The thought balcony

When Writing Finds You By Nidhi Guglani There are moments when writing flows not from discipline, but from stillness. From simply being—being there, being present, being quiet enough to witness what most would pass by. I’ve come to believe that writing, when it’s true, doesn’t always begin with intent. Sometimes, writing finds you. Writers are, before anything else, observers. The art lies not in knowing what to say, but in noticing what others overlook. In that noticing, something stirs—something that wants to be written. It may begin as a fleeting image, a sentence that lands and lingers, or even just a feeling that has no name yet. On a street once, I paused near a man who looked like a beggar—barefoot, wrapped in a tattered shawl, eyes deep with some untold story. He asked for help, but it wasn’t the words I heard—it was the tension in his voice, the flicker in his eyes. Sometimes, there’s a truth behind the eyes that doesn’t match the story being told. Other times, there’s a lie w...

  Every Voice Is a Teacher Nidhi Guglani Just yesterday, I found myself in a conversation about the many gurus people follow around the world. It’s fascinating how deeply divided people are on this topic. While some draw inspiration, others carry a kind of fear—especially families who worry their loved ones will grow distant, donate all their wealth, and become emotionally unavailable. I see it a little differently. To me, it’s not about the guru—it’s about the follower. Each of us holds the power to choose the right path or get lost in illusions. Blaming someone outside for that choice feels incomplete. Yes, we’ve heard about followers who’ve left families or donated large sums—but that speaks more about the follower’s readiness (or vulnerability) than the guru’s intent. In fact, I often feel that every person who speaks around us—knowingly or unknowingly—becomes a teacher. A guru, in essence, isn’t always sitting on a pedestal. Lessons arrive through people, conversatio...

  Coexisting with Difference by Nidhi Guglani  Everyone sees life differently. We might be standing in the same room, sharing the same conversation, working on the same project—but the way we perceive what’s happening can be completely different. It’s this perspective that shapes everything. Look at any group—within a workspace or a family—and you’ll find sets of people reacting in their own ways. Some bond over shared gossip, others just enjoy each other’s company. Some remain neutral, while a few carry critical views about everyone around. And all of this unfolds simultaneously, without one version being completely right or wrong. What’s “right” is often just a matter of viewpoint. We’ve created our own definitions of right and wrong, polite and rude, assertive and submissive. One person dominates a room, another barely speaks. One is always kind, another too blunt. That’s just how people are—different, unpredictable, layered. God seems to have created every kind of te...

  While Life Moves On By Nidhi Guglani Life is going on—even as we sit with our fears about what the future holds. It moves forward, whether we are ready or not. It doesn’t pause for anyone—the rich or the poor, the healthy or the ailing, the successful or the struggling. Life continues for the one in a high-rise apartment, and for the one on the footpath. It flows for the birds, the insects, the fish in the sea, for all living things. There is no pause button, no exception, no special pass. When I stop and really observe, I realise—everyone is going through something. Everyone has a story. Some share it. Some hide it. Some carry it silently. But still, we worry. We fear what might happen. Much of it comes from past pain or things we’ve imagined in our minds. We rehearse tragedies before they arrive. We let the unknown paralyse us. And yet, if we take a breath and just look around Life is not just about fear or waiting for something to go wrong. There have been...

  “ATTENSION! ATTENSION!” — A Midnight Misfire in Toronto The evening we reached Toronto, we were too exhausted to do anything except marvel at our new apartment. After hours of travel, we were just relieved to have arrived — no dinner plans, no unpacking — just grateful to have made it. And what a reward it was. Our apartment was on the 25th floor, and that in itself made us a little giddy. The view was spectacular — we could see the whole city glittering beneath us. Every few minutes, a train would glide by far below, looking no bigger than a toy. It felt surreal, almost cinematic, like we were watching life from a skybox. The apartment was beautifully done — modern, minimal, and full of light. But what took my breath away was the bedroom: it had full French windows — floor-to-ceiling glass on one side — and the city stretched out endlessly beyond them. Even after lying down, I could still see the distant movement of lights and rooftops. It was the kind of view that made ...

  Unspoken Acts by Nidhi Guglani  Some forms of kindness can never be measured. They are wordless, invisible, often unnoticed but deeply felt. Like when someone gently rests their head on your shoulder. Nothing is said. Yet, in that silence, a world of trust exists. That simple gesture means: I feel safe with you. I know you’ll hold me, not let me fall. There’s a scene from a film with two friends sitting side by side, one silently leaning on the other. No drama, no music in the background. Just stillness, and a shoulder. That moment said everything: strength, trust, love, support. Sometimes, the most meaningful language is spoken without a word. Compassion is often just presence. Just staying. Being around someone who is grieving, without trying to fix anything. Without advice, or solutions. Just a gentle hand held in silence because even in the absence of words, a shared grief finds comfort in human touch. And then, there are the smaller, quieter choices that revea...