If I could have a mirror that always showed me the same scene, I would choose to see my family sitting together, happy, healthy, and enjoying themselves. It's about the comfort of knowing the people I love most are doing well.

Of all the things I love, my family tops the list, and I would always want to be with them no matter what. They are my strength, my hope and my comfort. I need them at my low; I need them at my high. The love, the care, the warmth which I get from my loved ones is beyond imagination. I pray to God every day to keep them healthy and happy always. I have had a close-knit family of four, my parents, me and my brother. Then I got married and am a family of four again: my two kids, my husband and myself. They are my lifeline.

I sometimes wonder what I would do without them. Since my kids are pre-teens and teenagers, they need me for everything. From morning till night, I plan my day according to them. They share their joys, their sadness, everything with me, so I act accordingly. We have lunch and dinner together and talk about how we spent our days.

As far as my parents are concerned, I talk to them every day over the phone. In fact, Mom and I talk about a whole lot of stuff, sometimes about some recipes, sometimes about a relative or anything under the sky. With Dad, it's a friendly conversation once a week, but for hours, though.

The best moments are when I am with my complete family sitting and laughing together, and trust me, I can watch that scene forever and ever.

Above all, I would want the mirror to remind me that life is not just about reaching milestones or chasing perfection. It is about cherishing the present, appreciating the people who stand beside us and becoming a better version of ourselves every day.

This story is in response to November 4: “Mirror, mirror, on the wall…”
If you could have a mirror that would always show you the same scene, what would you choose to see? (A.R. Jacobs), Hope you like it.

Tagging the editors Adrienne Beaumont, Mary Acton, Lynn L. Alexander and Nancy Oglesby to see my story.

No Nonsense November

A Reflection of Everything I Hold Dear was originally published in the Challenged on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Diwali celebrates the victory of good over evil, light over darkness. It also represents knowledge, hope, goodness and new beginings. It is a festival of lights, homecoming, sharing and happiness. Every diwali we decorate our home with colorful lights, makes beautiful rangolis, meet our friends and relatives, burn crackers and eat lots of sweets. The whole vibe is so positive.

These traditions carry a deeper meaning. Every individual carries an inner light within them which needs to be illuminated at the right time. The light of hope gives us a new hope that everything will be fine, the light of courage helps us stand in adversity and the light of kindness which makes us a little more kinder every day.

Life is a journey full of experiences. Each experience gives us a lesson, some good and some not so good but even the ones which are not so good teaches us something. Diwali teaches us not to give up even when the circumstances are challenging as we all have that inner strength to overcome them with time and patience. Material happiness is important but inner contentment is the ultimate goal because no material possession can match the peace of a satisfied heart and a fulfilled soul.

This Diwali, let us make a conscious effort to become better human beings. Let us replace resentment with forgiveness, jealousy with appreciation, arrogance with humility and indifference with compassion.

Let us remember that every diya we light carries a beautiful message. Darkness does not have to be permanent, difficult phases do not define our entire journey, and every new beginning brings the possibility of hope.

Wishing everyone a happy Diwali 🪔

Tagging the editors 🌸Preeti Pathak🌸, Sriram Yaladandi and Rishita Sharma💗for the challenge.

This story is part of Beyond the Celebration — A Writing Challenge by Pen With Paper. Ever felt exhausted by festive preparations, uncomfortable with certain traditions, pressured to spend, or simply relieved when the celebrations are over? Turn your festive & funny encounters, or hidden emotions, into a story.

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Beyond The Celebration — A Writing Challenge was originally published in Pen With Paper on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

These homemade aate ke biscuits are incredibly crispy, delicious and easy to prepare. They require simple ingredients that are usually available in every kitchen. So let’s get started.

Ingredients

• 1½ cups wheat flour (atta)
• 1 cup suji (semolina)
• ¾ cup sugar
• ½ cup milk
• 3 tablespoons ghee (for moyan)
• Grated coconut (optional)
• Chopped almonds and cashews (optional)
• Cardamom powder ( optional)
• Oil or ghee for frying

Note: Use the same cup for measuring all the ingredients to maintain the correct proportions.

Method

1. Prepare the milk and sugar mixture

Take half a cup of normal or chilled milk and add three-fourths cup of sugar to it. Just leave it aside for sometime so that the sugar gets dissolved.

