Balaka Basu's Blog

I completed 48 years on this earth. This year, I thought I would share all the lessons that life (and social media) taught me in the last 4+ decades. What better way to celebrate my birthday than spreading gyan? So here goes the learning:

Getting old is a blessing. Most people are afraid of getting old, but I love it. The wisdom and clarity that come with age are precious. I feel so sorted as I age. Zero pretense and zero tolerance for BS.Snake and Ladder: Life is like a game of snakes and ladders. Today, you may be at the top of the world, and tomorrow, you may be in a ditch. Therefore, do not take anything for granted, appreciate all the good things in life, always count your blessings, and stay grounded.Gratitude: I maintain a gratitude journal. Gratitude is the key to ultimate peace and happiness. This practice changed my life and made me a happier person. In many of my previous posts, I have emphasized gratitude.Mudita: I’ve always been able to connect deeply with others’ pain, maybe because I’m an empath. But I used to struggle with fully sharing in someone else’s joy; envy and insecurity would sometimes creep in. Lately, I’ve been consciously practicing Mudita . It is finding joy in others’ happiness. Practicing this has helped me let go off negativity. I have experienced more joyful days myself.Help Selflessly: Some people help expecting favors, credit, or lifelong loyalty in return. My philosophy is simple: help selflessly, with no expectations. Don’t worry, good karma gets credited.Ubuntu: The idea of uplifting others has given my life purpose. Ten years ago, I started a patient support group, and today, it’s one of my greatest sources of strength. Helping others without expecting anything in return brings me a truly unmatched joy.Sharanam: A Buddhist concept meaning surrender or taking refuge. In life, we often believe we’re in control, but in reality, most things lie beyond our grasp. Therefore, rather than resisting, we should surrender and allow life to unfold as it will.Sabr: Islamic, Sikh, and Sai Baba devotees use the word Sabr/Sabar/Saburi . It means patience in the process of God. I used to want immediate results, but now I trust the process and wait.Mindfulness: Thích Nhất Hạnh, spoke about “mindfulness” as the central practice for living in the present moment. Most of us are either regretting the past or planning the future. Very few live in the moment. These days, I consciously try to live in the present. My meditation practice is helping me in doing that.Find Happiness: Happiness doesn’t come on a platter. You have to work hard in some cases to find happiness. Life will dishearten you more, so it is your job to find happiness even in the sad moments. When you feel sad, just try to do something that makes you happy, it could be watching Netflix, reading a book, going for a walk, calling a friend etcDo more of the things that make you happy: Find and do things that make you happy. For me, it is reading, yoga, meditation, swimming, Netflix, a coffee date with friends, and spending time with my son.Yoga: I started learning yoga during lockdown when I was 42 years old. Fell in love with it. I am not really a poster girl of yoga like Malaika Arora but I enjoy yoga as much as she does (only never manage a figure like her.)Meditation: Once I started yoga, meditation was an organic addition. I also did a retreat in Dharamshala. This has given me calmness and clarity in life. I look forward to meditating.No age to learn new things: I started learning yoga, meditation, swimming, crochet, and AI after turning 40. These new things give me immense joy and happiness. I wish to continue doing them.Swimming: As a child, I never got the opportunity to learn how to swim. As an adult, I never learned to swim as I was hesitant about wearing a swimming costume. But then I gave up my inhibition and took up swimming, and now I love it.Travel: I love to travel and I believe traveling taught me a lot about life. When you are young, it is easier to explore. So start traveling early. I spend a lot of my time and money into travelling but I should call it an investment rather than expense.Practice Minimalism: I am a firm believer in keeping only those things and people in my life that “spark joy”. A clutter-free space and mind bring mental peace. I extend the philosophy of minimalism to every aspect of my life.Buy Experiences: Instead of binge shopping, I spend on travel, movies, good food, activities, and theaters. I don’t waste money on designer stuff. I buy new things only after discarding the older items. Hoard Books: Even though, I believe in minimalism, when it comes to books, I am still a maximalist. And I am unapologetic about the same.Routine: Having a routine helps me stay productive. I write a to-do list every day and that keeps me productive or else, my day feels chaotic and unproductive. I get done a lot with a to-do list.Have Friends: Having friends has been a blessing for me. Staying connected to my old friends keeps me grounded, as they know me like nobody else. They are part of my identity. There was a time when I avoided making new friends. However, now I meet new people. Not everyone is like-minded; nevertheless, I try to observe them. In many cases, I am learning new things from these people.Friendship Boundaries: Not everyone is meant to be a close friend. I think of friendship as something like the solar system. There are just a few in the inner circle. As the circles widen, the numbers grow, but most are mere acquaintances. True friends