Conscience, the inner sense

  I’m here. Living. Standing. Giving. Doing everything a person is supposed to do. Yet sometimes, it feels like I don’t exist. There are moments when I talk… and my words evaporate into thin air. Moments when I sit among familiar faces, yet feel like a stranger in my own life. Moments when I quietly wonder: Am I invisible? Or just not important enough? Some people around me care deeply — I know that. But there are others… who only notice me when they need something. When there’s a problem to solve. When money is required. When responsibility needs to be carried. Otherwise, silence. Then the questions creep into my mind: “Am I being punished for something? Is this because I’m not good enough? Or am I just a walking ATM? A problem-solver, a duty machine… nothing more?” I don’t want to feel like a “provider who doesn’t deserve emotions.” I don’t want love only when I’m useful. I’m human too. I have a heart, not a built-in engine that endlessly runs without warm...

Some days carry a heaviness that words cannot fully explain. For years now, I’ve felt a quiet loneliness — not the kind where you have no one, but the kind where you have everything around you, yet something inside feels empty. A solitary soul, or maybe just a mind that gets tired, frustrated, and overwhelmed for a few minutes before finding its balance again. Today started like that — a strange, heavy feeling. I needed to go to the hospital. My body was tired, the pain was real, and I couldn’t escape it this time. Usually, I try to avoid hospitals altogether. They remind me of things I don’t want to remember. Still, I needed money to go. When I asked her, she paused. Not out of rejection, not out of resentment — just because of human moment of thinking(?), of processing. Life isn’t always smooth for any of us. She said she would borrow it from a friend and send it. And I don't felt angry, but appreciate that. Truly. But meanwhile, I asked another friend… and she sent the money imm...

  Story...a journey in search of peace..

A piece of news, no it's a call, spouse shared, shook me recently. Her cousin's husband had passed away. Family, but long gap after last conversation.. Again few other cases also triggered.. Not even someone I spoke with often. But their death triggered a storm inside me. I began to ask myself questions I had buried for years: What is the point of this life? Where am I really standing? What mark have I left behind? If tomorrow I am gone, some who love me may cry. But those who hate me—or those I hurt knowingly or unknowingly—may laugh, even if silently. And many will simply move on, unchanged. What about my children? Will they remember me with tears, or will life sweep them forward too fast? The truth is, I am not a government servant with a title. I hold no political or social power. I never stood in front of society as a leader or influencer. I carry mistakes, sins, regrets. And yet, maybe, somewhere in my journey, I did some good I do not remember— a kind word, a small help,...