2. Prepare the biscuit dough

Take wheat flour and suji in a mixing bowl. Add three tablespoons of ghee and mix well using your hands. This acts as moyan and helps give the biscuits their texture.

If you enjoy coconut, dry fruits or cardamom , you can also add some freshly grated coconut, chopped almonds, cashews or cardamom powder ( my kids don’t like any of these in the biscuit though :D ).

Now gradually add the milk and sugar syrup, little by little and bring everything together to form a firm, slightly hard dough.

Remember, the dough should not be soft. Avoid kneading or working it excessively. Just bring the ingredients together.

3. Shape and cut the biscuits

Take a portion of the dough and gently roll it with your hands. Give it any shape you prefer, whether round, square or rectangular.

Flatten it slightly and cut thin slices using a knife. You can make the biscuits in whichever size and shape you like.

4. Fry the biscuits

Heat oil or ghee in a kadai. Make sure it is moderately hot and not smoking hot.

Gently slide the prepared biscuit pieces into the oil. Do not turn them immediately, as they may break. Allow them to cook for a little while until the bottom becomes firm. Once they hold their shape, carefully flip them.

Fry until they reach the desired golden-brown shade. Take them out when they are approximately one shade lighter than your preferred final colour.

5. Cool and store

This is a very important step.

Remove the biscuits and spread them out separately on a plate or tray. Allow them to cool completely before eating or storing them.

They will feel slightly soft while hot, so don’t worry. Once they cool down, they become wonderfully crispy.

After cooling, transfer them into an airtight container. They can be stored for around 10–15 days, provided they are completely cooled and stored properly.

Time to Enjoy!

Your homemade aate ke biscuits are ready. They are crispy, crunchy and absolutely delicious. Enjoy them with your evening tea or whenever you crave something homemade.

Hope you enjoy this recipe. Stay tuned for more yummy recipes. Thank you for reading, do give it a try. A simple recipe, everyday ingredients and a delightful homemade treat. Happy cooking.❤️

Homemade Aate Ke Biscuits (Wheat Flour Biscuits) was originally published in One Plate Story on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

It was a usual morning. I had gone to drop my daughter at the bus stop, just like I do every day. The morning hours in our society are generally quite chaotic. School buses arrive one after another, parents rush to drop their children, vehicles keep moving and everyone seems to be in a hurry.

As I was walking towards the bus stop, I noticed a little girl standing ahead of me. She must have been around five or six years old. She was carrying her schoolbag and seemed ready to move forward but there were two or three dogs roaming around in front of her.

Now, we have quite a few dogs in our society. While many residents love and feed them, the situation has also become a matter of concern for parents. There have been instances of children getting bitten kids safety is a real concern these days. An adult might be able to handle such situations but for a little child, even a dog standing nearby can be intimidating.

I noticed that the girl was standing there, waiting for an opportunity to move. I wondered whether someone was accompanying her. I approached her and asked, “Do you want to cross the road?” She looked at me, smiled and nodded.

I then asked her if she was scared of the dogs. She said no, although I could sense that she was a little hesitant. I gently held her hand and helped her cross the road.

We reached the other side, where children from the same school were waiting for their buses. I started talking to her and asked her about her mother as most of the mothers come to drop and pick their kids from the stop and I was quite surprised by her answer.

She told me that her mother had already left for the office. Both her parents worked and her grandparents were at home.

For a moment, I did not know what to say. She was hardly six years old, carrying her schoolbag and making her way to the bus stop all by herself. She was navigating the morning rush, the moving vehicles and the dogs roaming around the society without an adult accompanying her.

An elderly lady sitting nearby close to the temple was watching all this and she knew the girl’s family . She told me that the little girl came alone every day. Her mother left early for work and her grandparents were too old to drop her.

My own children are much older now. One is a pre-teen, and the other is a teenager. Even at their age, I make it a point to accompany them to the bus stop . Living in a society where dogs roam freely, along with the usual traffic and other safety concerns, makes me cautious.

I understand that every family has its own circumstances. Both parents may have professional commitments, grandparents may have their limitations, managing work and children is not always easy. I do not know what arrangements this little girl’s family has made or what their everyday challenges look like. However, I could not stop thinking about her.

