Alia Bhat:
I have often observed the world with a depth that not many choose to see. Where others glance, I pause. Where others pass by, I notice. Sometimes I look at a person asking for help — not with pity, but with understanding. And sometimes, even while sitting in a moving vehicle, I don’t watch the passing scenery; instead, I observe the lives within it — the unnoticed, the unheard, the silently waiting.
I see a mother who has spent years, perhaps decades, waiting for her son to return. A father who quietly hopes that one day his children will embrace him, not out of duty, but out of love. A sister who continues to wait for her brother, holding on to memories and expectations. And then there are birds — small, fragile beings — waiting for the sun to set so they can finally find their way home.
There is a traveler, endlessly searching for a destination. And somewhere, there is a destination, waiting just as patiently for someone to arrive.
At times, I find myself questioning the world we live in. How is it that we are filled with so many emotions, yet the world continues to grow colder, harsher, and more indifferent? We are capable of feeling every kind of pain, every shade of sorrow — yet, knowingly or unknowingly, we pass that same pain on to others.
There is a mother who still believes her child will return. And somewhere, there is someone who promises themselves that they will go back one day. A father whose hands have grown tired and worn from years of sacrifice. A mother who has given her entire life to building her children’s future. A sister who trusts she will never be abandoned. A brother who believes his respect will always be protected.
Perhaps words are the only way we can give voice to such emotions. There are countless people, like me, who struggle to express what they feel. And so we turn to words — because words have the power to breathe life into silence.
Words written on paper become alive. A pen can inspire someone to move forward. And a pair of eyes, reading those words, may quietly fill with tears. What could be more powerful — and more strange — than that?
I am a girl who never grew up dreaming of perfect fantasies. I never held on to unrealistic desires, because I have seen reality too closely. I have seen how faces change with time, how behavior shifts as circumstances do. I have learned that the world is not always as kind as it seems in dreams.
And perhaps that is when you truly begin to understand —
