Tuesday · 1 September 2026 Betanzos 19°C Few Clouds

Unfolding Fates

Navigating Love, Life, and the Unknown

Category: Wisdom

  • What Does It Mean to Love a Country?

    What Does It Mean to Love a Country?

    Today, India celebrates its 80th Independence Day.

    Flags will rise, the anthem will play, and our screens will fill with messages of patriotism.

    But somewhere between all the celebration, there is a question worth asking:

    What does it actually mean to love your country?

    Does loving India mean agreeing with its government? Does patriotism require us to believe that everything happening around us is right?

    I don’t think so.

    Perhaps loving a country is a little like loving a person.

    When you truly love someone, you don’t become blind to their flaws. You can disagree with them, be disappointed in them, and still want the best for them.

    Sometimes, you question them because you care.

    A government is not a country.
    A political party is not a country.
    A policy is not a country.

    Governments will change. Leaders will come and go.

    The country remains.

    And a country isn’t merely the land beneath our feet.

    It is the people standing on it.

    People who speak different languages, worship differently, eat differently, vote differently and see the world differently.

    India was never meant to be a place where everyone thinks alike.

    Perhaps its beauty lies in something much harder:

    remaining together despite thinking differently.

    But there is another side of patriotism we don’t talk about enough.

    Loving a Country Is Also a Habit

    Patriotism is easy to express on Independence Day.

    Civic sense is how we express it on an ordinary Tuesday.

    Not throwing garbage on the road.

    Following traffic rules even when nobody is watching.

    Not damaging public property simply because it doesn’t belong to us personally.

    Standing in a queue.

    Keeping the volume down when others need peace.

    Treating public spaces as if they belong to us—

    because they actually do.

    We often expect the government to give us cleaner streets, better cities and a better country.

    And we should.

    But perhaps we should occasionally ask ourselves:

    What kind of citizens are we giving the country in return?

    Questioning the government and questioning ourselves are not opposite ideas.

    We need both.

    If something is broken, wanting it repaired isn’t hatred.

    If something is unfair, questioning it isn’t betrayal.

    But if we demand change while refusing to change our own everyday behaviour, something is missing too.

    Maybe patriotism isn’t only about what we feel when the national anthem plays.

    It is also what we do when nobody is looking.

    And perhaps brotherhood begins with something equally simple.

    Before someone becomes Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Christian, left, right, rich or poor in our minds—

    they are another human being.

    And another Indian.

    Mazhab alag.
    Soch alag.
    Awaazein alag.
    Magar khwab ek — Hindustan.

    A Thought Unfolded
    Our ancestors gave us an independent India.
    Perhaps our responsibility is not merely to celebrate that freedom, but to become citizens worthy of it. To disagree without hatred.
    To question without abandoning.
    To demand better from our country—and from ourselves.
    To love our identity without diminishing someone else’s.
    Because a better India will not be built only in Parliament, courts or government offices.

    A little of it is built every day, by each of us.

    Not a perfect India.

    Our India. 🇮🇳

    Happy Independence Day.

  • Sometimes the Tone Isn’t in the Text

    Sometimes the Tone Isn’t in the Text

    Have you ever caught yourself overthinking text messages from someone you care about? Sometimes all it takes is a one-word reply:

    “Okay.”

    That’s it.

    And strangely, those four letters can mean completely different things depending on how you’re feeling when you read them.

    When everything feels good between you and that person, you barely notice it.

    Okay.

    You read it normally. Maybe they’re busy. Maybe there simply wasn’t anything more to say.

    But when something already feels different between you—when conversations have become shorter, replies take longer, or you’re quietly wondering where you stand—that same word suddenly changes.

    Okay.

    Why just okay?

    Are they upset?

    Did I say something wrong?

    Are they avoiding the conversation?

    Do they not want to talk to me anymore?

    Nothing about the message changed.

    But something inside you did.

    We Read More Than Words

    Text messages don’t come with facial expressions, body language, or tone of voice.