At five or six, a child is still learning to understand the world around them. They need guidance, reassurance, someone to turn to when they feel uncertain or scared. A schoolbag can be heavy, the road can be busy and a situation that seems manageable to an adult can be overwhelming for a little child. I kept imagining all the things that could go wrong. What if a dog suddenly approached her? What if she stepped onto the road without noticing an approaching vehicle? What if she needed help and there was nobody around to guide her?

These thoughts made me uncomfortable.

What struck me most was the way she had accepted this routine as a normal part of her day. She answered my questions so casually, as though coming to the bus stop alone was nothing unusual.

I admired her little courage but at the same time, I felt that she should not have to be alone at such a tender age.

I also realised that I was looking at the situation from my own perspective as a mother. I do not know the complete story of her family, I do not want to judge her parents. Every household has its own struggles, and working parents often have to make difficult arrangements.

Still, I believe a child’s safety deserves special attention, particularly during the early years when they are too young to recognise and respond to every possible danger.

That morning, I simply helped a little girl cross the road and reach her school bus safely. It was a small gesture, something I would probably do for any child who needed help.

However, the incident stayed with me.

Perhaps the little girl will forget that brief interaction by tomorrow. For me, though, it became a reminder of how vulnerable children can be and how much they depend on the adults around them.

Childhood is the time when children should feel protected, guided and cared for. Their courage is admirable but their safety should never depend on how brave they are.

I would love to know what you think about this. How do we balance the responsibilities of working parents with the safety and emotional needs of young children?

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. I truly appreciate your time, thoughts and support. Your comments and perspectives always make these conversations more meaningful.

A Morning Encounter That Left Me Thinking was originally published in The Gravity on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Train journeys often bring strangers together. A few hours spent sharing the same compartment can lead to conversations, unexpected friendships and sometimes incidents that stay in your memory for years.

I remember one such train journey when I was travelling with my husband and my little daughter, who was around four years old at the time. We were travelling in a second AC compartment, and there were two other passengers with us, a man and a woman.

The man appeared considerably older than the woman. Before the train departed, I noticed a young man who had come to see the woman off. I casually assumed that the older man was her father and the young man who had come to see her off was probably her husband.

The journey began and as usual, the initial silence gradually turned into casual conversations. The lady was quite friendly and warm. She started interacting with my daughter, playing with her and making her comfortable. The man, on the other hand was rather serious and didn’t speak.

We continued chatting about random things, including where we were travelling from and where we were headed. Everything was going perfectly fine until I decided to ask a question that I probably should have thought twice about!

With complete confidence in my assumption, I turned towards the lady and asked, “Are you travelling to your parent’s home with your father? And the young man who came to see you off, was he your husband?”

The moment I asked that question, the atmosphere changed.

The lady suddenly became quiet. The man, who was already quite serious, looked even more serious. There was an awkward silence, and I immediately realised that I had said something terribly wrong.

I wanted to take my words back but obviously there was no way to do that.

I started feeling extremely embarrassed. I could almost read the expression on my husband’s face. He gave me a look that clearly said, “Why on earth would you ask something like that?”

For a moment, I wondered what the two passengers must be thinking about me. I had casually asked a question without knowing anything about their relationship, and now I was desperately wishing I had kept that thought to myself.

After a little while, the lady suddenly burst into laughter. She was wise enough to understand my awkwardness.

She said, “No, no, he is actually my husband. We had gone to drop our son at college. The young boy you saw was our son.”

I was completely taken aback. What had I just done?

She noticed how embarrassed I was and immediately tried to make me feel comfortable. She laughed and said, It’s absolutely fine. This happens quite often. My husband is a very serious person and he looks older than his actual age. Most people assume that I am his daughter.

I finally relaxed a little, although I could not stop thinking about my rather unfortunate question.

The rest of the journey continued with conversations and laughter but that particular incident stayed with me long after we reached our destination.

It taught me something very simple, yet important that never assume things about people based on their appearance or a few observations.

We often create an entire story in our minds by connecting a few unrelated details. We see two people together, notice their age difference, observe their behaviour, and immediately start drawing conclusions. The problem is that our assumptions are based on what we see, not necessarily on what is true.

I also learnt that not every thought that crosses our mind needs to be turned into a question. A little pause before speaking can save us from unnecessary awkwardness.

Since that journey, I have become a little more mindful about asking personal questions, especially when I barely know the people involved.

After all, there is a difference between being curious and being unnecessarily inquisitive.

