Fortune. Destiny. Fate. Callings. God.

These secrets of the human race, those tantalizing tidbits that lie forever undiscovered.

These beliefs for which there can never be enough witnesses, never enough stories.

I heard it, they’ll say. I saw it with my own eyes.

But the what-ifs are always stronger.

. . .

Do you remember- those days when we told ourselves that if we wished for something hard enough, it would come true?

Those nights where we’d close our eyes, clasp our hands together, and murmur, again and again, this secret wish, willing it to life.

Or maybe pluck an eyelash, hold it against our thumbs, whisper a prayer with our breath.

Please, we might have said- to who, I’ll never know. I’ll do anything.

This silent desperation: I’ll do anything.

The world was simple then, a game of trade, an eye for an eye. If we did this mysterious ‘something’, plucked enough eyelashes, it was only fair- we reasoned- only fair to give us what we wanted.

Those countless conversations about what you could ask for, why some things work and others don’t, what we’ve done wrong.

The incessant questions, us bent over, trying to figure everything out, as if belief was just a puzzle, and if we shifted the pieces around enough times, everything would finally make sense.

The moments of hysteria, telling ourselves that it doesn’t matter; so, so close to giving up.

How long did it take us to understand? How many times did we have to be burnt?

. . .

And here we are today.

The inevitable shattered faith.

Maybe it happened in a single instant, a flash of light, eureka. I’ve had enough.

Or perhaps it was the cool receding of a wave, a void that stretches out further and further, until you realize the water’s all gone and it’s just your feet are steady on the sand again, free from the pull of the ocean.

Here we are, edging away from the fire, once burnt, forever shy. Some things just can’t be forgotten, can’t be forgiven.

Learning to rationalize, to justify, to reason.

Bred with well-thought-out opinions, cold facts and frigid certitude.

Bled out of all blind belief, all idealism.

We learn to forget, the magic of a faith in something that might not exist.

We learn to forget: that exquisite moment of the leap, not knowing whether you’ll come out the other side whole. But we were broken too many times.

. . .

Now: eyes wide open, opening doors with knives clutched behind our backs, sleep with daggers resting by our side.

Burn the bridges that have let us down so, so many times before.

We are level-headed, sober. Our feet steady on solid ground, in control.

Isn’t this what we’d wanted? Isn’t this safer, more prudent? Haven’t we finally figured it out, that there’s nothing worth trusting but ourselves?

But here’s what we’ll never tell you, here’s what we’ll never admit.

The jealousy, the sneaking doubt, it never truly leaves. When they say: I heard it. I saw it with my own eyes.

We’ll snub and dismiss, scorn and sneer. How naive, we might say. It’ll never last.

But inside, those flickers of doubt; singeing, searing doubt. Pretending the doubt doesn’t exist, as if it’ll disappear if we ignore it long enough.

The doubt, the what-ifs, the maybe’s, that eternal second of hesitation, that single leap into the void.

Belief. Tantalizing, taunting, tormenting belief.

Them, with their iron-clad blindness, leaping from the cliffs, coming back whole, euphoric. I saw it with my own eyes.

Us, with our memories, our scars, snickers and sneers.

Faith, this single, impenetrable divide, soaked in blood, brewed in death.

Faith. Belief. Trust.

I heard it. I saw it with my own eyes.

How long will it take for you to understand? How many times will you have to be burnt?

Fortune. Destiny. Fate. Callings. God.

Soaked in blood, limbs strewn all over, skulls lying discarded, forgotten.

Where’s your evidence?

Where’s your faith?

I don’t believe in you.

You, You, You.

Where is your faith?

Photo by Fischer Twins on Unsplash

. . .

In the past couple of months, I’ve been hearing from so many of you, asking me whether I could post more often on this page. I do try, but as a stubborn perfectionist, I’m not always able to get a piece out on time. I hope I can change that in the future.

But for now, if you’d like to read more from me, I’ve started to post shorter, 50-word pieces on my Facebook page, each day. Thoughts, musings, vignettes; it’s something that I hope will allow me to be less obsessed with elusive perfection, and become comfortable with the rawer, unpolished version of things.

