Apparently, there isn’t. Because it’s 2:18 AM, I should be asleep and instead I’m writing about a song that was released decades before I was born.

Fair enough hehe.

My insomnia and I have stopped questioning each other’s decisions. Anyways.

The song is Itna Na Mujhse Tu Pyaar Badha by Talat Mahmood and Lata Mangeshkar.

And if you understand Hindi, I highly recommend listening to it before reading further. Not because this is a song review but because some feelings are easier to hear than explain. And this song is full of them.

The first time I heard it, I thought it was beautiful. The tenth time, I noticed the lyrics. The hundredth time, I realized it wasn’t really a song about love.

It was a song about the fear of being loved.

The man spends almost the entire song asking the woman not to love him so much.

Not because he doesn’t care for her. Not because he wants to leave. But because he genuinely believes he cannot give her what she deserves.

He compares himself to a wandering cloud.

And that image has stayed with me ever since. Because a cloud never really belongs anywhere.

It keeps moving. It keeps changing. It never stays long enough to become someone’s home.

And suddenly, the song wasn’t talking about a cloud anymore.

It was talking about people.

People who carry the fear that they are too broken, too uncertain or too temporary to become important in someone else’s life.

How can someone become another person’s comfort when they’re still looking for their own?

The more I listened, the more I realized that his biggest fear wasn’t losing her.

It was disappointing her.

Because being loved is wonderful until someone actually sees all the parts of you that aren’t easy to love. And yet.……..she stays.

Not only does she stay, she refuses to see his uncertainty as a reason to leave.

That’s the part of the song that fascinates me the most.

She never tries to convince him that he isn’t a cloud. She never asks him to become something else. She simply loves him as he is.

And then comes my favourite imagery in the entire song.

The cloud and the water.

Now maybe it’s just me, but once you understand that metaphor, the song becomes ten times more beautiful.

Clouds and water are never truly separate.

One rises.

One wanders.

One returns.

The other waits.

Yet they remain connected through every stage of their existence.

And somehow, that’s how she sees their relationship.

Not fragile.

Not temporary.

But inevitable.

The man keeps warning her.

He may leave. He may never become the person she deserves. He may not know how long his journey will take.

And every time he speaks from fear, she answers from love.

That contrast is what makes this song unforgettable.

One voice keeps searching for reasons to be left. The other keeps finding reasons to stay.

The fear wasn’t that she would leave. The fear was that she would stay.

Now, some people might hear this song and wonder why she stays at all. Well even I end up asking the same question: Why does she stay? And every time, I end up with a different answer.

Some days I think she’s foolish. Some days I think she’s brave. And on some days, I think she’s simply in love.

I wonder:

Why choose someone who cannot promise certainty?

Why love someone who is unsure of himself?

And honestly, that’s a fair question.

But I don’t think this song is trying to answer who was right. I think it’s trying to show us what love looks like when it exists beyond conditions.

The man keeps counting everything that is wrong with him. The woman keeps looking beyond the list.

Not because she’s blind. But because love isn’t blind.

In fact, I think real love sees more clearly than anything else.

It sees the fears.

It sees the flaws.

It sees the uncertainty.

And then it makes a choice.

Not to ignore them.

But to stay despite them.

Maybe that’s why this song has stayed with me for so long.

Not because it’s romantic. Not because it’s old. Not because the lyrics are beautiful.

It stayed because every time I listen to it, it reminds me that love and fear often exist in the same place.

One person is terrified of being loved. The other is brave enough to love anyway.

And perhaps that’s what makes this song timeless.

Not the music. Not the poetry.

But the fact that decades later, we are still living the same questions.

We are still wondering whether we’re enough. We are still afraid of disappointing the people who choose us. We are still searching for someone who sees all our uncertainties and stays.

Maybe that’s what love has always been.

Not finding someone perfect. Not finding someone certain.

But finding someone who knows you’re a wandering cloud and still calls you home.

Maybe the man never understood what the woman was trying to tell him.

Love was never asking him to become less of a cloud.

It was simply asking him to believe that even clouds belong somewhere.

And perhaps that’s why this song stayed.

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That’s the strange thing about growth. It asks us to keep moving forward while leaving pieces of ourselves behind.

The 10-year-old me had different dreams, likes, dislikes, fears and aspirations. The 20-year-old me has different dreams, likes, dislikes, fears and ways of thinking. And ofc the 30-year-old me will have different dreams, likes, dislikes, purposes, and priorities too. I’m neither the same person I was at 10, nor will I be the same person I am now when I’m 30.

With time, I evolve and that’s essential for growth. When I hold on to older versions of myself too tightly, I leave little room for the new version of me to emerge.

Growth is strange, no!!!! It gives us new things to hold but only after asking us to loosen our grip on the old ones.