And sometimes, a single awkward moment during an ordinary train journey can teach us a lesson that stays with us for a lifetime.

That journey taught me to be a little more thoughtful with my questions and to never judge relationships by appearances. Now, I prefer to know a little before jumping to conclusions. Thank you so much for reading it till the end. Please clap and share your thoughts if you liked it.

This story is published under “Writer’s Circle.” A space for raw thoughts, everyday fiction and non-fiction, and voices that feel real and relatable. Would you like to contribute? Follow our publication. Have a story to tell? Share it with us here.

Writer’s Circle Publication: An Update

When Curiosity Got the Better of Me! was originally published in Writer’s Circle on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Most dreams occur during REM sleep, a phase characterized by rapid eye movement and high brain activity and research says that it is widespread across animal kingdom as well. We lose almost all muscle tone during these cycles, resulting in a temporary paralysis known as atonia that prevents us from acting out our dreams and potentially hurting ourselves.

Do animals dream? Decades of sleep studies leave the impression that non-human nocturnal lives are just as fascinating as our own.

Mammals like dogs, cats and monkeys exhibit distinct REM sleep and brain wave patterns similar to humans.

Birds like zebra sing or chirp the melodies they practiced during the day while asleep and pigeons show REM like pupil changes and brain activity.

Invertebrates like cuttlefish and octopuse flash skin colors, change patterns and twitch their tentacles during active sleep stages.

The question arises, how is it possible. Well, as per research, their brains process, organize and reinforce learning from the day. Moreover the scans confirm that motor and sensory cortices light up in sleeping animals the same way they do during active, waking behavior.

So, the next time you see your pet dog twitching and vocalizing in its sleep, as though chasing an elusive squirrel, remember that it might just be dreaming :)

Thank you so much for reading. Do share your thoughts, feedback and claps if you like my post. Stay tuned for more intresting facts.

Did You Know…Humans Are Not The Only Ones To Dream was originally published in Did You Know…Short Fun Facts on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Life is strange. One day, we find ourselves happy for no particular reason, enjoying the little moments and the next day something unexpected happens and suddenly everything feels different. Life is never the same. It comes with its own share of highs and lows, moments of joy and phases of sadness. Through all these changing emotions and unpredictable days, we all have something that keeps us going. It could be a person, a little ritual, a favourite activity, a familiar routine or even something as simple as listening to a song. These little things become our source of comfort, quietly reminding us that there is still so much to look forward to.

Well, my way of dealing with negativity and difficult phases in life is through my unwavering faith in Hanuman Ji. Chanting the Hanuman Chalisa every day has become an important part of my routine. It fills me with positivity, gives me confidence and brings a sense of peace to my mind. Whenever I find myself surrounded by doubts, fears, or uncertainties, I turn to my faith. It gives me the strength to face what lies ahead and reassures me that I am not alone in navigating life’s challenges. In many ways, this simple daily ritual keeps me grounded and helps me move forward with a positive outlook.

Every Tuesday, I make it a point to visit the Hanuman temple. It has become a ritual that I deeply cherish, not just as an act of devotion but also as a way of expressing my gratitude for all the blessings Hanuman Ji has showered upon me. There is something incredibly comforting about being in the temple, offering my prayers and spending a few quiet moments in devotion.

I particularly love the bright orange sindoor offered to Hanuman Ji. Applying a little of it to my forehead brings me a sense of happiness and spiritual fulfilment. I also love offering laddoos to Him and distributing the prasad among others. Seeing the prasad being shared brings a different kind of joy. These little rituals may seem ordinary to someone else, but they hold a special place in my heart.

For me, devotion is not just about visiting a temple or chanting prayers. It is about the gratitude, faith, and inner strength that these practices bring into my everyday life. Every Tuesday, as I walk out of the temple, I carry a sense of contentment and peace with me. It feels as though I have left behind some of my worries and returned with renewed faith and positivity. These moments of devotion are among the little things that keep me going.

Tagging Metaphor and Muse ( Prakhar Sahu), Parvathi J, 🌸Preeti Pathak🌸, Nitisha Shankar 🌟, Danish Ahmad, Manmeet Singh Bhatia, Bre H, ShubhamAgrawal and Harleen Kaur to read my story.

