Lavenderosy

  • Finding That Soul: A Deep Inner Journey Beyond Material Desires

    Finding That Soul: A Deep Inner Journey Beyond Material Desires

    Since childhood, I’ve never been drawn toward material goals the same way many people are. When someone asked me, “What do you want out of life?” I never found myself craving wealth, status, or possessions. Instead, there was this quiet feeling — something deeper, something unexplainable: a sense of waiting… as if I was searching for someone. Not someone useful, or helpful, or convenient — but someone whose soul I could connect with in a way that felt real, familiar, and profound.

    🌙 A Truth I Couldn’t Put into Words

    Back then, I didn’t know how to explain it. I just felt it.

    There was this pull inside me — something that whispered:

    Maybe what I’m searching for isn’t material… maybe it’s spiritual… maybe it’s soulful.

    And what fascinated me the most was this: I felt sure that when I finally saw that person, I would recognize them — not through their name, their story, or their voice… but through their eyes.

    Because for me, eyes reveal what words often hide.
    They show depth, vulnerability, truth, fear, hope — everything the soul carries inside.

    💫 Life’s Many Souls — Yet Not “The One”

    Over the years, many people came into my life — friends, classmates, family members, people who stayed and people who left. And with all of them, I didn’t feel a material pull — no expectations, no definitions, no “what can you do for me.”

    Some connections were beautiful. Some were meaningful.
    But none felt like the one I was waiting for.

    I never met someone and felt:
    “This person will help me build a future.”
    Or
    “This person will change my life.”

    Instead, I always felt:
    I will stand for myself first.
    I am my own strength and my own support.

    And yet… why do I still search?

    🧿 Why Do I Keep Looking?

    Why do I search for someone I’ve never met?

    Why does my heart feel impatient, almost like it knows there’s something destined ahead?

    Maybe it is destiny.
    Maybe it’s curiosity.
    Maybe it’s a longing that refuses to be quiet.

    I don’t have all the answers — but I know this:

    I want someone whose soul resonates with mine,
    whose eyes speak truths my heart already knows,
    whose presence feels familiar — not because of memory,
    but because of soul echo.

    👁 The Eyes I Still Remember

    There was one moment in 9th grade that changed everything —
    a moment I’ll never forget.

    During a school function, I looked into someone’s eyes — someone I didn’t know.

    I don’t remember their face.
    I don’t know their name.
    But those eyes —
    they stayed in my vision for a whole week.

    Just their eyes.
    Nothing else.

    That’s when I knew —
    this wasn’t just a random look.
    This was something deeper.
    Something intangible yet unforgettable.

    Those eyes made me stop and ask:

    Was this the soul I’ve been searching for… or just a glimpse of the longing itself?

    I still don’t know.

    ✨ The Real Journey Isn’t Just Finding Someone

    Maybe the person I’m searching for doesn’t exist in the way I imagine.

    Maybe what I’m really searching for is a connection that mirrors what’s already inside me — a sense of belonging, recognition, acceptance, and pure emotional truth.

    Maybe it’s not about finding someone —
    but about recognizing the right soul when it finally appears.

    And maybe… just maybe…
    I already carry that connection within me.

    💜 To Every Heart That Feels the Same

    If you’ve ever felt this deep longing — like you’re waiting for something your mind can’t name —
    you are not alone.

    Your heart is not confused.
    Your intuition is not random.
    Your soul is simply listening — deeply, intensely, patiently.

    Let your heart feel.
    Let your soul watch.
    And when that person comes —
    you’ll know them not by their story,
    but by the truth in their eyes.

    “Where intuition meets connection.”

    I write about life, healing, beauty, and quiet moments.
    If my words bring you calm, you can subscribe and walk this journey with me.

  • Who I Was — Curious, Calm, and Determined

    Who I Was — Curious, Calm, and Determined

    Growing up as a middle child, I was always eager to be loved — innocent, playful, and full of curiosity. I had a soft and calm nature, but deep inside, I was always aware of myself and determined. Even when life challenged me, I stood up for my peace and grounded myself with certainty.

    I didn’t like owing people anything, and from a young age, I felt this pull to build my own path in life, even when I was shy or unsure of my next step.

    In school, I avoided being number one — not because I lacked strength — but because the spotlight made me nervous. I preferred comfort, quiet moments, and being real with myself and others.

    🎶 My Heartbeat — Music, Dance & Expression

    Music and dance were my second loves — and honestly, they still are. I remember sitting by the TV or radio, listening to songs on repeat, memorizing each tune and every step as if I were the dancer in the videos. I didn’t just hear music — I felt it with every beat.

    There were evenings when I’d sneak up to the terrace with a friend and dance until the sun dipped below the horizon. That freedom, that joy of movement — nothing compared to it.

    I longed to perform in school functions, but something held me back — I couldn’t afford the costumes, and I couldn’t bring myself to ask. Even when little opportunities came my way, I had to let them go because of money — but that didn’t stop my passion. I danced anyway — in front of mirrors, in my room, in my heart.