have your back, regardless of age, status, or background. I steer clear of those who drain my energy, show up only when they need something, gossip, criticize, or bring negativity. Keep your circle clean.Connect with loved ones: Always keep connections with the people who love you and with people whom you love. Call and keep in touch with good people.Parents or elders are not Gods: In India, we have a tradition to worship our elders, especially parents as deities. Criticizing your parents or elders is considered taboo and a sin. However, parents and elders can be toxic. They can be selfish and may even ruin your life. So don’t obey or worship them blindly.Trust your gut instincts: If something or someone feels not right, avoid. Often, your body is more intuitive than your mind. So if someone’s presence makes you physically uncomfortable, trust your body and run.Stay calm in stressful situations or in front of people who induce stressNever scream, shout, or abuse during any argument. The calmer you can stay during an argument, the better. Ask questions during any argument, and that makes the other person nervous. This is difficult but extremely effective. Be a Tommy Shelby. Listen more and speak less. Wise people listen more and fools speak more.Observe: Wisdom comes when you observe. The more you observe, the more you will see patterns, and this will improve your intuition. I can write an entire blog on the power of listening and observing.Ask questions: As a shy child, I always hesitated to ask questions. In my school, college, workplace, any seminar, everywhere I was afraid to ask questions. I was always impressed of people who asked questions. But now, I never hesitate and always ask question, even if it seems dumb.Don’t chase: Don’t waste your life chasing romance or money. Rather, chase a purpose and a mission.List of dreams: Always have a list of dreams that you wish to achieve, and work on them. Having a written list helps you stay focused. Marry the right person: Marriage is an important milestone. A good marriage will build you, while a bad marriage will ruin you. Therefore, think it through before getting married.Money can buy happiness: Many people believe that money can’t buy happiness. Yes, it cannot directly buy you happiness but it can buy you the tools to happiness. It can buy you comfort. It can buy you books, movie tickets, air tickets for travel, OTT subscriptions, Uber fare, etc etc. So try to earn well.Separate account: Have a separate bank account after marriage. I have seen many women, including those who earn in six/seven figures, not having their own money because they kept every penny in joint account with husband. I have a friend who literally had zero money after divorce because she ran a business with her husband and she trusted him blindly and everything was in his name.Financial Independence: The moment you financially depend on someone, they get the power to control you. Unless you have extremely indulgent parents or a spouse, try to start earning as soon as you can. I started earning the moment I turned 18 years old and never took any kind of pocket money from my Dad.Save: Start saving also early and don’t spend all your money. It is always wise to save before spending. A penny saved is a penny earned. Invest: Earlier, I used to only save money but never invest. However, now I am learning how to invest and grow my money. Most women are good at saving money but bad at investing. I think most schools should teach investment as a compulsory subject.Know your worth: Don’t seek validation from others. People are often stingy with appreciation, especially if you are surrounded by narcissists. So know your own worth.Don’t change yourself for anyone, be it the society, relatives, spouse, partner, friend anyone. I made the mistake of changing myself to please others, but in doing so I made myself so unhappy. So now my philosophy is take it or leave it, I am what I am.You cannot make everyone happy, so focus on making yourself happy.Avoid Takers: For years, I had tolerated people who were only takers and never gave anything. They called me only when they needed something. Not necessarily anything material, but sometimes emotional.Everyone is struggling: Social media often makes us feel that everyone is happy. However, the truth is that everyone is struggling in their own way. Someone is struggling financially, someone health-wise, while someone emotionally.Inner Beauty: I have struggled with my looks all my life. I grew up believing that happiness is only for pretty girls. I internalized this so much that I developed extremely low self-esteem that impacted my career and relationships. However, now I know external beauty is useless. Confidence in yourself brings out the inner beauty. So don’t waste time trying to fix your looks, just be your authentic self and see how everything unfolds.Don’t try to change someone: We often try to change another person. We believe that we can change another person with our love. However, you cannot change anyone. So accept a person exactly the way they are. Don’t try to fix others, judge others, or change them. Accept Solitude: You were born alone and you will die alone. So, don’t cling to anybody and accept being alone. You are lucky if you find people when you need them. Self-reliant: Don’t expect anyone to come and rescue you. Be self-reliant and rescue yourself. Try to not depend on others as much as possible. I try to do as much as possible on my own. Spread love: If you are seeking love, start spreading love.