Thank you for reading. I hope you find your own little reasons to smile, your own source of strength and the little things that make every day worth cherishing.

This story is part of the writing challenge “The Little Things That Keep Me Going” hosted by The Rabbit Note publication — Sometimes, it is the smallest things that help us through the hardest days.

The Little Things That Keep Me Going: A Writing Challenge

📖 This story is published under The Rabbit Note. Have a story to share? Join our community and let your words be heard. Write for us.

The Rabbit Note

The Little Things That Keep Me Going: A Writing Challenge was originally published in The Rabbit Note on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

In a world where every moment is captured instantly, an old photo album reminds us of the beauty of waiting, remembering, and holding a piece of our past in our hands.

The last time I visited my hometown and went to my parents’ house, I found myself looking through some old things stored away in a cupboard. While searching for something, my eyes fell upon an old photo album.

What followed was an unexpected journey into my childhood.

The album was filled with photographs, some coloured and others in black and white. There were pictures of me as a little girl, my father holding me in his arms, my mother showering me with love, and moments from different stages of my life, from childhood to my school and college years. With every photograph, another memory came alive.

My father worked in government service and had a transferable job, which meant we moved from one place to another as I grew up. Looking through those photographs, I could see how our homes had changed over the years. Each new place had brought a different house, a different set of friends and a different chapter of our lives. Yet, somewhere in those pictures, the same familiar faces kept appearing.

There were photographs with my cousins, memories of visits to my maternal and paternal grandparents’ homes, birthday celebrations, family gatherings, and picnics with my parents. I even came across pictures from a picnic we went on the first of January. There were photographs of festivals celebrated at my grandparents’ house, when the entire family would come together and fill the place with laughter.

Some pictures brought back memories of friends I had not seen in years. I no longer know where many of them are. We might have lost touch as life took us in different directions, but there they were, smiling back at me in that album. For a moment, I was remembering the people we once were and the little world we shared.

Among the photographs were pictures from my brother’s thread ceremony, which had taken place when he was around nine years of age; there were photographs from other family functions too. I even found my parents’ wedding photographs. Looking at them, I could hardly believe how many years and experiences stood between those moments and the present day. It felt as though someone had pressed play on an old film, allowing me to watch fragments of my family’s story unfold before my eyes.

What made these photographs even more special was the time in which they were taken.

Back then, mobile phones with cameras were not a part of our everyday lives. Digital photography was not as accessible as it is today. Taking photographs was an occasion in itself. We used cameras with film rolls, and we had to wait until the roll was finished before taking it to a shop to get the photographs developed.

And that waiting was the real excitement.

Whenever a festival or a family function approached, we would become excited about taking pictures. We knew we would have to wait until the photographs were developed, but the anticipation made the experience even more special. We would wonder how the pictures had turned out, which moments had been captured beautifully, and how we would look when we finally saw them.

When the photographs were ready, looking through them was an event of its own. We would sit together, examine every picture, laugh at the funny ones, admire the beautiful ones, and decide how to arrange them in an album. We would carefully place each photograph in its designated space, often buying another album when the previous one became full.

There was something deeply satisfying about holding a photograph in your hand, knowing that a little piece of your life had been preserved on paper.

Today, our relationship with photographs has changed. We take pictures on our phones, instantly share them with friends and family, upload them to social media, and move on to the next moment. We can take hundreds of photographs in a single day without giving much thought to any particular one.

The old photographs in that album had survived years of changing houses, growing up, and moving forward. They had remained together, page after page, holding memories that I had almost forgotten I possessed.

One photograph showed me climbing a tree while my father held me. It was such a small, ordinary moment, one that probably did not seem particularly important when the picture was taken. Yet, looking at it now, I could feel the tenderness of that memory. My father was there, making sure I was safe, while I enjoyed the simple adventure of being a child.

This is what makes physical photographs so precious to me. They are tangible reminders of people, places, and experiences that time has carried away. We cannot return to the exact day on which a photograph was taken, recreate the same laughter, or bring back the people we once spent our days with. We can, however, hold the photograph and remember.

The old album also made me think about how many ordinary objects have quietly disappeared from our everyday lives. We have replaced printed photographs with digital galleries, handwritten letters with instant messages, and many little rituals with faster, more convenient alternatives. Life has become easier in countless ways, but the slower experiences of the past had their own charm.

An ordinary photo album could bring an entire childhood back to life.