I’ll still be publishing at least two posts a month on WordPress as well, though these will generally be longer pieces.

I don’t say this nearly enough, but thank you, thank you, thank you. You will never know how much this community has shaped me- as a writer, but also as an individual. How big of an impact you’ve had on my life.

People say ingratitude is an epidemic. It’s really the expression we get stuck on. Case in point, no matter how many times I edit a thank you note, it comes out sounding flat and formulaic.

But I need you to know that no matter how curt a ‘thank you’ can sound on the screen, I truly do appreciate it, every single note you send my way.

Faith doesn’t have to be religious.

For all those of you who’ve taken the time to read my work, give it a chance, give me a chance, offer a new perspective, feedback, praise, encouragement, you’ve given me faith.

In myself, in the world, in words, in art: you’ve made everything worth it.

What could I ever say to that?

PS In May 2019, I will be moving to a new web address. I’m shifting to a personal domain and I’m so, so excited for you to see it! Buying my domain is giving me so much more freedom for new features, design, and I can’t wait for you to get started there.

But on the downside, all those of you who’ve subscribed to my blog here WILL NOT be notified of new posts anymore. I’d hate for you to miss out just because I’ve shifted addresses, but WordPress doesn’t offer anything to straighten this out.

So to make sure the change is as smooth as possible, I’d be so grateful if you’d enter your email ID below so we can stay in touch. You can opt-out any time, no hard feelings. I hate spam and I’ll only be reaching out every two weeks or so for blog updates, I promise.

Thank you, again, for all your support.

Almost there…
Welcome to the club.


195 Comments Add yours

  1. Tom Burton says:

    This was such a great read! 😀 Always looking forward to new heartfelt stories from you; take all the time you need with them, they’re wonderfully written & so thought-provoking! ❤

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Thank you so much, Tom! That means a lot ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  2. We have ourselves. That’s it.

    Liked by 4 people

  3. Margie Gandy says:

    Very interesting and honest piece. Faith is a hazy and obscure thing to try to grasp and hang on to. Guess that is why it is called faith……….

    Liked by 4 people

    1. True. Thank you, Margie, for taking the time to read and share your thoughts here. ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  4. The Graphite Syringe says:

    Without doubt there would never be room to grow deeper. I’m forever grateful for that struggle with doubt.

    Thank you for sharing this, it does much to connect with others harboring similar thoughts.

    And as for your posting schedule, I fully support whatever direction you feel best. I greatly appreciate the level of quality you bring with each post. Keep being you. 🙂

    Liked by 6 people

    1. That’s a beautiful way to look at it, Mitch.
      I’m so glad the piece resonated with you.
      Thank you for your support. It truly means a lot.

      Liked by 2 people

  5. izuzetannero says:

    An awesome glued-to-the-screen type of art work.

    Liked by 6 people

    1. Thank you. I’m glad you liked it ❤


    2. izuzetannero says:

      Great job, more grease to your power 😊

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Ethan NOPE says:

    Growing up in a religious home — and having my own intermittent periods of mythomania — primed me all too well for this piece. That transition from the world of faith, the fears and specters which haunt one in it, the weight of eternity hanging on every present… You have captured something essential of it, both the loss and the stability, both the disappointment and the relief. Seeing the price of magic, soaked in blood it all — certainty the greatest killer there ever has been or will be — yet still knowing the thrill of that leap, of living in that world of infinite possibility.

    “Them, with their iron-clad blindness, leaping from the cliffs, coming back whole, euphoric. I saw it with my own eyes.” How wonderful is that leap, how one never wants to chase anything else again, any other high, any other joy, but one awakes so cruelly to one’s own cruelty, the price of that leap: “Soaked in blood, limbs strewn all over, skulls lying discarded, forgotten.” So, one must give it up — one feels one must — forever ruined to the world one knows by the world one knew.

    Again, I feel not so alone, that you are here to give a form to those ineffable confusions which haunts us from one state to the next, one god to another (in the loosest sense). Were you never to write again, still, you would be a master poet — a searcher of the depths — if only for what you have already accomplished, though I hope you never deprive the world of the gift of you words. A rare talent, which is beyond mastery of form onward into the sight of a seer. All faith need not be religious, yes! Need neither all oracles!