I have had challenges in life, but I overcame those and survived 48 years. I tried to learn a lesson from each of my challenges. Whatever little I have learned in life, I have shared with you all. Let me know what you feel are your learning?

Dear Ma,

I wish we had gotten the time to have this conversation face-to-face, but you were in a hurry to leave us ASAP. Now, when I think in retrospect, it feels like you were waiting to go. Perhaps you were too tired, exhausted, and emotionally drained to carry the load of life any longer. I understand, Ma—your life was not easy.

You were born right before the Partition and had to watch your family leave their ancestral home in Mymensingh and settle in a tiny house with walls whose plaster had fallen off, exposing the bricks underneath. In that tiny home, so many of you lived. Your mother couldn’t take the trauma of Partition, the pain of leaving her home, and the pressure of giving birth to nine children—so she died of anemia. Can you imagine? Back in those days, women died from anemia—a disease so easily treatable now.

Losing your mom at such an early age was not easy. You hardly had any memory of her. You didn’t remember her face. I never heard you speak of her or recall any memories. She had simply faded from your life. Not having a mom meant you grew up without a proper role model of what a mother should be. This probably impacted your parenting later in life. You grew up just biologically—as a thumb rule of nature—without any real nurturing. You kept craving love, especially a mother’s love, but never received it.

The truth is, no matter how hard you try, nobody can replace your Ma. In fact, I also tried searching for a mother’s love after you were gone. However, I was a bit lucky. After a while, I wasn’t looking for a mother to replace you and pamper me—I was looking for another human being with whom I could truly connect. That’s where I struck gold.

I met so many wonderful women in my life: my friends’ moms, elderly colleagues, neighbor aunties, your sisters, and even random women—from all of them, I found glimpses of motherly love. None of them could replace you as my mother, but they showed me so many different aspects of motherhood. When I became a mother myself, I had a huge canvas and a colorful palette to paint my own image of what a mother could be.

A mother is not a fixed role. There is no perfect mother. In each imperfection, a new aspect of motherhood unfolds—and that is the beauty of this journey. While some moms love to scold their kids at the drop of a hat, another mom might want to party with her child. And we are nobody to judge either of them.

Motherhood became overwhelming for you because you were like an architect who had to build a house without a blueprint. You didn’t know what to do or how to do it. The mistake you made was that, instead of approaching motherhood authentically and instinctively, you started looking for a roadmap in all the wrong places. You were a nervous mother who wanted to raise her child exactly the way “society” would approve. This constant need for validation must have been exhausting.

However, you were not alone. Your entire generation was like this. At least you had the excuse of not having a mother to look up to. But even those who did were no different. It takes immense courage to support your child against society. It’s a difficult journey—but one worth taking. If you constantly waste your energy seeking approval from “chaar log,” you end up digging your own grave.

Trying to be “nice” and “good” is exhausting. And nobody will ever completely approve of what you do. No matter what, people will always judge you—even if you are Mother Teresa or Florence Nightingale. I wish you hadn’t been so good to everyone all the time. I wish you had rebelled once in a while. It’s fun being a rebel. It’s liberating.

Real happiness comes when you do the things that make you happy. Charity, philanthropy, living for others—yes, these are good. That’s what every religion teaches. But religion also says, “Charity begins at home.” It’s important to think about your own happiness too.

You lived a selfless life, always trying to please others. You got hurt when your efforts weren’t appreciated or acknowledged. But let me tell you: had you just not given a F**K, it would have brought you so much more peace. It is impossible to please everyone. You craved to be a “good girl” all your life—but that is what killed you.

It is liberating to be a “bad girl.” Who cares what your fifth cousin thinks? Who cares what your neighbor feels about you? Just ignore them and focus on your own life.

If there is an afterlife and I get to meet you, the only thing I would like to tell you is:

“Ma, I wish you had lived for yourself. I wish you had enjoyed your life. I wish you had tried to fulfill your dreams instead of worrying about log kya kahenge?”

Joining Vinitha‘s two hundred and fifty sixth edition of Fiction Monday with the word prompt HURRY.

After a hazy May, I’m trying to settle back into my routine this June. A lot has already happened in the first eleven days. However, my brain feels a bit scattered these days, and when I tried to recall what’s happened so far, I literally had to scroll through my phone’s gallery to jog my memory.

The most important event is that my son’s school has started again, giving me some free time to focus on my own things. Since we hadn’t taken a vacation during the summer break due to Operation Sindoor and its fallout, we planned a short trip to Pune to make up for it. The short break was quite refreshing. We caught up with some old friends and my husband’s cousins. It was especially heartwarming to meet my son’s childhood friend, with whom he had gone to school from playschool to standard eight. The kid had moved to Pune but stayed in touch. The boys went bowling, had burgers and chatted as if they had never parted. At one point, their sudden burst of laughter was loud enough to startle an elderly couple sitting nearby! watching the two childhood buddies meet after two years made me more nostalgic than the boys!

Pune is famous for its food, and for us too, this short trip turned into a gastronomic revelry. It was also relaxing, not having to wake up and think, “What to cook today?” is a luxury. A day without such decisions is always a good day. The rain-lashed long drive, with intermittent stops for coffee or smoked corn, added some zing to the trip. Honestly, this was our first proper family trip in almost three years. These days, it’s usually just Mommy and son. The dad perhaps feels a bit excluded. Though, after the trip, my son whispered that it’s more fun with Mommy—Daddy is way stricter, sets more rules, and doesn’t let him get his way so easily. Kids these days, I swear!!

