More than just a scratch

How much does a wound really hurt? We all know the pain of it, but do we think about it only when it happens, or do we reflect on it at other times too? Yesterday, I hurt my finger while working, and since then, it has been bothering me constantly. It’s just a small wound, yet the pain feels much greater than its size. The moment my finger was cut, I felt a sharp sting shooting through my fingertips, and the pain lingered, refusing to leave.

I quickly did the first aid as it was bleeding, and thankfully, the bleeding stopped. But this morning, the throbbing ache returned and kept me from doing even simple tasks. Every now and then, just when I’d forget about it, a sudden sharp pain would strike again, instantly reminding me of my current problem. Even now, while I am typing, it feels like I am a beginner learning how to type all over again, and my speed has decreased noticeably, making me more aware of the discomfort.

The wound may be small, almost invisible, but it feels powerful enough to disturb my entire routine. It makes me overthink, as if healing would take months instead of days. Strangely, the moment there is a limitation, countless tasks suddenly appear, making me realise how much I rely on even the smallest part of my body.

Sometimes, it’s not the size of the wound but the way it disrupts life that makes us notice it more. Perhaps it also teaches us patience, reminding us that healing, whether of the body or mind, always takes its own time.

The Green Heart of my Home

The green leaves fluttering in the breeze keep the surroundings fresh and lively, full of life. Having plants around creates a refreshing feeling that rejuvenates both mind and body.

I too have a few potted plants growing inside my home as well as outside. A house feels warmer and more welcoming when there are plants around. They take away the sense of loneliness or emptiness, almost as if someone is always there with us.

I even named my first plant ‘Oxy’, a snake plant. I still remember how excited I was to welcome this new member into our family. My brother and I collected mud to pot it, returning home completely dusted and dirty. Mom was upset, but since she was the one who had sent us, she didn’t scold us. We even bought manure to mix with the soil so that the plants could grow well.

Before ‘Oxy’ came, we had already tried growing outdoor plants like spinach and tomatoes. Some grew successfully, while others failed, mostly because they dried up or were destroyed by monkeys pulling them out of the soil. Even now, though many of our plants are growing well, there is always the fear of monkeys. They are so mischievous that they not only pluck plants but even take clothes off the drying line. Sometimes they search for the smallest cloth, remove it carefully from the clip, and even wear it perfectly! It’s funny to watch, but at the same time, they create a lot of trouble.

When I first planted ‘Oxy,’ I was worried because it didn’t seem to grow at all or rather grew too slowly. I placed it outside in the sun and rain, but then it stopped growing completely. For months there was no change. Finally, I kept it inside near my bed, and after a few weeks, I noticed new leaves sprouting. Now, I water it occasionally and keep it where soft sunlight reaches. Slowly but surely, ‘Oxy’ has grown beautifully and is still growing.

Plants inside and outside the house hold so many stories, these include children playing in the park, parents caring for them, adults taking walks, people rushing to work, and quiet moments of life unfolding around them. And among those stories, mine with ‘Oxy’ is one of them.

The thought still remains

I walked and walked, a winding lane,

Each glance I met brought silent pain.
Not just one face, but many stare,
Do they judge me? Do they care?

Do they despise the words I say?
Or wish I’d kept them all away?
Did I offend, or speak too fast?
Would silence have been best to cast?

The questions echo, never end,
A storm of doubts I can’t defend.
Anxiety has a heavy cost,
Arrives when words are already lost.

Are these thoughts blessings or flaws?
No answer fits, no guiding laws.
Still, the puzzle won’t explain
The thought will forever remain.

Among the crowd, both near and far,
I sweat beneath their judging stare.
This burden makes me keenly see,
The world weighs heavily upon.

Is self-awareness a gift or a curse?
A truth I seek in every verse.
Though silence falls, one thing sustains
The thought, unanswered, still remains.