pratap075

[pratap075]

I have heard a lot of people saying, why do we celebrate birthdays? It’s just one year in our life that gets deducted, and we haven’t achieved anything in this year, so what’s the meaning of celebrating it? But I think you have to celebrate your birthdays not because you achieved something, but because you survived this year.

What if you died in a car accident? What if you were lying in a hospital bed right now, diagnosed with something serious? What if you had lost someone so close that this birthday wouldn’t even feel like it mattered?

But you are safe. I know some of you failed and were not able to achieve something, but celebrate because you still have chances to make all that work. Celebrate because you still have time to make things work. Your mind is working, your heart is beating. Celebrate because you just failed - not died.

Because lots of people are not able to make it here. Life didn’t give them a chance to make things right again. Life never gave them this cake with a cherry in front of them. Life hasn’t given them a chance to think all this on their birthday.

So blow those candles with a smile on your face. Pop that champagne, not because you achieved something, but celebrate because you’re able to.

[pratap075]

I think it’s a human tendency to form certain parameters for everything, shaped by our past experiences. We have a personal definition of comfort, often set by the feeling of being in our own home. We define safety and care based on how our parents or caretakers made us feel. Even something as simple as the sweetness of a drink feels “right” only when it matches the taste of the tea our mother made for us.

We carry these emotional templates with us—measuring every new experience against them. We compare comfort to home, kindness to how we were once treated, and love… to the way we were once loved.

But what happens to those who never had that? What about the ones who never truly felt loved—not at home, not by friends, not even by the world?

When they seek love, they don’t find it. Instead, they get advice. People tell them, “You’re just lonely,” or, “You need to love yourself first.” But how do you love yourself if no one ever showed you what love looks like? If no one ever made you feel seen, safe, or held?

For those people, love is a foreign language. An unknown color. A song they’ve never heard. They don’t need directions to find love. They need someone to introduce them to it.

Because you can only search for something if you know what you’re looking for.

Some people don’t need your wisdom—they need your warmth. They need someone to be their first example of real care. They need someone who listens without fixing, who stays without reason, who gives without asking for anything in return.

You can teach someone how to build a house—but who knows, maybe what they really need is someone to be their home

And maybe, if you’ve been lucky enough to know love, your job is to become that parameter for someone else. Not to save them, but to show them what’s possible. To help them set their own compass. To help them believe that love is not just something they heard about—it’s something they deserve to feel, too.

[pratap075]

[pratap075]

Heaven 🪷🪕

Sometimes, I wonder—what if, one day, someone comes and tells me that your time in heaven is over and I have another chance to live? What if we have already lived our lives, and now we exist in a place we once desired in our past life? What if the concept of heaven and hell, as we understand it,

is nothing more than an illusion—an idea shaped by our beliefs rather than an actual destination?

I think that, heaven and hell are not external realms but reflections of the heart—our perception of the world in which we exists. I see people who never truly enjoy their lives, who make things difficult for those around them, believing that by following certain practices, they will one day attain heaven. But what if someone placed us here and gave us a choice—to choose our own heaven or our own hell?

And that choice itself is where heaven exists. It’s not a reward waiting for us after death but a state of being that we cultivate through our thoughts and actions. Some people live in suffering despite having everything, while others find peace in the simplest of things.

Maybe our greatest mistake is waiting for an afterlife to bring us happiness while ignoring the paradise or the prison we create for ourselves in the present. If we are truly given a chance to live again, wouldn’t it be wiser to stop chasing illusions and start shaping our own heaven here and now?

If so, then heaven is not some distant promise—it is within us, in the way we choose to live. It exists in the present, or it exists nowhere at all.

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[pratap075]

Why do I keep promising myself happiness in the future, when that future isn't even promised to me?

I know that future might not hold me. But what scares me is that I might not be in the future that I dreamed of and paid the price with my present. To conquering my dreams that my present self is afraid to pursue is what the future is all about. The future always seems brighter. I am always much better there. Much different from what I am. But when that future starts to unfold, I find myself breaking my own promises. Those sacred promises I made to keep going. To find solace in knowing that the future has everything I ever wanted. But I forget about the part that I too exist in the future. And I never changed. The self that promised the future to get through the present exists in that future too. By Keeping my happiness secured in the future so as to not let the present steal it. Do I get any part of it? No. Do I get that future with happiness? No. I delay my happiness to an even further future, to make sure that future has it and present shouldn't. To accept happiness in this messed up present feels like failing. If this is happiness why even bother chasing that future which has nothing other than this messy present? So to invent hope I secured my happiness in the future. The farther it is from my hands, the hopeful I get. 

