We are always changing, always growing—often without realizing when it begins. Sometimes, life allows us a proper goodbye. And sometimes, it quietly takes things away, leaving us to notice only when they’re already gone. I look back at those carefree days with a strange ache. Days when laughter came easily, when home felt lighter, when the future wasn’t heavy with expectations. Growing up didn’t arrive loudly—it settled in slowly, until one day responsibility replaced ease, and everything felt different. Womanhood unfolds in layers: marriage, children, emotional strain, the weight of rishta culture and unspoken rules. What once seemed simple becomes complicated. A woman is admired for her beauty, yet tested through pain. Judged from every direction, expected to endure silently—pregnancy, birth, pressure—while wearing strength like it was never a choice. And still, it never feels like enough. All I long for are small things. A thank you that feels sincere. A gentle hug that understands ...
I'm sitting here, lost in thought, and I can't help but wonder... what if I could go back? What if I could return to those carefree days of childhood, when life was simple and joy was contagious? The school zone, the friends, the laughter, the silly games... it all feels like a distant memory, a fleeting moment that can never be recaptured. I think about how we've grown up and how we've lost that innocence, that sense of wonder, that sparkle in our eyes. We're now chasing grades, competing with each other, and trying to impress others. We're pretending to be someone we're not, hiding our true selves behind a mask of happiness. But what if I could go back? What if I could return to that version of myself, the one that was real, true, and lively? The one that laughed with abandon, that loved without condition, and that lived in the moment? I remember those summer nights, spent sharing secrets with friends, playing prank calls, and having the best time. I remem...