    So whenever a message is ambiguous, our mind has to fill in the missing pieces.

    And it often fills them with whatever we are already carrying.

    Security can make a short reply feel harmless.

    Anxiety can make it feel distant.

    Hurt can make it feel dismissive.

    Fear of losing someone can turn a completely ordinary message into evidence that something is wrong.

    The strange thing is that sometimes there is a change in the relationship. Sometimes our intuition is noticing a pattern before we consciously understand it.

    But sometimes there isn’t.

    Sometimes “okay” really means okay.

    The Message We Actually Read

    Perhaps this is why texting becomes so complicated in relationships that matter to us.

    We think we are reading someone’s words. Still, often we are also reading our history with them, their recent behaviour, our expectations, our insecurities, and the things we are afraid to ask directly.

    A message is written by one person.

    But its tone is sometimes created by two.

    The sender provides the words.

    The reader provides the emotional context.

    And somewhere between those two things, an entirely different conversation can happen—one that may never have existed in the sender’s mind at all.

    A Thought Unfolded
    We don’t just read texts. We read our relationships into them.
    Sometimes the coldness we hear is really there.
    Sometimes it comes from our own uncertainty.
    And perhaps the hardest part is knowing the difference.

  • A Broken Relationship Is Better Than a Forced One

    A Broken Relationship Is Better Than a Forced One

    There comes a point when holding on stops being an act of love and becomes an act of fear.

    Many people stay in relationships not because they are happy, but because they are afraid of change, loneliness, judgment, or the memories they have built together. They convince themselves that surviving is the same as living.

    It isn’t.

    A broken relationship hurts. It leaves behind unanswered questions, silent nights, and a heart that needs time to heal. But a forced relationship creates a different kind of pain—one that repeats every single day. It asks you to ignore your feelings, suppress your voice, and pretend everything is fine when it isn’t.

    Love cannot be demanded.

    Respect cannot be negotiated every day.

    Trust cannot grow where it is constantly questioned.

    No relationship is perfect, and every bond deserves effort. Misunderstandings can be resolved, and difficult phases can be overcome when both people genuinely want to grow together. But when only one person keeps trying while the other merely stays, the relationship slowly becomes an obligation rather than a choice.

    Sometimes, letting go is not giving up.

    It is accepting that love without willingness becomes a burden.

    Walking away doesn’t always mean you stopped caring. Sometimes it simply means you finally started caring about yourself too.

    A relationship should bring peace more often than pain. If it survives only because someone is forcing it to, perhaps it has already ended in every way that truly matters.

    A Thought Unfolded
    A broken relationship may leave scars, but a forced relationship slowly erases who you are. Choose honesty over pretence, and peace over persistence.

  • Why Friendships Fade: Understanding the Silent Pain of Growing Apart

    Why Friendships Fade: Understanding the Silent Pain of Growing Apart

    Not every friendship ends with an argument.

    Some friendships simply grow quieter. The conversations become less frequent, replies take longer, and without either person saying goodbye, the bond slowly begins to fade.

    At first, you tell yourself they’re just busy. Life changes, responsibilities increase, and everyone has less time than they once did. But as days turn into months, you notice something that hurts more than the silence itself.

    They still have time.

    Time for new experiences, new people, and new memories. Yet somehow, your friendship no longer seems to have a place in their life.

    The realization doesn’t arrive all at once. It grows quietly, leaving you wondering when things changed.

    Why Do Friendships Fade?

    Friendships are built on shared time, trust, and mutual effort. As people move through different stages of life, those things naturally change.

    New careers, relationships, family responsibilities, or even a different social circle can shift priorities. That’s completely normal.

    The challenge begins when the effort is no longer shared.

    If one person keeps reaching out while the other slowly disappears, the friendship can become one-sided. And no relationship can thrive when only one person is trying to keep it alive.

    How to Cope with a Fading Friendship

    The hardest part about a fading friendship is the lack of closure.

    There may be no fight, no explanation, and no final conversation. That can leave you searching for answers that don’t exist.