    Then came 7th grade: a small chance to dance in a school room in front of other girls. I remember how they clapped after I finished — how their eyes widened in surprise. That moment made me realize something beautiful: my passion could touch others. That memory still sparkles inside me.

    The Shift — Yoga, Healing & Inner Strength

    Woman in serene yoga pose under soft light

    With time, my dreams began to widen. I saw that my love for movement wasn’t just dance — it was expression, peace, and harmony. That led me to think deeper about life, health, and inner healing.

    I want to become a yoga trainer — not only to stay healthy myself, but to help others find strength within. Life isn’t always smooth, but that doesn’t mean we stop living with joy and purpose. Life means smiling through challenges, finding strength in struggle, and healing inside so we can live our fullest story.

    If I can help one person feel lighter in their heart, more confident in themselves, or stronger from within — that’s worth everything.

    Why Women’s Healing Matters to Me

    Image alt text: Group of women practicing meditation for inner peace

    I’ve always cared deeply about women — the expectations placed on them, the unspoken rules they live by, the opportunities they miss because someone else decides their limits. Women are told who to be, what to do, how to behave — and too often they lose a part of themselves in the process.

    That breaks me.

    I may not be able to solve everyone’s material problems — but I can help open pathways for inner healing. Through yoga, meditation, mindfulness, and self-awareness — I want women to remember this:

    ✨ When you heal from within… you become unstoppable.
    ✨ When you strengthen your mindset… you rise above fear.
    ✨ When you believe in your worth… no one else can define you.

    We don’t have to wait for a big moment to begin — healing begins with awareness and courage.

    My Motto — Live Boldly, Love Deeply, Laugh Often

    I’ve always lived outside the box when it came to rules that stopped me from fulfilling my heart’s desire. Even if it meant bending a rule or two, I never stopped living fully — whether in joy or pain.

    And here’s what I want you to remember:

    🌟 Life isn’t perfect… but it’s still worth living.
    🌟 You have strength inside you that you haven’t even discovered yet.
    🌟 You can rise again — even after falling.

    And when you live with a smile through challenges — that isn’t just surviving…
    that’s living with soul.

    Let’s Walk This Journey Together

    Thank you for being here. For reading. For caring. For growing.
    Lavenderosy isn’t just my story — it’s a space for your healing, your dreams, and your inner light. This is a place where we don’t just talk about life — we live it, feel it, and rise with it.

    You deserve growth. You deserve soft joy. You deserve to rise.

    Welcome home.

    I write about life, healing, beauty, and quiet moments.
    If my words bring you calm, you can subscribe and walk this journey with me.

  • Missing My Mother Today: A Daughter’s Silent Grief That Never Leaves

    Today, my heart feels heavy.
    I find myself missing my mother.

    She is no longer physically with me, yet her presence surrounds me in ways words cannot fully explain. I still feel her—in my thoughts, in my habits, in the way I respond to life. It is as if she never truly left.

    The pain she went through lives quietly in my heart. I often wonder whether all the suffering she endured was something she truly deserved or not. But if anyone ever asks me to judge her life or her choices, my answer will always be no. I will not allow that.

    Because I saw her.
    I observed her closely.
    I understood her—not just as a mother, but as a human being.

    She carried an emotional depth that very few people could recognize. Every child loves their mother, but only a few children truly notice their mother’s pain, and even fewer are able to understand it. I was one of them.

    I watched her carefully.
    I learned from her silence.
    I understood the meaning behind her actions and the weight behind her words.

    Even today, in almost every situation, I know exactly what she would have done or how she would have thought if she were here. Her presence still guides me.

    Someday, when I find the strength, I will share her story with you—the story no one really knows. A story that even after being heard, few could truly understand. The pain, the suffocation, the emotional loneliness that I could not remove from her heart, even though I was her daughter.

    Her last moments stay with me.
    I watched her slowly drift away from me, and I could do nothing. Sometimes, it feels as though I remained silent on purpose. As if I could have saved her. As if I could have healed her.

    But I couldn’t.

    Even today, whenever I remember her, a deep heaviness rises within me. My chest feels tight. The same questions repeat themselves—
    Why did I let her go?
    Why couldn’t I do more?

    Without her, my heart feels empty. Nothing feels joyful anymore. Nothing excites me the way it used to. All my passions seem to have left with her.

    And yet, perhaps this is how she chose to stay—
    Within me.
    In my sensitivity.
    In my way of thinking.
    In my silence.

    These words come from observation, not opinion—from what life has shown me closely.

    -Written by Dolly

    I write about life, healing, beauty, and quiet moments.
    If my words bring you calm, you can subscribe and walk this journey with me.

  • A Peaceful Evening I Still Carry Within Me

    A Peaceful Evening I Still Carry Within Me

    There was a time when summers felt alive — not rushed, not heavy, just full of quiet energy.
    From March to August, the climate itself felt different: clear skies, warm sunlight, calm winds, and a softness that touched the heart before the skin.