Another highlight was meeting my school friend after 30 long years in Bandra. Though we both live in Mumbai, we somehow never found the time to meet in the past twenty-odd years. Finally, an impromptu meetup brought back warm memories of our childhood school days. But I also realized how much I’ve started forgetting—I couldn’t recall many names and incidents from the past.

This June, I also attended a meeting of my Buddhist chanting group. It felt good to connect and interact with everyone again. I also met my crochet group. This hobby is really lifting my spirits, though it’s also giving me a backache and aching fingers! Whenever I sit with my crochet kit, my son jokes that I’ve officially entered the “old wives” bracket.

I’ve also been catching up on Netflix this month. Whenever my mother-in-law is around, it becomes hard to watch anything, as she prefers religious Bengali shows. I usually avoid the TV in the hall and watch whatever I can on my phone—but I don’t enjoy watching on mobile for long, so I often skip it altogether. After she left, I felt a strange sense of digital freedom and could finally watch whatever I wanted on TV. I saw quite a few movies and series, including Stolen, Bodkin, The Four Seasons, and Madgaon Express (don’t watch—it’s quite bad).

I’m also reading two Bengali storybooks and one discourse by Krishnamurti.

That’s the June update so far. Tell me—how is June treating you?

Joining Vinitha‘s two hundred and fifty fifth edition of Fiction Monday with the word prompt Startle.

I’m often more affected by my thoughts than by what’s actually happening in the present. I’ve tried many meditation methods to quiet this mental chatter. But this monkey brain keeps jumping from one thought to another. It’s more like multi-thinking than multitasking. My mind constantly thinks about every possible negative thing that could happen to me or my loved ones. I’m either dwelling on the past or worrying about the future, rarely am I focused on the present. I’m well aware of the concept of mindfulness and living in the moment. I even talk to others about it, but I find it hard to practice myself.

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Recently, I’ve discovered a benefit to this overthinking. There’s a lot of unprocessed trauma and sadness that I’ve never truly addressed. Now, reflecting on the past, when I revisit those memories, I don’t approach them with self-pity. Instead, I try to understand how those experiences have shaped me, for better or worse. This approach is proving to be helpful. I’ve started letting go of emotional baggage in this way. I’m learning to forgive. Forgetting is difficult, but processing those memories with objectivity helps.

I used to hold grudges against people who wronged me. But now, I try to understand why they behaved the way they did. Often, I find that they were insecure and unaware. Many lacked good role models or proper education. Their actions stemmed from jealousy, competitiveness, or a desire to feel superior. Humans are complex. Often, they hurt others unintentionally, caught up in their own struggles, unaware of the impact of their actions.

As a child, I was constantly judged, which deeply impacted my self-esteem. I’ve made numerous life decisions based on the fear of being judged. I regret those choices. I wish I had focused on what would have made me happy, instead of worrying about others’ opinions. Even my idea of happiness was once twisted. That fear of judgment was like fuel for my anxiety, constantly feeding it and keeping it alive far longer than it should have lasted.

Trust me, I’m finally finding peace. There were so many things I was holding on to, but now I’m gradually letting them go. It’s a beautiful and peaceful feeling. One by one, I’m releasing these burdens, and a part of my heart is healing. What was once inner turmoil is slowly being replaced by silence and peace.

This process has also helped me deal with the present more objectively and less emotionally. Earlier, I reacted emotionally to everything. Now, I try to see things as they are. I remind myself that someone else’s bad behavior is a reflection of them, not me. I think I will arrive in my fifties filled with gratitude, peace, forgiveness, and love.

The future still worries me. I’ve lived in chaos for so long that my brain seems wired for it. Peace feels unfamiliar, so my mind keeps creating imaginary catastrophes to worry about. Worrying feels like my brain’s default state; it struggles to exist in peace. Sometimes, these thoughts keep me awake at night. Imagining worst-case scenarios makes my chest tighten. Maybe, with time, I’ll learn to heal this, too.

Joining Vinitha‘s two hundred and fifty first edition of Fiction Monday with the word prompt Fuel

A couple of years back, I had attended another meditation session in Dharamkot with the theme Mudita. It was one of the profound sessions that I have ever attended in my life. Mudita and Ubuntu, both of these concepts are very close to my heart. In both of these concepts, you put others before you. Mudita is feeling genuinely happy for others and ubuntu is a concept where instead of competing with others, you cooperate and lift up others. I personally, feel the path to true happiness is when you develop compassion and empathy for others. Most religious texts also emphasise this. So Christians says “love thy neighbor as thyself”, Hinduism says “Atithi devo bhabo”, and Buddhism of course, emphasises on Mudita.

I believe self-love is extremely important. It is impossible to love others if you do not love yourself. It is almost like the instructions we get on flights that say, “first put your own oxygen mask and then help others”. I am a huge advocate of self-love.