I am grateful that my mother preserved that album so carefully. It still has a special place in our home, and whenever I visit, I can take it out and turn its pages again. Each time, I find something new to remember, something I had overlooked before or a familiar face that brings an unexpected smile to my face.

That album might look like an ordinary collection of old photographs to someone else. To me, it holds pieces of a life I can never live again, people who helped shape my childhood, and moments that continue to mean something long after they have passed.

Perhaps this is what makes certain ordinary objects extraordinary. Their value does not always lie in their appearance, their price, or their usefulness. Sometimes, it lies in the memories they preserve and the feelings they bring back.

In a world that encourages us to capture everything instantly and move on just as quickly, my old photo album reminds me to pause. To remember. To appreciate the moments that might seem insignificant today but become priceless with time.

As one day, the ordinary things we barely notice might become the very things we wish we could hold on to forever.

Thank you for reading.

If this story brought back a memory or reminded you of something precious from your own childhood, do clap and share your thoughts in the comments.

Follow for more heartfelt stories, reflections and little reminders of the beauty hidden in ordinary things.

This story is written in response to Pen & Page the Writing Challenge: Ordinary Things, Extraordinary Stories: The Stories Continue. Join this challenge.

Ordinary Things, Extraordinary Stories: The Stories Continue

Ordinary Things, Extraordinary Stories: The Stories Continue (A Writing Challenge-2) was originally published in Writers Whispers on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Scroll down for the English version

वृक्षों को कभी देखा है
हर मौसम में इतराते हुए
कुछ शाखाएं इधर कुछ उधर
हर डाल चले बल खाते हुए
कभी धूप पड़े कभी छाया दिखे
फूलों से पेड़ कभी लदे हुए
लम्बे ऊँचे कद काठी लिए
आसमान को छूते हुए
पर क्या किसी ने पूछा है
उन जड़ों का हाल
जो दबे रहते है मिट्टी के नीचे
जो अँधेरे में चुपचाप रहती है
हर मौसम को चुपचाप सहती है
वही तो है जो वृक्ष को खड़ा रखती है
घर की नींव सी मजबूत
हर तूफ़ान से बचा कर रखती हैं
कुछ रिश्ते जड़ों से होते हैं
घर को, रिश्तों को संभाले रखते हैं
जड़ों जैसे उनकी भी कोई पहचान नहीं
कोई मान नहीं, सम्मान नहीं
जो दूसरों की खुशियों के लिए
अपने खुशियों को टालते हैं
जो अपने रिश्तों के लिए
खुद को खुद से ही बाँटते हैं
जब कोई ऊँचाई छूता है
उसका ही नाम होता है
जिसने उसकी राह सवारी
वो अक्सर गुमनाम रहता है
पर याद रखो जड़ें मौन हैं निर्जीव नहीं
उनके अस्तित्व को समझो
वो तुम्हे गिरने से बचाती हैं
उनके महत्व को समझो

Have you ever observed trees,
flaunting themselves in every season?
With branches swaying this way and that,
each bough moving with a graceful curve — 
sometimes bathed in sunlight, sometimes cast in shadow,
at times laden with blossoms.
Standing tall and majestic,
they reach out to touch the sky.
But has anyone ever asked
about the state of the roots
those that lie buried deep beneath the soil,
remaining silent in the darkness,
enduring every season without a word?
It is they that keep the tree standing,
firm as the foundation of a home,
shielding it from every storm.
Some relationships are like these roots
they hold a home — and the bonds within it — together.
Like roots, they often go unrecognized,
receiving neither acclaim nor honor
those who set aside their own joys
for the happiness of others,
who, for the sake of their relationships,
fragment pieces of their own selves.
When someone reaches great heights,
it is their name that is celebrated;
yet, the one who paved their path
often remains unsung.
But remember: roots may be silent, yet they are not lifeless.
Recognize their existence
they are what keep you from falling.
Understand their true significance.

इस कविता को अपना समय देने और इसके मौन को महसूस करने के लिए धन्यवाद। यदि ये पंक्तियाँ आपके मन को छू गई हों, तो अपनी प्रतिक्रिया और स्नेह अवश्य साझा करें।

जड़ों का मौन was originally published in The Story Room on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

How much is too much? How much can a person keep giving before giving begins to cost them their own peace? How many times can someone put others first, sacrifice their time, and show up for everyone before they realise that they, too, deserve the same consideration?

