Posts from the personal development category.
Some books announce themselves loudly. They clear their throat, adjust their spectacles, and declare, “I have something important to say.”The Daughters of Shantiniketan doesn’t do that.It sits beside you quietly, like someone at a café who doesn’t interrupt your thoughts — until, suddenly, you realise they know exactly what you’ve been thinking all along.I began this novel expecting a family saga ...
This past year felt like a blur. Looking back through my calendar, I can see all the events and highlights clearly marked. But most of them didn’t feel like it. The days melded into one long day that I sleep walked through. As the arrow of time turns the page on 2025, I am looking back through evidence to piece back the year that went by. And reminds me of what is not in the paper trail, but in me...
Some books arrive in your life like a loud motivational speaker with a mic that’s a notch too high. Others slip in quietly, pull out a chair, order cutting chai, and say, “Listen, try this one small thing today.” One Habit a Day belongs firmly to the second category.I remember reading it late one evening, phone on silent, the house finally exhaling after a long day. No dramatic before-and-after pr...
I finished Tumhari Aarshi late in the evening, phone face down on the bed, the room lit by a single tube light that had begun to hum faintly. I remember my shoulders were slightly raised, as if I had been bracing myself without knowing why. When I closed the book, I didn’t move at once. Not because something had struck me dramatically — but because something had quietly refused to leave.There was ...
I was lying on my side when I finished it.Not the dignified, upright posture of a “serious reader.” Just me, the phone slipping slightly in my hand, one knee drawn up, the fan making that familiar uneven sound it makes when it’s been on too long. Evening had already crossed into night. My first thought wasn’t insight. It was quieter.So this is why my days feel unfinished.I didn’t think of time. I ...
I remember noticing my hands first.They were still holding the book, long after the sentence had ended. Not gripping it. Just resting there, as if letting go would mean admitting the moment was over. The room had begun to dim in that slow, undecided way evenings do — neither day nor night, just tired of choosing. I was slouched, slightly crooked, aware that my body had been still for too long. The...
I noticed my breathing before I noticed the quiet.Not the dramatic kind of silence that announces itself, but the softer one — the kind that slips in when the mind stops reaching for the next thing. I was sitting by the window. Late afternoon light. The book closed without ceremony. And for a few seconds, I didn’t feel the need to move.That is how Fragrances Unseen stayed with me — not as a volume...
I remember finishing this book on an ordinary afternoon — and feeling unexpectedly still.Not the triumphant stillness of motivation, but the quieter kind. The kind that comes when someone has spoken honestly enough that your defences don’t know where to stand anymore. I was seated, book resting face-down, noticing my shoulders had dropped. As if something inside me had been allowed to exhale.Limit...
There was a softness in the room when I finished this book.Not silence exactly — more like the kind of quiet that follows a memory you didn’t know you were carrying. I was sitting still longer than needed, aware that something gentle had brushed past me and stayed.The Three Greens didn’t arrive loudly. It didn’t demand attention. It behaved like a childhood afternoon — unannounced, unhurried, and ...
I didn’t open this book looking for courage.I opened it expecting information.What I found instead was a quiet lineage of bravery — lives lived when there were no safety nets, no hashtags, no reassuring headlines saying things will get better. Over The Rainbow: India’s Queer Heroes doesn’t rush at you with noise. It walks beside you, calmly, carrying stories that were never meant to be erased, onl...