    I would return from school around 2 p.m.
    My mother would already be waiting, food warm, made with love — the kind of food that doesn’t just fill your stomach, it comforts you. After that, if there was any homework, I finished it quickly. And then, exactly at 4 p.m., without delay, my feet would carry me to my favourite place — the rooftop.

    Up there, the sky felt closer.

    The blue was deep and honest, the clouds pure white, floating freely. I would sit calmly, always facing the east direction, letting the environment sink into me. There was no overthinking then. No stress. No tension. No desires running in my mind.
    It felt as if nature itself had invited me — calling me gently, making me feel that I belong.

    clear blue sky with white clouds during summer evening

    I enjoyed the evening deeply, but interestingly, I never liked watching the sunset.
    Maybe because sunset indicates endings. And being an emotional soul, I never liked the idea of something ending. I always wanted moments to stay… just a little longer.
    So while others looked west, my face stayed east, absorbing the softness of the evening without witnessing the sun disappear.

    That time of day had a magic of its own.

    By 6 p.m., the neighbourhood would come alive. Children would start gathering — laughter echoing, footsteps running, voices calling each other’s names. That was our signal: playtime had begun.
    We played so many games, danced without music, talked endlessly, laughed loudly. That phase of the evening was filled with togetherness — so pure that none of us wanted it to ever change.

    By 8 p.m., one by one, everyone returned home.
    And the evening — my evening — would gently come to rest.

    Those evenings were the best part of my life.
    A time when I was connected to nature, free with friends, present without trying. Just being.

    Now that I’ve grown up, I realise something quietly painful — no matter how much I want to, I cannot fully recreate that feeling. Life has become faster, noisier, heavier. Responsibilities exist where innocence once lived.
    Yet, somewhere deep inside me, that little version of myself still wants to play.

    I still love to play.
    Maybe not with the same games, not in the same lanes — but the desire is alive.
    Because some evenings don’t leave us.
    They become a part of who we are.

    And whenever life feels overwhelming, I close my eyes and return there —
    to the rooftop,
    the blue sky,
    the white clouds,
    and the calm east-facing breeze of a summer evening that never truly ended.

    — Written with love,
    Dolly

    I write about life, healing, beauty, and quiet moments.
    If my words bring you calm, you can subscribe and walk this journey with me.

  • A Mother’s Smile Was My First Understanding of Love

    A Mother’s Smile Was My First Understanding of Love

    When I was a young child, around five or six years old, being the middle child often made me crave love and attention. That need, however, was never left unfulfilled—because my mother wrapped me in her love in ways that felt quiet, constant, and real.

    I spent much of my childhood helping her with household work. Somehow, even at that age, I wished I could free her from the weight of it all. I wanted her to rest, to breathe, to live without tiredness. When the work was done, she would sit in the corridor with her neighbour friends, holding a cup of tea. Whenever she smiled in those moments, it filled me with a happiness I still can’t fully put into words.

    There were days when I even took leave from school simply because there was too much work at home. I would think—there are so many clothes to wash, how will my mother manage all this alone? She will get exhausted.
    So I stayed back to help her. Yet, by her blessings, none of this ever affected my studies. I still ranked first or second in my class. The peace I felt while working beside her back then is something I have never found again in adulthood, no matter what I do.

    When our housework finished before everyone else’s—especially during cleaning days—my mother would become free early. She would sit comfortably on a chair in the balcony, calmly sipping her tea, and smiling at her neighbours. In her Garhwali words, she would say lovingly,
    “Rakhi ki maa, timñ apnu gharu ko kaam kari liyā ?”– (Rakhi’s mother, have you finished your household work?)

    The sense of calm on her face in those moments is something I cannot explain. And when someone asked her, “Kiran’s mother, how did you finish your work so quickly?”
    She would proudly reply,
    “Yes, my Dolly did all the work.”

    The words “meri dolly” (my dolly)—spoken by her—made me feel so deeply loved, as if someone had gathered all the affection in the world and given it to me at once.

    A child finding comfort and love in her mother’s presence

    I was always an emotional child, sensitive to people’s feelings, able to sense emotions and vibes easily. When I looked at my mother, I saw no greed in her heart—not for possessions, not for wealth. She owned no jewellery, wore no expensive clothes, had no savings. Yet the peace and smile that lived on her face felt like her greatest ornament. That happiness was her true wealth.

    She believed deeply in giving. She used to say, “I thank God that my hands are always above—able to give to others, able to help those in need.”
    Her thoughts inspired me more than she ever knew.

    Whenever life presented her with problems, she handled them on her own. She was never afraid of taking risks. She trusted herself completely—believing that the decisions she made were right. And most of the time, they were.

    If I were asked who my role model was during my childhood, my answer would be simple.
    It was my mother.

    And it still is.

    I love her—always.

    I write about life, healing, beauty, and quiet moments.
    If my words bring you calm, you can subscribe and walk this journey with me.