mindmusingss

[mindmusingss]

Isn’t it strange how your favorite time of the year is also the hardest?

The days were messy, uncertain, and stressful—yet they felt raw and real.

Despite everything, when I think of the time that stays with me the most, it’s those days that come to mind.

Why?

Maybe because that’s when I felt everything—lost, healing, hopeful, scared, alive.

Maybe that’s when I finally met myself.

And perhaps, even the pain helped me rise—stronger, softer, more alive than before.

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

Isn’t it strange how your favorite time of the year is also the hardest?

The days were messy, uncertain, and stressful—yet they felt raw and real.

Despite everything, when I think of the time that stays with me the most, it’s those days that come to mind.

Why?

Maybe because that’s when I felt everything—lost, healing, hopeful, scared, alive.

Maybe that’s when I finally met myself.

And perhaps, even the pain helped me rise—stronger, softer, more alive than before.

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

The propaganda I’m not falling for is this: “Live by the book—be a good parent, a good employee, or a good citizen.”

Funny how we spend our whole lives trying to be enough for the world, and still end up feeling hollow at home.

We try to be perfect, to excel at everything—but somewhere in that pursuit, we fail to be a good son or daughter. We keep delaying visits, putting off calls, thinking we still have time—that our loved ones will always be around. And then, they’re gone.

All we’re left with are blurry memories—trying to recall their laugh and the warmth of their hug... but they fade.

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

And sometimes, after feeling everything and then nothing, you realize that emptiness is just space-space for something new, something lighter, something better.

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

When I look back at myself just a few months ago—the mistakes I made, the misconceptions I believed, and the girl with such low self-esteem—I feel both pity and empathy for her. She went through so much. She was scared, suffocated, angry, and longing for love.

But today, she learned the beauty of self-love. She has found a hope—to live a meaningful, beautiful life. She’s learning to understand herself, to breathe through the chaos, and to let go of what no longer serves her.

Her heart still aches at times, carrying the weight of every scar. But now, those wounds whisper, “You endured it well. I'm proud of you. You should be too.”

You’ve come so far.

Keep believing in yourself.

You got this.

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

I’ve been staring at her photo, trying to remember her voice, her laugh.

But as time passes, even her face begins to blur—and her voice fades with it.

Isn’t it heartbreaking? We never truly understand the value of someone until they’re gone forever. I thought I had more time. I believed there would be plenty of chances left. But there aren’t.

There never were.

I just didn’t know.

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

Do you know what makes life feel lighter? 

Realizing that sometimes, it’s okay to make the wrong decisions too. The moment you stop chasing perfection and start embracing your flaws—that’s when life truly begins to feel easier and a little less heavy.

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

They said:

"If I could go back in time, I’d undo it all — the choices, the mistakes, the hurt."

And I said:

"I don’t want the past. I want the future — the version where I’ve survived the storm... and maybe, finally, get to heal."

Because some things can't be undone. Even if I go back... it’ll still break the same way.

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

Ever felt like everything’s falling apart… and then suddenly, a cricket match brings you back to life?

Because honestly, it's not just a game — it’s an emotion.

You sit down just to “take a break,” but before you know it, you're smiling from ear to ear — cheering at every six, holding your breath at every wicket. Fingers crossed the entire time, heart racing with every run — especially when everything came down to that one last ball. Fans from both sides praying like everything depends on it — and for a moment, it felt like even God was caught in a dilemma: whose prayer to answer?

That’s the magic of cricket — it speaks the language of the heart.❤

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

When life felt too heavy, cricket reminded me what joy felt like✨❤️

I was feeling lost, overwhelmed with so much to do. I couldn’t even remember the last time I felt truly happy or smiled without a reason. Then cricket arrived — not as just a game, but as therapy, comfort, and a reason to smile again.