But here comes the pain point. In today’s age of Instagram, influencers are often promoting self-love in a way that is toxic. Not everyone has the intelligence or awareness to understand how healing truly works. They may just use the shortcut way to healing by using Instagram reels and that could actually be counter-productive. Healing takes years, and it is a slow process. A huge amount of inner work is required. Those of us who are on a healing journey know how difficult it is. But new-age healing promotes quick fixes and that can cause more harm than good.

Firstly, everyone has different types and perhaps grades of trauma. I am not sure if this will be correct to grade trauma but common sense tells me that your mother calling you fat is a different trauma than your mom selling you to a brothel. And let me tell you, not everyone has the privilege to go for healing. I am not diminishing anyone’s pain but I am kind of bored of the misuse of the words like trauma, healing, therapy etc. It has become fashionable to call yourself a victim even though you belong to one of the most privileged group of people.

My mother’s family came to India during partition as refugee. The horror they went through is unimaginable, while I never heard any of my uncles or aunts give up on life for that. My mamas and masis are one of the coolest and funniest people I have ever known. While I see some friends of my child who have grown up in posh houses, goes to the finest schools, moves around in chauffeur-driven swanky cars and behaving as if their trauma is unimaginable. Well, even when the wifi signal goes off, it is a trigger for them. And I am not kidding. They are regularly taking pills and going for therapy. I wonder if it’s trauma or boredom.

I am a patient advocate and I know how important therapy is for those who genuinely need them. But just going to therapy because your parents can afford 5k/per hour every couple of days is something I find sad. There are orphans abused and battered. In India there are hungry kids who doesn’t get two meals a day and medicine when they need it. They have real trauma but therapy isn’t affordable for them and I see rich wives and teens going to therapy as often as they go for movies.

I believe in cutting off toxic people from life. I have done that. However, these days, people in the name of self-love is cutting off anybody who disagrees with them. Like if you want a 10k dollar bag and your parents disagree to buy. The parent is toxic and they wish to cut them off. Somewhere, we also need to compromise. I recently met a woman, who is not willing to meet her dying mother because many years ago the mother did not agree to her marriage. I agree, that some pain are difficult. However, sometimes self-love also means forgiving others. No amount of healing crystals, and tarot reading, and expensive sessions with healers are going to work if you do not nurture empathy, compassion, and forgiveness.

Many will probably not agree with what I wrote. Everyone has their own take on life and belief system. I shouldn’t judge. I wrote what I feel. I believe, healing is a holistic process that is based on unconditional love for yourself and others. I practice it and encourage others to practice too.

Joining Vinitha‘s two hundred and forty-ninth edition of Fiction Monday with the word prompt Signal.

Blogging often feels challenging, and the biggest hurdle is maintaining a routine and posting regularly. Some weeks are tougher than others. Sometimes, an entire week passes by, and I cannot recall anything I did during that time. I often go back and check my phone’s gallery to jog my memory. I don’t know if this is due to my perimenopausal brain fog or something more serious.

I wish to live life to the brim, filling my days with rich experiences, growth, and personal connections. However, this often becomes my Achilles’ heel, and I end up feeling exhausted. Last week was one of those weeks where I kept myself super busy. I went to the movies, had a coffee date with a friend, met family, attended a Zadenkai, and went to my crochet club. Now, as I try to recall it all, I’m left feeling drained. I want to slow down, but life is becoming hectic with long-term guests at home, too many social obligations, and watching pointless reels. There is nothing more that I wish to write today.

I hope things are all fine on your end. Unlike me, I hope your weeks are not blurred? Let me know about your life. Till then, take care.

Joining Vinitha‘s two hundred and forty-eighth edition of Fiction Monday with the word prompt Brim.

Dear Trina,

You are young, full of dreams and ambitions. You are such an underappreciated girl. You have already battled so many storms in this young life, but nobody gives you enough credit. That is probably why you crave appreciation and validation so much. This often leads you to seek validation from those who will never truly value you. Don’t worry—one day, you will stop craving validation and realize your own worth. You will learn to appreciate yourself without needing anyone’s approval. And dear, that is when you will create your soul family—a tribe who will value your worth, appreciate you, and support you. You’ve already found some of them, and even after twenty years, your friendships will remain strong and beautiful.

You are making one of the biggest mistakes of your life at the moment. I wish I could have saved you. But sometimes, we make mistakes to learn lessons. My dear, this mistake will teach you so much that you will transform entirely for the better. The fire you’ll go through will purify your soul and make you a far better person than you are now. You will become grounded, calmer, a seeker of peace, authentic, and, most importantly, courageous. Right now, you are outwardly brave and spirited, but internally, you’re frightened like a little puppy on a rainy day, shivering and whimpering. One day, you will overcome this fear, which stemmed from low self-esteem. You will become courageous and be your own boss.

