প্ৰজ্ঞা-An intuition

T oday, in my quiet leisure, I spent hours watching The Cottage Fairy . Her world feels like a soft lullaby—wrapped in forest stillness, handwoven routines, and the gentle rhythm of mindful living. I found myself pausing, rewinding, and watching again—just to catch the subtle magic in her everyday life. I began jotting down the little things that spoke to me: the way she begins her mornings with tea and sunlight, how she tends to her space with care, how she moves slowly, like time isn't something to chase but to cherish. There’s a healing presence in her simplicity—a kind of soul-soothing silence that makes me want to slow down too. Her rituals remind me that beauty exists in ordinary moments...in folded linen, wildflowers in glass jars, handwritten letters, and the way light spills through a window. Watching her felt like a gentle nudge to live with more intention, more tenderness, and more presence. Today, I didn’t just watch her videos—I documented a feeling, a reminder of h...

Th eme: “ Soft Echoes Of Today ” Date: June 25, 2025 It was a quiet, slow day. Two old songs by Jayanta Hazarika played in the background. His voice felt peaceful, like a memory. Later, a story by  Saurabh  Kumar Chaliha  was read. The writing was simple but deep—it made the heart feel calm. "ৰাতিপুৱা ৰবীন্দ্র-সংগীতৰ সুৰত নিখিলৰ টোপনি ভাঙিল। এটি আগেয়ে নুশুনা গান। কাণ দুখন অলপ সজাগ কৰি তাৰ কথাবোৰ বুজিবৰ সি এবাৰ ব্যৰ্থ চেষ্টা কৰিলে। চকু মেলি সি দেখিলে কোঠাত তাৰ স্বচ্ছ পোহৰ। খিৰিকিৰ ফুটাৰ ভিতৰেৰে বাহিৰৰ সূর্য-ৰশ্মি ভিতৰলৈ এটা সৰু ৰেখাৰে সোমাই আহিছে, ইতস্ততঃ বিক্ষিপ্ত ধূলিকণাৰ সহায়ত স্পষ্ট দেখা গৈছে তাৰ পথ। পোহৰৰ ঋজুৰেখ গতি..." অশান্ত ইলেক্ট্ৰন A small red petal fell on the notebook while reading. It stayed there, like a soft visitor. Wearing a blue kurti added to the stillness of the day. Everything felt calm, quiet, and full of meaning—even without many words. 🌿 Nature Moment(প্ৰকৃতিৰ সৈতে সাহচৰ্য): Went outside with my father today, sitting quietly in the car. The ...

There was a time when I used to question myself—why I didn’t enjoy loud places, why I felt drained after being around too many people, why I found more comfort in trees than in crowded rooms. Everyone around me seemed so full of noise and laughter, so outgoing, as if that was the only way to belong. But slowly, I started listening to my own silence. I began to understand that I wasn’t made for constant chatter—I was made for still mornings, rustling leaves, soft petals pressed between pages, and small, honest moments. I started seeing plants not just as greenery, but as companions. I smiled when a bird sat near me, or when a caterpillar crawled over my hand as if we’d known each other. And maybe I don’t have a lot of human friends—but the ones I have, they matter deeply. They understand the quiet side of me. They know I don’t always speak much, but when I do, it comes from the heart. I often think about how I loved biology as a child. I’d stare at diagrams, fascinated by life’s tiny...

I don’t feel the need to be on social media all the time. I don’t chase likes or get lost in endless scrolling. In fact, there’s a quiet kind of peace in staying away from all that noise. But sometimes, I come across a few creative , soulful profiles — gentle spaces filled with pressed flowers , handwritten notes , soft art , or photos that remind me of old Assamese houses . And something about them feels so comforting , so real . They spark a warmth inside — like a soft reminder that even in a fast world, slow beauty still exists. Grateful to those creative profiles that bring so much light without even knowing it. Just one such post is enough to fill the heart with positivity and quiet strength — a gentle reminder that living gently is more than enough.

I feel this deeply — it's about listening to the voice of your soul , not just following what the world expects from you. Sometimes we get so tangled in logic , fear , and the constant pressure to succeed that we forget who we truly are. But true purpose isn’t found in expectations — it grows quietly from within. In the soft mornings and slow sunsets of Assam , I’ve felt the gentle strength of nature — the whispering trees, the flowing rivers, the scent of wild flowers. These moments remind me of the abundance that already lives inside us, waiting to be noticed. Life is not a race — it’s a rhythm , a dance . And I believe we’re all here to move to our own beat, not the noise of the crowd. There’s beauty in choosing your own way, even if it’s slower, quieter, softer. And even death — it doesn't frighten me anymore. I see it as a peaceful return... back to the stardust we came from, back to the wide, cosmic embrace that has always held us, silently.

  🍁There’s a quiet kind of strength in choosing yourself — In finding joy in the little things, in creating a world where peace doesn't depend on someone else’s presence. This is a glimpse into that world — where healing is slow, tender, and beautifully mine. Photography became my secret language . 🍁Every little capture — a fallen leaf, a flicker of sunlight on an old wall, shadows playing on my windowpane — told a story only I could hear. In those frames, I found not just beauty, but presence . I saw my emotions reflected in petals, skies, and empty streets. It felt like the world was quietly holding space for me. 🍁Then came the everyday rituals . Small, almost invisible to others. Arranging dried petals in my journal. Wearing soft kurtis , red lipstick , my favorite crochet hair accessories . I realized I didn’t need grand things to feel alive. These little habits became my prayer — my way of telling the universe: ✨ I choose joy, even in silence. ✨ 🍁For me, peace ...