    Instead of blaming yourself, accept that some relationships change over time. If you’ve made an honest effort and the connection is no longer mutual, it’s okay to stop chasing it.

    Appreciate the memories for what they were, but don’t let yesterday’s friendship prevent you from building today’s relationships.

    A healthy friendship should never make you feel like you’re asking for a place in someone’s life.

    A broken friendship doesn’t always end with a fight; sometimes it simply fades into silence.

  • Sindh Stayed Behind, Sindhis Moved On

    Sindh Stayed Behind, Sindhis Moved On

    The Partition of 1947 divided more than a country. It divided homes, families, memories and identities.

    Punjab was divided. Bengal was divided.

    But Sindh had a different story.

    Sindh was not divided — the entire province became part of Pakistan. A large number of Hindu Sindhis left the land where their families had lived for generations and migrated to India.

    They came carrying whatever they could — belongings, memories, language, traditions and the hope of beginning again.

    A New Home Without Our Old Land

    Sindhis settled across India — in Rajasthan, Gujarat, Maharashtra, Madhya Pradesh, Delhi and elsewhere.

    They rebuilt their lives, businesses and communities. India became home, not just geographically but emotionally too.

    Yet there was something unusual about the Sindhi experience.

    Unlike some other displaced communities, Indian Sindhis did not have an Indian part of Sindh to return to or identify as their ancestral state.

    Sindh reh gaya, aur Sindhi chale aaye.

    The people moved. The homeland remained behind.

    Sindh Still Travels With Us

    For generations like ours, Sindh is mostly a place inherited through stories.

    Many of us have never seen it. We haven’t walked through the streets where our grandparents or great-grandparents lived.

    Yet Sindh somehow feels familiar.

    It survives in Sindhi boli, in our food, our traditions, our surnames, our celebrations and the stories passed from one generation to another.

    Perhaps that is the strange power of roots.

    You don’t necessarily have to live on the land of your ancestors for that land to remain a part of you.

    I am Indian. India is my home. And I am Sindhi.

    These identities don’t compete with each other.

    Hindustan gave our families a place to rebuild their lives, while Sindh remained a part of the history that shaped who we are.

    Borders changed geography.

    They couldn’t completely change belonging.

    A Thought Unfolded
    Maybe home and homeland don’t always have to be the same place.
    Hindustan hamara ghar hai,
    par Sindh hamari jadon mein hai.
    And perhaps that is why, even generations after Partition, a little piece of Sindh continues to live wherever a Sindhi goes.

  • Love Is Always a Work in Progress

    Love Is Always a Work in Progress

    We often imagine love as an arrival.

    You find someone.
    You understand each other.
    You choose each other.
    And somewhere inside us, we believe the difficult part is over.

    But perhaps love is not an arrival at all.

    Perhaps love is a journey between two people who are constantly becoming someone new.

    The person you fell in love with will change.

    Life will touch them in ways neither of you can predict. Some experiences will soften them, some will make them quieter, some will give them new dreams, and some will leave wounds they never had when you first met.

    And you will change too.

    That is why love cannot survive only on the promise of “I know you.”

    Sometimes love has to say:

    “You have changed. Let me know you again.”

    There is something beautiful about that.

    To love someone is not to preserve them exactly as they were when you first loved them. It is to make space for all the versions of them that life slowly reveals.

    Some days love is closeness.

    Some days it is patience.

    Sometimes it is understanding what was never said. Sometimes it is having the courage to say what has remained unsaid for too long.

    And sometimes love is simply staying curious about a person you thought you already knew completely.

    Maybe that is why even the deepest relationships require work.

    Not because the love was weak.

    But because love is alive.

    Anything alive needs attention.

    A relationship cannot live forever on yesterday’s affection. Yesterday’s conversations cannot answer today’s silence. Yesterday’s understanding may not understand the person standing before us today.

    We have to meet each other again and again.

    Not as strangers—

    but as two familiar souls continuously becoming unfamiliar in small ways.

