Magic Water

Please find attached on the left hand side, the Motivation to write this one

The past few days feel like I skipped chapters of my own life and still somehow had to understand the plot. Not skimmed, skipped. And yet, everything still expects you to respond like you were paying attention the whole time.

It’s been overwhelming in that very specific way where nothing is technically wrong, but everything feels like too much. Like the universe heard me say “I’m bored” and decided to humble me immediately. Lesson learned: boredom is a dangerous thing to admit out loud. The universe doesn’t like being taken for granted and surely loves rage-bait.

Somewhere between the noise, the exhaustion, and the random moments of clarity, something settled. There’s a reason niyati comes from niyat. Destiny is a moral thing, it arrives from your intentions. It quietly decides what sticks, what stays, what finds you again. Not in a magical, instant gratification or destructive thing, but in a slow, inevitable way.

That’s why things hit when they do. That’s why the same sentence can mean nothing one day and everything the next. That’s why your algorithm suddenly feels like it knows you better than people do. Maybe timing isn’t coincidence. Maybe it’s alignment catching up and asking you to reflect?

Also, the books weren’t trying to sound deep, maybe they were just right, and the philosophers weren’t actually high. You actually have to count your blessings while you’re having a breakdown. You have to be kind when life isn’t particularly kind back. You have to actively choose to see the good, because there really isn’t another way out. You don’t get to pause being a good person just because life feels heavy. You don’t get to opt out of the good you just because you’re overwhelmed. You still have to choose better thoughts when worse ones are louder. Not because it’s noble, but because it’s necessary. There genuinely isn’t another way out.

But let’s not confuse that with tolerance. For eg:

I’m kind, but I’m not available for nonsense. The grass is greener wherever I stand, not because life is perfect, but because I choose to water what’s mine. Just because I can do more doesn’t mean I’m not already doing enough.

And I’ve learned to react less. Not because I don’t feel, but because I don’t need to perform chaos to be understood. If you don’t get it, you don’t get it and if you don’t clap for me, that’s fine. I’ve seen the teams you clap for, I’m not looking for validation from a system I don’t respect.

I give because I have. And I have because I give. That’s a cycle I’m proud of. But I’m not shrinking that just because someone else can’t meet it. I won’t dilute myself to make others comfortable. I’ll walk away before I reduce who I am.

There's also something else I’ve been learning, putting people off pedestals.

If you strip away the titles mother, father, daughter, aunt, what’s left are just people. People with patterns, wounds, habits, contradictions. Some of them loving, some of them lost, most of them both. It doesn’t excuse behaviour, but it does take away the illusion that anyone has it fully figured out, and it explains more than we’re comfortable admitting.

And then comes the part that isn’t aesthetic at all, feeling everything.

What didn’t break me didn’t turn me into some evolved, untouchable version of myself. It made me cry on a bus full of strangers. It made me question things I thought I was sure about. It made me sit with discomfort longer than I wanted to. SO FEEL.

We glorify resilience but forget that it’s built in very unglamorous moments.

The only real shift is this: you stop running from what you feel. You let it happen, knowing it won’t stay forever. Because it never does. There’s always another train. Another conversation. Another version of you that hasn’t met you yet.

Everything alive moves in seasons. Some phases feel like chaos, some feel like nothing, and some feel like warmth you didn’t know you needed, like a bowl of something steady and comforting after everything’s been loud for too long.

The world hasn’t run out of miracles. We’ve just call it ordinary, but why? Bro look at water - that's it? It's magic in your hands????? Drink that magic - water kids. Everything will be just fine.

Anyways - delululiululu later - You’re still here. Things are still moving. You’re still becoming. Heal the roots, and the rest will stabilise. And the sun? It doesn’t ask if you’re ready. It just comes back anyway.

Also fuck chatgpt, make that grammer error. hehhehehe.