Let me tell you one amazing thing, you love to travel, and one day, you’ll take solo trips to Europe where you’ll make amazing new friends. You’ll experience some beautiful and also some naughty things in Europe. Like getting so stoned in Amsterdam that you almost miss your flight. Unlike now, you won’t care to pretend to be the so-called submissive, docile, and domesticated “good girl.” You’ll come into your true element, you’ll get three tattoos, start wearing black nail polish, fluorescent lipstick, Korean finger rings and septum nose rings that would’ve put your mom into a coma—had she been alive. Your therapist will say that this is a trauma response. You were never a rebellious teenager, always obedient, responsible, and subservient. In your middle age, you will awaken that young girl who never had the opportunity to be herself. You won’t believe that it is a trauma response and will accept it with a full heart. Believe me, you will be happier way more than you felt as a little girl.

You’ll also become spiritual—way more than you can believe now. You’ll become spiritually inclined and turn into a practicing Buddhist. Also, wait—you’ll fall in love with yoga and swimming. I know, right now you can’t imagine yourself like this. You’re probably a reincarnated soul from the hippie era of the 1960s. Thankfully, you won’t get addicted to any substances. Oh, one bad bit of news: you will genetically inherit OCD from your beloved grandmother and start obsessing about organizing, decluttering, and cleaning. Which is probably again some kind of trauma response, but it will help you build some good habits.

Right now, you’re a people pleaser—always saying and doing things to keep everyone around you happy. You don’t want anyone to judge you, and you want to be seen as a “good girl.” This is so funny, because one day, you’ll be at the opposite end of the spectrum, doing things that will make others judge you—and you won’t care one bit. Now, you’re scared to say anything that might upset others, but one day, you’ll speak like an arrow hitting the bull’s eye. Most importantly, you’ll learn to say NO—firmly. You’ll realize that in trying to keep others happy, the only person you were making unhappy was yourself. You’ll learn to prioritize your own happiness and start doing the things that truly make you happy.

Right now, you’re constantly walking on eggshells, struggling to make everyone happy—and most importantly, not angry. You know that even a slip of the tongue can hurt fragile egos and spark full-fledged rage. But a day will come when your calmness will be so freezing that any amount of rage will dissolve in its coldness. Your silence will be so empowering that, even without speaking a word, you’ll melt mountains. You’ll learn that sometimes, the best response is no response. Those who try to trigger you and bring out the worst in you will get bored once you stop reacting. Their drama will become a flop show with no audience. That will be your victory.

No matter how scared you are today, trust me—everything will be fine. You will be proud of yourself for your strength and courage. You will become a force to reckon with.

Take care, My Love!!

Older You

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2025 was supposed to be the year of Eluxoroma , you know, that magical blend of elegance, luxury, and inner peace. Instead, four months in, I think I accidentally signed up for the year of Eluxo-Drama. Spoiler alert: I’m nowhere near my goals. If anything, I might be sprinting in the opposite direction, blindfolded and backwards.

Let’s start with January. The year kicked off with a lung infection that had me gasping like a melodramatic Ekta Kapoor actor. My daily chore list turned into an extreme sport. Making the bed or organising the cupboard (things I usually find therapeutic) felt like climbing Everest. I barely made it through the month without collapsing into a laundry basket.

February offered a brief glimpse of hope. I could breathe again! But just as I was starting to feel human, my son’s board exams began, and stress levels in the house hit the ceiling. Then March showed up like, “You thought that was bad?” Enter: herpes-zoster, aka shingles, aka pain level 9000 in the middle of the exams. It was like being attacked by angry invisible porcupines. I didn’t sleep for two weeks and became best friends with ChatGPT at 3am. (Fun fact: apparently, stress can trigger shingles. WHO KNEW?)

After surviving all that, I decided to treat us to a cute little mother-son trip to Goa. Enjoy some chill, lyad, and beachside food and pretend life wasn’t trying to roast us. I found the perfect Airbnb, all postcard-pretty and serene. We were buzzing with excitement. But the universe had one more plot twist: the moment we landed, my son got a high fever. Goa became a blink-and-miss vacation, and we were back in Mumbai before you could say “susegad.” The drama didn’t end here, at home, dearest mom-in-law was there to welcome us. After all this and with her in the house, my soul has officially shifted its allegiance from the Dalai Lama to Lucifer.

Amidst the chaos, a few good things have kept me from completely sinking. The Goa trip — fever and all — was still a breather. A change of scenery, a few moments of quiet, and at least one decent Goan meal made it worth it. I also got two new tattoos (No, not from Goa).

One big highlight? I organized a gratitude ceremony for my son’s school teacher — and it turned out to be a superhit. Everyone from the management trustees to the principal, teachers, and staff had words of praise. Apparently, this was the first time in the school’s history that parents organized an event like this. We went all out. We even invited ex-teachers, which turned the event into this beautiful mix of laughter, nostalgia, and a few moist eyes.