  • Dreams Evolve Too

    Dreams Evolve Too

    We often reach a point in life where we decide—

    This is my dream.
    This is who I want to become.
    This is where I want to be.

    And then we start running after it.

    We work hard, make plans, sacrifice things, and convince ourselves that reaching that dream is what success will look like.

    But while we are chasing our dreams, life keeps happening.

    Good things happen.
    Bad things happen.
    People enter our lives, and some leave.
    We gain things we once desperately wanted, only to realise they don’t mean as much anymore.

    And somewhere through all of this, we change.

    Our priorities change.
    Our definition of success changes.
    Sometimes ambition gives way to peace.
    Possessions give way to experiences.
    Recognition gives way to freedom.
    And sometimes, simply having time for the people we love starts feeling more valuable than everything we once wanted to achieve.

    Naturally, our dreams change too.

    And perhaps we shouldn’t always call that giving up.

    Because the person who dreamed that old dream may no longer be the person we are today.

    Maybe life isn’t about staying loyal to every dream we once had.

    Maybe, every once in a while, we need to ask ourselves—

    “The dream I am still chasing… is it still mine?”

    Dreams don’t always break.

    Sometimes, they simply evolve with us.

    A Thought Unfolded
    Sometimes we don’t give up on our dreams—
    we simply outgrow them.
    The harder part is giving ourselves permission to want something different.

  • The Empathy–Isolation Paradox: When Understanding Everyone Leaves You Alone

    The Empathy–Isolation Paradox: When Understanding Everyone Leaves You Alone

    There is a strange kind of loneliness that doesn’t come from having no one around.

    It comes from understanding everyone around you, while rarely feeling understood yourself.

    Maybe that is the empathy–isolation paradox.

    You understand why someone was rude.

    Maybe they were having a terrible day.

    You understand why someone disappeared.

    Maybe they were fighting battles they never told you about.

    You understand why someone couldn’t love you the way you needed.

    Maybe they simply never learned how.

    So you forgive.

    You adjust.

    You give another chance.

    You tell yourself—

    “There must be a reason.”

    And perhaps there is.

    But somewhere between understanding everyone’s reasons and forgiving everyone’s behaviour, something quietly happens:

    Your own feelings stop getting a seat at the table.

    You become the person people come to when life becomes heavy.

    You listen.

    You notice what they don’t say.

    You understand the silence between their words.

    But when your own world becomes heavy, you sometimes discover something uncomfortable:

    Not everyone knows how to sit with your silence.

    And that hurts differently.

    Because empathy creates connection, but deep empathy can also create isolation when it constantly flows in only one direction.

    Perhaps the answer isn’t to become less empathetic.

    Perhaps it is simply to remember that understanding someone does not require abandoning yourself.

    You can understand why someone hurt you and still admit that they hurt you.

    You can understand their circumstances

    and still have boundaries.

    You can forgive someone

    without giving them unlimited access to your life.

    Empathy should make us more human.

    It should not make us invisible.

    And maybe growing up emotionally means learning one difficult truth:

    You deserve the same understanding you so easily give to everyone else.

    A Thought Unfolded
    Sometimes loneliness is not the absence of people.
    It is the absence of someone who understands you the way you have always tried to understand everyone else.

  • The Multiverse of Memories: Why We Miss More Than People

    The Multiverse of Memories: Why We Miss More Than People

    Sometimes, it’s not the person we miss the most. It’s the world we had when they were part of it.

    At first, that sentence sounds poetic. But the more you think about it, the more it feels like an explanation of grief, heartbreak, friendship, and even nostalgia.

    Maybe the reason moving on feels so difficult isn’t because someone left.

    Maybe it’s because an entire universe disappeared with them.

    We All Live in Our Own Multiverse

    When people hear the word multiverse, they usually think of science fiction—a collection of parallel universes existing at the same time.

    But perhaps we experience our own version of a multiverse every single day.

    Every person we meet creates a different version of our life.

    With our parents, we become one version of ourselves.