Just making time to watch a match felt like a breather. Without even realizing it, I’d find myself smiling from ear to ear, getting excited with every six, every wicket. Fingers crossed the entire time, heart racing with every run — especially when everything came down to that one last ball. 💓

Both teams’ fans praying like their lives depended on it — and it felt like even God was caught in a dilemma: whose prayer to answer? 😥

And just like that, a match became a memory, a heartbeat, an emotion. 🥹❤

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

After all these years, Virat 🥹❤️— you carried a dream, a ray of hope, a decade of belief, and the hearts of millions. This isn’t just a win; it’s a legacy fulfilled. You deserve every bit of this moment.🏆❤️

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

Pretentiousness! Pretentiousness! Pretentiousness!

I’m so tired of people pretending not to know anything—asking question after question just to seem clueless, when in reality, they know it all.

It feels like mental torture.

And the worst part? They know exactly what they’re doing, yet they still do it.

And the act? Exhausting.

For them? No.

For me? Absolutely.

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

As life gets overwhelming and the weight of the world feels unbearable, we often forget to smile. But I hope you smile...for you. Smile, not because everything's perfect, but because you deserve to find moments of happiness amidst the chaos. Smile to remind yourself of your strength and resilience, for making it through the day. Smile whenever you find joy in little things, because you're worthy of it.

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

“It hits hardest when you see the parts of yourself you wish you didn’t inherit.”

I hate it when I catch glimpses of my father's traits and habits in myself. That same anger, that same uncontrollable impulse—I feel it burning within me. And afterward, the ache it leaves behind is unbearable. It pushes me to become someone better.

It's hard—so damn hard—to unlearn what has been passed down. But if I let those traits take control, they’ll only end up destroying me.

So instead of hating them, I try to transform them. Maybe the reason I recognized them early is because I’m meant to break the cycle. And that realization, painful as it is, is a gift. One I can't afford to waste.

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

Then one day, my mother wasn’t home. My father ate his meal—and surprisingly, picked up his own plate and placed it in the sink. He did it again another day when he wanted a favor from her.

That’s when it hit me:

It’s not about incapability. It’s about convenience—and conditioning.

It’s we women who’ve continued these silent rituals, never questioning them, simply following what was done before us.

We raise sons who believe it’s okay to leave a plate behind.

We raise daughters who pick it up without a second thought.

We carry on these customs, yet never think—we also have the power to unmake them.

Even when the rules are made for us, we rarely stand up and say “No.”

We fear going against the grain.

We fear breaking the pattern.

But what we mistake for weakness is, in fact, the very strength we haven’t learned to use yet.

- Bhavika

He finished his meal, stood up, and walked away—leaving the empty plate right there on the floor. Moments later, my mother quietly walked over and picked it up, placing it in the sink without a word.

I was at my uncle’s place a few days later and saw the same thing. He finished eating, left the plate behind, and my cousin sister waited silently for him to finish so she could pick it up and wash it.

That’s when a thought lingered in my mind:

Why is this ritual followed so religiously without anyone ever questioning it?

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

He finished his meal, stood up, and walked away—leaving the empty plate right there on the floor. Moments later, my mother quietly walked over and picked it up, placing it in the sink without a word.

I was at my uncle’s place a few days later and saw the same thing. He finished eating, left the plate behind, and my cousin sister waited silently for him to finish so she could pick it up and wash it.

That’s when a thought lingered in my mind:

Why is this ritual followed so religiously without anyone ever questioning it?

- Bhavika

[mindmusingss]

Isn't it strange how the more we text, the more we misunderstand?

I’ve always preferred straight, face-to-face conversations—not on Facetime, but in person. I’m not great at texting, and honestly, I don’t think I ever learned how to express myself properly through it. I communicate my feelings, thoughts, and emotions much more clearly when I’m physically present with someone. Sometimes a phone call works too. But texting? It often opens the door to misunderstanding—not always, and not with everyone, but it does happen with a few people, in a few moments.

- Bhavika