There was a time when I valued people’s opinions more than my own. I believed I had to pass every exam and be kind to everyone no matter what. But growing up means realizing that some of these beliefs aren’t entirely true. Sometimes, I hold on to ideas that are no longer relevant to who I am becoming. Letting go of such beliefs is necessary so they don’t limit me.

As a child, I wanted to become a doctor or join the Air Force. But when it was actually time to choose a career path, I chose something completely different. And who knows? Maybe in the future I’ll pursue something else that I genuinely enjoy. I didn’t cling to those childhood dreams because I knew they no longer meant as much to me as they once did.

To become a better individual and continue growing, sometimes I have to let go of identities that hold me back. I know my shy nature won’t help me get where I want to be, so I need to work on it. I shouldn’t keep telling myself that I’m average because I can learn, improve and evolve. Growth often begins when I allow myself to see who I am from a new perspective.

Nobody talks enough about how growth can feel like grief. Not because something died but because something changed.

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And sometimes, this version of me has to leave behind people I once thought would stay forever. People I imagined growing old with, people whose absence once seemed impossible. But as I grow, my paths, priorities and values change. Sometimes I outgrow people and sometimes they outgrow me. It doesn’t mean the connection wasn’t real, it simply means that some people are meant to be a chapter in my story, not the entire book.

The habits that once protected me eventually became the walls that kept me trapped.

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Even the coping mechanisms I’ve relied on for years sometimes need to change. I used to isolate myself and never share my feelings with anyone. But eventually, I realized that isolation doesn’t always help. I used to say, “I can handle it,” but sometimes I can’t and all I need is someone reassuring me that everything will be okay. After all if I keep pushing people away, how will I ever build meaningful connections? I can’t isolate myself forever and it’s not always the best solution.

You know what? Growth doesn’t mean that our older versions were wrong. They weren’t. Those versions brought us to where we are today so how could they ever be wrong?

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But just like everything in life has its own season, every version of us has an expiry date too. Not because it’s bad or broken but because it has already served its purpose. The beliefs, dreams, habits, people and identities that once helped us grow may not be the same things that help us move forward. Holding on to them forever would only stop us from becoming who we’re meant to be.

We should always respect the older versions of ourselves. We should thank them for carrying us through the chapters they were meant for and then say goodbye with love and gratitude. Only then can we make space for the people we are becoming.

And if there’s one thing we should always remember, it’s this:

Not everything is meant to stay forever. Some dreams, beliefs, habits, and even people are only meant for a chapter. What really takes courage is continuing to turn the page to reach the ending we need.

Thankyou for reading🌻

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This is about her, the one who made me believe in what best friends are.

She’d been my bestfriend since 8th grade. It’s not like I didn’t have best friends before her. I did. But nobody ever made me feel the way she did. She became home in a way no one else ever had.

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She’d been my “Aditi”.

Maybe that’s why Kabhi Kabhi Aditi from Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na hurts differently now. Some songs stop being songs and start feeling like memories.

“Soch zara jaaneja tujhko hum kitna chahte hai…

Rote hai hum bhi agar teri aankhon mein aansu aate hai…”

Those lyrics felt too personal to me because that’s exactly how I cared for her. Her sadness felt like my sadness. Her problems somehow became mine too.

Never, even in my worst dreams, did I think I was eventually going to lose her. I genuinely thought we were going to be best friends for life.

Maybe you’ll think I’m behaving like someone talking about an ex after a breakup but tbh this has felt exactly like heartbreak to me. We really don’t talk enough about friendship breakups and how deeply they can affect someone. I don’t know much about romantic heartbreak.

I just know what it feels like to lose someone you loved platonically with your whole heart.

And the worst part?

You were my best friend. You weren’t supposed to break my heart into pieces, bro.

For the longest time, all I wanted was to convince her to come back or at least hold onto the hope that one day we’d somehow become best friends again. But holding onto hope while constantly getting reality checks instead……hurts in ways I can’t explain.

At the end, she confessed that I was never the kind of friend she wanted me to be. She told me I never apologized first and that I had been a fake friend from the beginning. And honestly, I think I deserved to know all this earlier, when I still had the chance to make things better, if she had wanted me to. But she never told me.

And I kept believing my best friend felt just as lucky to have me as I felt to have her.

When I thought she was leaving because of one incident, one phone call where I wasn’t emotionally ready to talk, she told me it wasn’t just about that one moment.

It was about always.

Me not being there enough. Not understanding enough. Not showing up enough.

And maybe she was right in her own way. Maybe I really failed her sometimes.

But I wish she had given me a chance to explain myself too, my situation, my trauma, my silence, my exhaustion. Instead, she had already made up her mind with her own truths and conclusions. So I did what she wanted.

I let her go.

Not from my memories. Not from my feelings. Not from my heart.