Honestly, that event gave me a real confidence boost. It gave me confidence in my ability to plan and organize. I can manage Excel sheets like a pro. I can also socialize without glitching. I’m incredibly grateful to all the other parents who pitched in. We nailed it. In March, I started swimming, which had to be stopped for shingles, but I hope to resume it sooner. I can now swim, but I need practice.

My regular readers know just how much I love yoga — it’s my anchor, my sanity, my therapy. But for the past four months, yoga and I have been in a long-distance relationship. Meditation? Barely happening. And let’s just say, I get distinctly unpleasant without it. Combine perimenopause, mother-in-law, and zero meditation, and voilà — I’ve officially morphed into a fire-breathing dragon. (Send help. Or chamomile tea.)

The lingering post-herpetic neuralgia has made even walking a challenge, but I’m optimistic. What makes it worse is having to give up swimming — something I truly loved. My walks have become occasional strolls. Chanting is inconsistent. The blog’s been neglected. In short, everything that grounds me has gone on vacation without me.

Right now, my life feels like a tossed salad — messy, unpredictable, and missing dressing. The biggest challenge is simply returning to my routine. But there’s hope: with my son going back to school soon, I might finally reclaim a bit of “me time.” Hopefully, dearest mommy will also leave me alone and go back.

April feels like the month for restoration — slowly, steadily, and with deep breaths (if the universe allows). Maybe I’ll ease back in with gentle yoga and short walks.

Hope to be regular with life. If you don’t hear from me, please ping me to check. Till then Ciao!!

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There are a few festivals that I love while some literally make me sick to the stomach. Like any other Bong in this world, Durga puja is my favorite festival. When I was a child, I received a new calendar. The first thing I did was look for the dates for Durga puja. I have spent most of my life away from Bengal. Yet, the Bengali in me surfaces the moment the month of Kartik begins. Kartik is the month when Durga puja is celebrated. Unlike, the rest of India, we Bongs do not spend Durga puja fasting and eating satwik food. For us Durga puja is also a food festival. The glutton in every Bong appears during Durga puja. We feast on egg rolls, mutton biryani, chicken chaap, and whatever our overworked stomach can digest. We also take a heavy dose of digene to make space for more food. If you are wondering why Bongs eat non-veg during Durga puja then please read one of my old posts.

My second favorite festival is Saraswati Pujo which is also known as the Bengali Valentine’s Day. Saraswati pujo is usually celebrated in the month of February coinciding with V-day. On this day, we are supposed to offer puja to Goddess Saraswati who is the goddess of music and learning. This is the day, when every Bengali girl from 8 months to 80 years wear a yellow saree. And naughty teenagers sneak out of their houses to meet their crushes. There is hardly any Bengali girl who has not received a proposal on this day (yours truly included).

My Little nephew praying to Goddess Saraswati

My third favorite festival is Christmas. I studied in a convent. We looked forward to the mass on the eve of X-mas, as we called it then. In Kolkata, there is a huge Anglo-Indian population. They celebrate it so beautifully that it is contagious. The entire city joins them. A common joke is that Jishu Khrishto (The Bengali name for Jesus) was probably born in Park Street. He was not born in Bethlehem. The crowd is as big as the crowd during Durga puja.

Christmas in Kolkata’s Park Street

After being a Mumbaikar for almost two decade, Ganpati has crawled up my list of favorites. My son being a Mumbai born and brought up kid, his favorite festival is Ganesh Chaturthi. Unlike me, he is more excited about Ganpati than Durga Puja.

Ganpati idol in my society

I loved to celebrate Holi and Diwali as a child. Now, I get allergic to colors during Holi. The firecrackers trigger my bronchiolitis during Diwali. Moreover, in Bengal we celebrate Kali pujo on the day of Diwali. When I was around five years old, my Uncle took me to a Tantrik Kali Puja. That event traumatized me for life. Even so many years later I feel a strange phobia on this day. Will write about it in detail some other time. In India, festivals are endless. In Bengali we say, “baro maase tero parbon” which means that there are twelve months but more festivals than months. I always feel the festival days smell different.

Life is full of festivals and I have been fortunate to celebrate many of them. Growing up in Sikkim, I enjoyed celebrating Losar. During my time in the Middle East, I fasted during Ramadaan. Eating publicly during the day was not allowed. Thanks, to one of my Israeli-Jewish friends who took me to attend my first and only Hanukkah. My mom taught in a Jain school. During Jain festivals, she always brought loads of snacks. I always looked forward to them. My Malayali neighbor sends me Onam Sadya which is another thing that I love to eat. In my society we also celebrate Lohri. I am most drawn by the sarson da saag and makki di roti. They are served along with gajar ka halwa after the lohri is burned.

Celebrating Hanukkah in Rome, Italy

I can go on writing..but let me stop. Please tell me all the festivals that you love to celebrate.

Joining Vinitha‘s two hundredth and fortieth edition of Fiction Monday with the word prompt Festival.

