Dr.Vidhi Trivedi

There are some souls who do not enter your life like a storm they arrive like evening light, quietly, almost unnoticed, and before you realise it, they have coloured places within you you never knew were waiting to be touched. Perhaps that is what the first kind of love feels like, not the kind that asks to be called love, but the kind that teaches your heart a language it had never spoken before. It began with ordinary words, small conversations, familiar laughter, a friendship that slowly gathered the weight of something unnamed. And somewhere between the countless little moments, one heart began to remember what the other perhaps never realised it had left behind. There were days when a message could soften the edges of an entire day, when a simple conversation felt like returning to a familiar window after wandering through a restless world. And perhaps, for him, it was simply a beautiful companionship, a safe place to speak, a friendship that carried its own warmth, a ...

Someone’s presence has a way of changing seasons making flowers bloom where the heart had forgotten how to grow. No promises, no confessions, just an unspoken feeling that quietly makes ordinary days feel a little more beautiful. Somehow, happiness begins to find its way into the simplest moments, a smile stays a little longer, and even the difficult days feel easier to carry. Sometimes, a few words open a different way of looking at life, a little wisdom turns a mistake into a lesson, and every conversation leaves behind something worth learning, something worth becoming. What kind of bond is this- one without a name, without a claim, yet somehow holding the most tender corner of the heart? There is no need for an answer, no need for the feeling to be known. Perhaps some forms of love are meant to exist quietly- felt deeply, held gently, and never asked to become anything more. Because maybe love is this: to bloom in someone’s presence, to feel lighter because of their exi...

There was a time when friendship needed no explanation. It was simply Isha, Pooja, and me-three little girls who could turn an ordinary afternoon into an entire world. We played until someone called us home. We fought over the smallest things and forgot them five minutes later. We made up games with rules only we understood, laughed at jokes that weren't even funny, and somehow believed those evenings would last forever. And then there were the days at Nani’s house. Those were different. The house felt bigger when we were together-filled with running footsteps, half-finished games, loud laughter, little arguments, stolen snacks, and stories that had no ending. There were home parties that felt grander than any celebration, because we didn't need decorations or anything expensive. We were enough of a celebration for each other. We didn't know then that we were collecting memories. We thought we were just playing. We didn't know that one day, we'd look bac...

There came a day when a feeling quietly changed its place, from somewhere safely hidden to a smile that could not hide its trace. Nothing was promised, nothing was said, yet somehow happiness found a little space in the heart instead. A strange kind of feeling, too new to understand, too precious to explain, too delicate to place in someone’s hands. Words gather at the edge of the tongue, then disappear before they are spoken; for some feelings are so deeply felt that saying them feels like leaving them broken. There is joy in simply knowing that the moment once imagined came true, and a quiet fear that asks, “What if tomorrow changes what today felt like?” So the feeling stays unnamed, somewhere between courage and fear, not asking for an answer, just grateful that this moment was here. Perhaps that is what makes certain feelings beautiful: they do not arrive with certainty, only with a little more happiness, a little more nervousness, and a heart suddenly learning...

 Mein tumhe apne lafzon mein kya likhu- Dost likhu? Ghamghusar likhu? Ya pyaar likhu? Pehla ishq likhu? Ya sukoon likhu? Ya pehli yaad likhu? Sach pucho toh mera dil kehta hai, duniya ke tamam lafzon ko yakja karke ek pyaari si baat likhu- tumko apni kaynaat likhun..! Tumhe apni har khoobsurat subah ki wajah likhun, shaam ki woh muskurahat likhun jo bina kisi wajah ke chehre par aa jaaye. Tumhe woh geet likhun jise sunte hi dil khud-ba-khud khush ho jaaye, ya woh khushboo likhun jo kisi purani yaad ko bhi khoobsurat bana de. Tumhe apni chhoti-chhoti khushiyon ka hissa likhun, apni har achhi khabar ka pehla khayal likhun, aur un lamhon ka sukoon likhun jinmein waqt thoda aur theher jaaye. Tumhe chaahat likhun, ya tumhe woh khoobsurat ehsaas likhun jiske hone se zindagi thodi aur haseen lagne lage. Aur shayad… tumhe sirf apna pyaar nahi, apni har woh khushi likhun jise dil baar-baar jeena chahe. Kyunki kuch log lafzon mein nahi likhe jaate- woh toh dil mein utar kar zinda...

"Manche Herzen finden einander leise." Love did not arrive like thunder splitting skies apart, It entered softly, a piano learning the language of the heart. A single trembling note beneath a candle’s golden flame, And suddenly the silence of a lifetime was not the same. It takes a fearless soul to loosen guarded wings, To place a fragile heartbeat between uncertain things. For some, affection wanders like shadows that quickly pass, A name written on water, a reflection upon glass. Yet for some hearts, only a few unhurried breaths are enough To discover that tenderness can become something endlessly deep and rough. Like dandelions waiting for the wandering wind’s embrace, Love does not question distance, nor measure time or place. One gentle breeze can carry a thousand silver seeds, And suddenly the barren soul is blooming with unseen needs. I had never known how tulips speak without a sound, How crimson petals can turn ordinary earth into sacred ground. Then some...