[pratap075]

Sometimes when someone leaves you or suddenly started ghosting you. You start thinking what wrong did I do to them, what mistake did I make and we keep cursing ourselves but I think the first question you should ask yourself is "what did they do to you" because there is a person inside you who need you more than any other in this world if you start ignoring that person's feelings eventually that person will die someday in the journey of finding what you did wrong to someone who don't even care about your feelings.

[pratap075]

What if there isn't light at the end of the tunnel? What if it is just darkness throughout the journey? But you are so eager to point out the certainty of an unknown future you have no control in. Surely for you there "should" be a light at the end; all you have to do is keep on trudging in darkness a bit more. But you are overlooking the other possibility that is overclouded by the "should-have and certainty" of yours. It is just the darkness and the delusion that sooner or later a beam of light will reach you. Maybe we have got fireflies along the way. But I give up on that unattainable, never-reaching light at the end of the tunnel. I refuse to believe in it. I would rather believe in the darkness eating more of me, which would be a certain future, than an uncertain future of a so-called light to eat up all the darkness.

[pratap075]

Everyday when I wakeup it's little cold outside and I don't want to get out of my quilt, so i just turn on my study lamp get a novel and start reading it. But today I woke up & get out of my bed and draw the curtains of my room and suddenly a golden light came straight from my window and fall on my desk. And all those things which looks ordinary to me suddenly started looking beautiful because of that golden light. And I realised that just because I don't draw the curtains I was missing out this feel & this view, and I think this is how life works, if you don't draw the curtains of your heart you will miss out that light which come from people. Just take a chance and draw that curtain and suddenly you will see the ray of light that will fall on those dark corners of your heart and will turn all those ordinary things in your life into beautiful things. I know after some time sun changes its position and this light will stop coming in my room but these pictures these memories will saved in my gallery for life long. This is what actually happens in life, those people who make our life so beautiful with their light (presence) will not stay with us forever. But the memories we make with them and lessons that we learn will saved in the camera roll of our heart for our whole life. I posted these pictures today and these make my Insta feed look little better and just like this, small-small memories of light, small-small photos of light combines and makes the feed of your life look beautiful. 🪐

[pratap075]

Whenever I see or visit an old building, I feel that there is this sad face that I am looking at, not just the house, the old diary with burnt pages, waiting for someone to complete the account of the month's expenses which was left in between for years, the old half-burnt kerosene lamp which is now huddled in a corner out of fear of darkness, waiting for someone to light it again so that it can fight this darkness. The old rusted locks that hold those two separate pieces of wood together that once held the strength to withstand any force in this world for the people inside, but now they just want to fall down and widen the entrance because "there is no one to protect and to stand with strength for". But they aren't falling because the old rusted lock which holds them together waiting for that person who have that piece of metal that can free his spirit and give those wooden gates an eternal sleep. But who knows the key is still stored safely somewhere or not, who knows that unreplacable part of that lock might got lost somewhere. And their story and that hope that someday someone will open him has died forever. May be these two will never meet again and those gates will never able to sleep peacefully.

And how can I forget that old wall clock!! The one that shows the time of the last moment it ticked, dragging its hands slowly because there's no one to look at it before going to work or doing something. She never realized that the time it marked for others would one day catch up with it. Now, even time has betrayed her, and the battery which was her best friend torn her heart apart and applied full force to came out. But she also loses her hope. Just like that broken window whose glass is scattered on the ground because a cricket ball hit her but now there is no one to fight for her, her glasses are of no value for anyone.

And the winter wind sweeps through the empty frame, turning the silent tears of everything in the house into frozen memories.

if you look at it from a distance its just an house but deep down it's an graveyard of those non living things which were full of life in past just like the house itself. A place where life existed, is now the place where only echo remains and whispers of the past stills. The walls, once painted with laughter and warmth, now stand cold and hollow. The doors creak under the weight of memories, but no one opens them anymore. And the floorboards, once trodden with busy footsteps, now only creak under the burden of emptiness. The house is waiting, but for what? No one knows. All that’s left is silence, the kind that wraps around you, making you feel the loss of what once there was but can never be again, but can never be again.

[pratap075]

“Humans are like isolated islands, floating in the sea of fate. Human encounters are like the collision of these lonely islands, and once they touch, there would be an effect. Sometimes, the islands would stick together, in the name of ‘interest’, ‘kinship’, ‘friendship’, ‘love’ and ‘hate’. But eventually, they would separate, walking towards the path of destruction. This is the truth behind life.” ― Gu Zhen Re, Reverend Insanity

[pratap075]

Why do we invent the monster as a metaphor? Surely all we need to do is witness our own cruelty to each other to see the real face of evil.

Mark T. Barnes

[pratap075]

“Scared is how you’re feeling; brave is what you’re doing.”

— Emma Donoghue

[pratap075]

Two rules for creating anything.

1) Make it weird.

2) Make it with love.