The real question is not how much you can tolerate, but how much you should.

There is nothing wrong with loving deeply, working relentlessly, forgiving sincerely, or standing by the people who matter. These are beautiful qualities. The problem begins when they become reasons to neglect our own needs, compromise our peace, and place everyone else above ourselves. We become so accustomed to being there for others that we assume evryone will be there for us but it doesn’t work that way and it really hurts.

Recently, I witnessed something that made me reflect deeply on this.

I have a friend who is always willing to help others. She goes out of her way to support people, even when it requires extra time, effort or personal sacrifice. Whenever someone needs her, she gives her hundred per cent, often putting her own priorities aside to make room for theirs.

Recently when she needed that same support, I witnessed a very different reality which was an eye opener for her.

She had put up a stall during navrati selling a few things and circulated the message among her various groups. Initially, people responded enthusiastically. They acknowledged how much she had done for others and said they should visit her stall, encourage her, support her efforts.

But when the day arrived, hardly anyone showed up.

Out of approximately fifty people she considered close, only two or three eventually visited, even after repeated reminders.

I went to see her that day, even though I was not feeling particularly well myself. I believed that when someone who consistently supports others takes a step forward in their own life, the least we can do is show up for them. Sometimes, support does not require money or grand gestures. It requires our presence.

After visiting her, I shared pictures of her stall in our groups, spoke about the things I had purchased, and encouraged others to visit. I wanted people to recognise her efforts and offer her the support she had so readily extended to them.

Yet, the response remained disappointingly small.

What troubled me was not merely the absence of visitors. It was the thought of how she must have felt standing there, waiting for the people she had always made time for only to realise that very few were willing to make time for her.

Imagine being the person everyone remembers when they need something but hardly anyone remembers when you need a little encouragement yourself.

This is where the question of how much is too much becomes important.

We often hear the saying, “A friend in need is a friend indeed.” Yet, many relationships reveal an uncomfortable imbalance. People appreciate what we do for them but it does not always translate into action when the situation is reversed. They become accustomed to our availability, generosity and willingness to help. Eventually, what began as kindness becomes an expectation.

The person giving rarely notices when this change occurs. They continue helping because that is their nature. They keep showing up because they genuinely care. They may even believe that expecting nothing in return is the purest form of kindness.

But there is a difference between giving without keeping score and giving until you have nothing left for yourself.

You can be generous without making yourself endlessly available. You can be kind without accepting one-sided relationships. You can love people deeply without placing their needs above your own every single time.

The world can be selfish. Many people are comfortable receiving but less willing to give. They accept our time, attention and support without considering what these things cost us. And when we continue giving without boundaries, people can begin to expect our sacrifices while overlooking our needs.

The consequences extend beyond us. Our families may receive less of our time, our health may suffer, even our personal goals may remain unattended. We keep postponing our own happiness because somebody else needs us. Just to remain the person everyone can depend on, even when we have no one to depend on ourselves?

That is why boundaries matter.

Boundaries do not mean becoming selfish or indifferent. They mean understanding that our time matters, health matters, family matters and our dreams matter too. They mean learning to say no without guilt and recognising that we are not responsible for meeting everyone’s needs.

Not everyone who receives our kindness will reciprocate it. Not everyone who calls us a friend will show up when it matters. This does not mean we should stop being kind. It means we should become more conscious of where our kindness goes and how much of ourselves we give away.

I hope my friend continues to be the generous person she is but at the sametime learns to reserve some of that generosity for herself. She does not need to prove her friendship through constant sacrifice or exhaust herself to remain valuable in other people’s lives.

Give because you want to, not because you are afraid of disappointing someone. Help because you care but never make yourself so available that your own needs become invisible.

The next time you find yourself giving more than you can afford, pause and ask yourself, Am I doing this out of genuine willingness or have I become so accustomed to putting everyone first that I no longer know how to put myself first?

Because the question was never about how much you could give.

It was about how much you should have to give before you finally allow yourself to stop.

Kindness is a beautiful quality. Just remember that you are also someone deserving of your own kindness.

Thank you for reading and encouraging me putting my thoughts into words. Do show your love and support by claps, comments.

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How Much Is Too Much? was originally published in Quirky Rants on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.