Just from the burden of choosing someone she no longer wanted in her life.

And that’s the thing about friendship breakups nobody talks about, there’s no proper closure. You just carry the person everywhere quietly.

You find them in random songs, places, habits, words. Their name stops being just a name. It becomes something your heart memorizes forever.

And maybe that’s why another lyric hurts now too,

“Tu khush hai toh lage ke jahaan mein chhaayi hai khushi…”

Because even after everything, some part of me still wants her to be okay. And maybe that’s what makes all of this even more confusing.

Because few months ago, when I was genuinely not okay, I texted her again. And despite everything, she still replied softly. She still responded with kindness.

That small conversation healed and hurt me at the same time.

It reminded me that maybe we were never bad people to each other. Just two people who couldn’t be friends with each other in the same way anymore.

It’s been 1.5 years since things fell apart. And still, some days it feels like it all happened yesterday.

But despite everything, I can never hate her. Because all my life, when I truly began understanding what problems felt like, she was there. She helped me survive things I thought would destroy me. So of course, letting her go will never mean forgetting what she meant to me.

I regret hurting her, but I’m grateful that at least I met her.

I regret not being enough, but I’m grateful that I got to know her.

And maybe that’s what healing looks like sometimes. Not forgetting someone. Not hating them. Not even fully moving on. But learning to carry both the love and the loss together.

Maybe some people are never meant to stay forever.

Maybe they’re just meant to become a part of you.

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Aise Kyun Maa by Sunidhi Chauhan 💌

I loved her,

I love her,

and I always will.

I still get excited watching her get ready,

like I’m a child again.

I still wrap her sarees around me,

because they smell like her.

I still love the food she makes,

because no comfort tastes the same.

I still call her before buying a dress,

because her opinion feels safest.

I still click pictures with her,

because some moments deserve forever.

I still help her with chores,

just to stay beside her a little longer.

I still hold her hand when life feels heavy,

because hers still feels like strength.

I still complain to her about people who hurt me,

because she listens without judging.

I still tell her about my day,

telling her still feels like joy.

I still dedicate love songs to her,

because every soft lyric sounds like her love.

I still feel proud when people know me by her name,

because that is the prettiest part of me.

I still feel incomplete without talking to her,

because some silences feel too loud.

I still go to her in every difficult moment,

because she has always been my answer.

I still talk to her about the silliest things,

because she makes everything feel important.

I still argue with her about veggies,

because some habits never leave.

I still gossip with her,

because she is still my safest place.

I still need her when I’m sick,

because her love still heals me first.

I still smile more when she’s around,

because her presence feels lighter than peace.

I still get angry when she’s hurt,

because her pain reaches me too.

I still cry when I see her in pain,

because it breaks something inside me.

I still like it when she scolds me,

because even her anger sounds like love.

And I still love her,

with the same heart I always did.

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I haven’t posted an article since my first post, so posting this now, with Mother’s Day approaching feels like the best option. Also I’m posting it a little early since maybe I won’t be here on Mother’s Day.

Well I’m sure these might not be perfect or it is almost raw but this is exactly how I feel in her presence - raw and real. My love for my Mumma is immeasurable because so is hers.

Her love isn’t selfish, her love is sacrificing, compassionate and secure.

Nothing I do will ever be enough in comparison to hers. In fact, even comparing her love to anything feels disrespectful. So yess we can never measure a mother’s love.

This is for her, for me, for the people who love their moms more than their existence…………….

Being an introvert myself, I've observed this personality very closely. Sometimes people find us weird, sometimes we seem rude, at times we have an attitude — and the list goes on.

No one is born an introvert; situations make them one. Situations where you aren't appreciated enough. Situations where people don't choose you. Situations where people make you feel embarrassed.

I think too much, I see too much, I feel too much.

But I speak so little.

We crave care, concern, and a little appreciation. We don't want people to give us attention; we want them to be genuine and real with us. It hurts not to be like others. It hurts not being able to express ourselves even though we really want to. It hurts to be someone's last choice. But we live with these wounds our whole life. In the end, this is what builds our introvert personality.

Luckily, now I understand that not everyone is the same. It's up to us who we give access to in our lives. I am on a journey where I've started trusting and believing in myself and my choices. The destination is still far, but I have kept my mind and views intact.

I will not call myself an introvert since I am on the way to healing. But I can be what I call an “ambi-introvert.” (I invented this word because I don’t think anyone becomes an ambivert overnight — so until then, this word suits us.) I can continue choosing peace while still learning to express what I feel.

This is all I feel for now. You may not agree with my point of view, and it's okay to feel so. I am open to any improvements since this is my first time writing.

I’m grateful to have found a platform where I can simply pour out my thoughts — and where people aren't judgmental but concerned.

Thank you for keeping up with me.