    With childhood friends, another.

    With our partner, yet another.

    With colleagues, neighbors, mentors, and even strangers we briefly connect with—each relationship creates its own little universe.

    Every one of those universes has its own emotions, conversations, routines, memories, jokes, traditions, and dreams.

    No two are ever the same.

    Every Relationship Has Its Own World

    Think about someone who was once an important part of your life.

    There were places that only made sense because they were there.

    Songs that belonged to both of you.

    Conversations that could never happen with anyone else.

    Messages you expected every morning.

    Tea at a particular cafe.

    Long drives.

    Arguments.

    Silence.

    Even ordinary days somehow felt different because that person existed in them.

    Those were not just memories.

    They were an entire world.

    Why Loss Feels Bigger Than One Person

    When someone leaves, whether through distance, separation, or death, we often believe we are grieving the person.

    But that’s only part of the truth.

    We’re also grieving the version of life that existed only with them.

    The routines disappear.

    The future we imagined disappears.

    The little rituals disappear.

    Even a part of our own identity quietly disappears.

    Because every meaningful relationship shapes us into someone slightly different.

    When that relationship ends, that version of us ends too.

    The Invisible Universes We Carry

    If you look back at your life, you’ll realize you’ve lived many different lives without ever changing your address.

    The child you were with your mother.

    The carefree version of yourself with school friends.

    The ambitious version with your first job.

    The romantic version that believed in forever.

    The wiser version born after heartbreak.

    Each relationship created a different universe.

    Some lasted decades.

    Some lasted months.

    Some existed only for a conversation.

    Yet every one of them changed who you became.

    Maybe That’s Why Memories Hurt

    Sometimes you don’t miss the person.

    You miss laughing the way you laughed with them.

    You miss feeling safe around them.

    You miss the future you imagined together.

    You miss the version of yourself that only existed in their presence.

    That’s why returning to an old street, hearing a familiar song, or finding an old photograph can suddenly make your heart feel heavy.

    It’s not simply reminding you of someone.

    It’s opening the door to a universe that no longer exists.

    But Those Universes Never Truly Disappear

    People leave.

    Life changes.

    Relationships end.

    Yet the worlds they created don’t vanish completely.

    They become part of who we are.

    Every universe leaves behind something.

    A lesson.

    A scar.

    A smile.

    A fear.

    A strength.

    A new way of looking at life.

    Perhaps that is how we continue carrying people forward—not by holding on to them, but by carrying the pieces of ourselves that they helped create.

    A Thought Unfolded
    Maybe we’re all living in a personal multiverse.
    Every meaningful relationship creates its own universe—its own language, memories, routines, and version of ourselves.
    And when someone leaves, we don’t lose just a person.
    We lose an entire world that could never exist with anyone else.
    Sometimes, it’s not the person we miss the most.
    It’s the universe we had when they were part of it.

  • Sometimes Getting Nothing Is a Blessing

    Sometimes Getting Nothing Is a Blessing

    There are moments in life when we try, hope, and wait —
    and still, nothing comes our way.

    At first, it feels like loss.
    Like life ignored our effort.

    But with time, we begin to see something else.

    Not getting what we wanted often saves us from what we weren’t ready for.
    Some doors don’t open because they would have led us away from ourselves.

    When nothing arrives, silence does.
    And in that silence, we listen more closely — to our thoughts, our limits, our truth.

    If you don’t get anything, it doesn’t always mean failure.
    Sometimes it means something special is waiting for you in the future —
    something that needs a little more patience, growth, or clarity before it arrives.

    Getting nothing teaches patience.
    It teaches acceptance.
    It gently reminds us that our worth is not decided by outcomes.

    Sometimes, life clears our hands, so they’re free for something better.
    Sometimes, emptiness is not absence — it is preparation.

    And slowly, we understand:
    What didn’t come was not rejection.
    It was protection.

    A Thought Unfolded
    If nothing comes today, trust that something meaningful is being prepared for tomorrow.