.
• Self-respect — earned by choosing alignment over approval.
• Spiritual grounding — not borrowed from gurus or rituals, but discovered in solitude.
  When your most precious relationships fall away, you inevitably meet yourself.
  And somewhere in that meeting, faith stops being theoretical.

Jiska koi nahi hota, uska bhagwan hota hai —

not as a consolation, but as an experience.

Bye bye 2025 u were brutal but you were necessary. 

What I want in 2026 : A shoulder to rest my head on when I get weary and tired and  a pet that loves me unconditionally 🐶 actually make that just a pet , resting my head on anyone’s shoulder is just beyond me anymore : )

On breaking some bonds

People talk about karmic bonds as if they dissolve through insight or acceptance. They don’t. Most of the time, they end through exhaustion.

A karmic bond is difficult to leave because it doesn’t live in memories alone. It lives in habits of thought, in emotional reflexes, in the nervous system. You can understand why it didn’t work and still feel pulled back into it. Insight helps, but it doesn’t free you.

What keeps the bond alive isn’t love in the ideal sense. It’s unfinished business—things never said, choices never made, accountability that never arrived. The mind keeps returning, not because the connection was right, but because it was unresolved.

Breaking it is rarely graceful.

It involves repeatedly choosing against your own impulses. It means stopping yourself from revisiting old conversations, resisting the urge to check, compare, interpret signs, or imagine alternate endings. None of this feels spiritual. It feels like withdrawal.

There is also anger in it. At them, for their avoidance or inconsistency. At yourself, for staying longer than you should have. At life, for allowing something intense to exist without a viable future. This anger doesn’t mean you haven’t healed. It means you’re seeing clearly.

What finally weakens a karmic bond is not forgiveness or closure. It’s disappointment that you no longer override. The moment you stop excusing what hurt you, the bond begins to lose its authority.

You don’t break a karmic bond by reframing it as meaningful. You break it by admitting that it required too much self-betrayal to continue.

Even then, it doesn’t disappear all at once. It fades unevenly. Some days you feel free; other days you feel pulled back into old emotional muscle memory. This doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means the bond was real and deeply ingrained.

Eventually, something shifts. Not peace—just neutrality. The story loses urgency. The person stops feeling central to your inner life. You don’t need to replace the bond with something else; you just stop feeding it.

Permanently re tired

At 40-plus, I’ve discovered a superpower I never asked for: being permanently tired. Not regular tired soul tired, the kind that makes you question why people over 30 are still allowed to create drama. At this age, my bandwidth is so limited it might as well be prepaid data in a remote village.

Which is why I’ve officially decided: I have zero capacity to entertain sub-par behaviour from anyone. Colleagues, neighbours, relatives, that one overly enthusiastic cousin everyone is on notice.

Everyone… except my offspring.

Because motherhood apparently comes with a lifetime subscription to nonsense we never signed up for. So while I won’t tolerate adults behaving like toddlers, I will, paradoxically, tolerate an actual toddler trapped inside a teenage body—complete with eye rolls, mood swings, and a mysteriously empty fridge.