The thought balcony

 Love, In All Its Quiet Forms by Nidhi Guglani  What is love? I often find myself wondering. It took me years to understand that the truest form of love is often the most silent. The kind that doesn’t shout or show, but just stays. I think of my mother—her strength ,her resilience, her strictness and her endless giving. I didn’t fully understand her love until I became a mother myself. It is in everything she does ,every little way she takes care of the family . And my father—so calm, so composed, polite ,never needing to say much. But we always know his love is there, like the ground beneath our feet. Then, my brother. He was my companion through childhood, my friend, my anchor. After marriage, life pulled us in different directions. But love doesn’t need daily proof. It just lives inside you, quietly, through the years. And then came my own little family. My husband—my partner through everything. We’ve seen each other grow up, raise children, stumble and get back up. We’ve b...

 When God Rewrites the Script by Nidhi Guglani  “Sometimes when things are falling apart, they may actually be falling into place.” — Unknown Life is unpredictable—that’s a cliché, I know. But the thing about clichés is that they often come from deep truths we’ve all lived, one way or another. I certainly have. I started my journey dreaming of becoming a doctor. That dream didn’t materialize. Instead, I became a teacher—a role I came to love deeply over nearly two decades. Still, behind the steady rhythm of lessons and schedules, something stirred quietly inside me. A soft voice, an inner tug—hinting at something more. That voice grew clearer when I didn’t clear the PGT (Post Graduate Teacher) interview. At the time, it felt like a setback. But now, I see it as a doorway. It was God’s way of nudging me onto a different path—one I had not imagined, but one that had been waiting for me all along. Soon after, I joined the Nature’s Appreciation Club at school. Around the same time...

Learning to Stand Without Splitting By Nidhi Guglani There are times when I’m in a fix. I don’t know whom I should agree with—the family I’m very close to, or my friends, my students, my colleagues, or even my parents who now live apart. It becomes a dilemma because I care deeply for all of them. And when two people who matter to me don’t get along, or when there’s a disagreement between the worlds I belong to, it genuinely hurts. Usually, the tension lies between the immediate family I live with and those who are a little more distant—emotionally close, yet physically or circumstantially apart. It’s a situation many of us quietly live with, especially when life has asked us to move from one space to another—like a new home, a new family, or a new role. “Boundaries are the distance at which I can love you and me simultaneously.” — Prentis Hemphill Over time, I’ve come to see that this isn’t a question of siding with one group or another. It’s a matter of learning how to stand who...

Growing Together: Lessons My Children Are Teaching Me by Nidhi Guglani Parenting is often spoken of as a one-way journey—where parents guide, teach, and mold their children. But lately, I’ve been feeling the opposite: my children are teaching me just as much, if not more. Raising two very different individuals has been both humbling and enriching. Each of them brings something unique to our family. One moves with clarity and purpose. The other takes a more explorative path—curious, observant, and deeply empathetic. Though their approaches to life differ, both are growing into thoughtful, self-aware individuals who know what matters to them. What’s even more striking is how freely they voice their opinions. They say “no” when they mean it, hold their ground, and aren’t afraid to challenge my views—sometimes pointing out when I sound outdated. It’s not disrespect. It’s honesty. Still, I’d be lying if I said it never stings. Then again, it makes me reflect on my own childhood. I was obedi...

  A Mirror That Reflects and Distorts By Nidhi Guglani The other day, while talking to a friend—as I often do—I caught myself doing something I didn’t intend to. I was talking about other people. Not criticizing them, not gossiping, just… talking. Reflecting on the trajectory of their lives. How things have changed for them, the choices they’ve made, the turns they’ve taken. At first, it felt harmless. Thoughtful, even. But then a question struck me: Why am I talking about others? These are their lives—their battles, their inner worlds. Who am I to observe from the outside and analyze what’s going on? That led to another question: Why do I feel compelled to find meaning in their journeys—especially when our lives intersect? Perhaps because when someone’s path crosses mine, I instinctively start looking for connections. What does their life say about mine? What part of me is involved in theirs? And then, suddenly, the boundary between observation and opinion starts to b...

  Choosing to Write, Choosing to Live Writing, for me, is like gently laying down every layer of my mind—one after the other—on paper. And when I do that, there’s a different kind of satisfaction that rises. A quiet sense of having shown up fully for myself. It’s not just about the first draft; it’s what happens after. When I read my words again, and then once more, something shifts. The layers deepen. The meaning expands. It’s like looking at myself from different angles, discovering parts I had tucked away unknowingly. Every time I write, I get to know myself a little more. And what’s more beautiful is that others who read it get a chance to look in from their own windows. They respond with their own thoughts, shaped by their stories, their exposure, their experiences. The piece no longer remains mine alone. It grows. It connects. It echoes. In many ways, this process is helping me find myself. For so long, I’ve lived trying to satisfy everyone else—being who I was expect...