We all have heard stories about how our ancestors lived in villages with huge front yards and back yards. Most of them had farmlands, orchards, and gardens. Many of them also had farm animals, poultry, ducks, cows, buffaloes, and goats. Some had ponds full of fish. Those who were really rich also had horses and even elephants.

Our ancestors ate fruits and vegetables mostly grown in their backyards. They also often ate crops from their land and ate organic fish and chicken. Back in those days, most villages had a barter system. So if something was not grown in their garden, they borrowed it from neighbors.

As a child, I loved the winter months. We used to come down from our home in the hills and stay with my grandparents. My maternal grandparent’s home was small yet they had a nice front yard with quite a few tall trees. I particularly remember the Neem tree that always stood proudly. I call their home “small.” However, it was five times the size of my current flat in this posh Mumbai neighborhood.

My paternal grandmother’s home was my favorite abode. It was huge with a big garden. There were lots of flowers, fruits, and vegetables grown in our zameen. I loved waking up in the morning and going and plucking flowers from the garden with my grandma. After plucking flowers, she used to offer those flowers to the deities in her wooden temple. Before breakfast, we used to go and pluck vegetables from the garden. Leafy green vegetables were carefully cut with a small knife, while smaller bitter gourds were gently torn from the creepers. Root vegetables like potatoes and sweet potatoes had to be dug out from the earth. To harvest raw jackfruit, bananas, or mangoes, we had to climb the branches. Each vegetable had its own unique method of harvesting, making the entire process both varied and fascinating.

While cooking, both Ma and Grandma made sure nothing went to waste. Raw banana peels were ground on a sil patta, mixed with mustard paste, green chilies, and coconut, and enjoyed with hot rice. Potato peels were fried into crispy, crunchy snacks, while raw mango peels were transformed into tangy chutney. Nearly everything found a purpose, hardly anything was ever wasted.

We didn’t have a cow but our neighbors had. After breakfast, I accompanied my Aunt to the neighbor’s house and got milk from them. There was a pond full of fish. Before lunch was prepared, my uncle would wrap a gamcha around his waist. He would then head out with a net to catch fish. Taking a fish out of the water was one thing, but killing it was no easy task. I still vividly remember my mother struggling to cut a live fish using a boti, the traditional Bengali cutting tool. I loved the afternoons. We used to get seasonal fruits from our orchard. We ate them as a post-lunch dessert.

Our grandparents wanted us to do better in life. Therefore, they sent us to the best educational institutions. They wanted us to get better jobs. They hoped we would live a comfortable life. We all did good. Some of the uncles, aunts, and cousins shifted abroad. Others moved to metropolitan Indian cities like Mumbai, Delhi, and Bangalore. Now my question is are we really doing better than our grandparents?

Cut to the modern day. Most of us (barring the few living in the US) live in apartments with no front yard, backyard, or huge terraces. I feel like I am the worst since my flat doesn’t even have a balcony. My cousins who live in other cities at least have a balcony. Ironically, my house is the most expensive in terms of square feet (Not flexing, Mumbai real estate you see!). So is this progress?

I struggle to find organic produce. I quite literally pay through the nose for it. Meanwhile, my grandparents simply walked into their garden. They plucked fresh vegetables easily. I get milk from a packet. I often question its purity. They simply strolled over to their neighbor’s house. They chatted and watched fresh milk being taken straight from the cow.

I can’t help but question this so-called progress. Sometimes, it feels like we’ve fallen into a trap. We sought a “better” life. We sold our ancestral homes and land. We moved to crowded cities. Now we live in smaller homes. We eat pesticide-infested vegetables. We drink milk that is obtained after injecting the cattle. We have no clean air to breathe. We cannot sleep at night due to stress. We pay for exercises at the gym. We are always buying medicines as our health is not as good as theirs. We cannot go anywhere without getting stuck in traffic. We have no family time as we are always glued to the screen. Yet we say we did better than our grandparents. Isn’t this funny? We made our lives unnecessarily stressful, all in the name of advancement.

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Now, as I embrace slow living. I distance myself from hustle culture. I find myself longing for a simpler, more grounded life. I dream of going back. I want to grow my own garden like my grandma did. Many of my friends are also now doing the same. I think of the ancestral home we gave up. I think of the land we gave up. I feel a deep sense of loss. It was all for a so-called better future. They didn’t need gym memberships to stay active; their daily lives provided all the exercise they needed. They ate fresh, organic food without hunting for labels or paying a premium. With less stress, they slept better. They laughed more. They spent real, quality time with their loved ones, not glued to screens. They could watch their grandkids grow in front of them. They didn’t have to interact over video calls or wait for an annual visit. And yet, we convince ourselves that we are the ones who are truly thriving.

Do you disagree or do you also feel that we fell into a trap?

Joining Vinitha‘s two hundredth and thirty-ninth edition of Fiction Monday with the word prompt Trap.