    May a light find you which no certainty does corrupt and no cruelty taint,
    A comfort for all times, all ages—open to the world entire, yet beyond
    (If such a thing exists)

    Liked by 7 people

    1. Growing up in a religious home myself, everything you’ve said here resonates deeply with me.
      The ‘faithful’ offer no answers- content to close their eyes and take the leap- while the ones without faith choose the ignore the other side of it altogether, dismissing religion as a mere fantasy.

      As someone teetering right on the border, I hardly know what to believe., who to believe, who to trust…. some days, I might wake up wholly convinced of my faith, while others days bring with them a willful atheism. Both beliefs may last for years together or maybe just an hour.

      I can’t even trust myself, with my divided convictions, each side has their own reasoning. Everything makes perfect, illogical sense in the moment; the confusion only arises in retrospect.
      I don’t believe in you, I might say, but with those very words, I am believing, and I don’t want to.
      There’s simply no way out.

      It’s really no wonder that so much blood is shed over this. Faith is a dangerous thing. It demands blindness from us, cuts deep into our hearts while we cannot see, digs a knife into our backs, convinces us that the pain is truly euphoria. But when the high fades, it all comes back.

      And you never know whether you have begun to open your eyes to the cold, un-magical truth then, or if you’ve started to blind yourself to the reality of the supernatural.

      In this comment, I’ve somehow managed to sort out my thoughts more articulately than I ever could before, and a big part of that was in response to the clarity of your own thoughts. Thank you for that, Ethan.

      I’ll welcome doubt with all my heart but if such a comfort does exist, I hope I don’t catch it: it’s rare that any art can survive in luxury and contentment. The need to write is only there in the most painful of moments, the need for truth only arises in austerity.

      I’m overwhelmingly grateful all the same, for your presence here. Thank you.

      Liked by 4 people

    2. I see your dilemma, I see where you are. Thank you for being so raw and honest with us, Shreya. Thank you for writing this poem that does indeed tell a story our eyes cannot leave.

      But I also see a common misconception, sometimes in myself also, as to what faith and comfort are. Faith is not mystical, it is not a feeling. It is trust in what we cannot see but know as a fact to be true. It is a hope founded not on air or feelings, but on a solid rock. “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

      Why do many believers take leaps of faith, and suffer torture and death for their faith? It isn’t for the fun of it for sure. These actions are the test of their faith. How strong is it?
      These believers throw themselves at God’s mercy and trust their lives into His hands because of how firm salvation, how true their faith, how steady God is. They have comfort and peace knowing where they’re going and who they’re following.

      And comfort—it is not physical richness and the satisfaction of worldly needs. It is not just words, not just feelings. Comfort is peace. It is the knowledge that God’s got it all, that He makes all things come together for the good of those who seek Him. It is the assurance of their eternal salvation and spiritual safety. And for this, they risk everything, they give it all, they throw it all at God’s feet and return it to Him who gave it all to them. He saved them, rescued them from death, from fear, from depression, and brought them into His sheepfold, into His secure and eternal light.

      It is not physical safety. For there are those who hate the light, who try to extinguish it. It is by the hands of these misled people that they are killed.
      God is not any less good for what happens. He works it all for good, and lets these things happen so that they grow in their faith and so that others may see and come to Him also—for He is not willing that any should perish and go to hell.

      And this is why God sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to save us.
      He created humans perfect, but they sinned against Him and disobeyed, dying to God so that they could live to self. And so they gave the sin nature to all their children, so that everyone is born with it. And all sin deserves death.

      But God didn’t want anyone to die and go to hell. He is a forgiving God, a loving God. So He made the ultimate sacrifice by sending His Son to pay for our sins for all eternity on the cross. Through Jesus’ sacrifice, God is offering salvation and peace. Not temporary peace, but lasting peace that comes by faith in Him. All He asks you to do is believe in Him and His Son, Jesus Christ, and their sacrifice on the cross. Once you believe in Him—trust that it is true, know that it truly happened—you are eternally secure. You have a place in Heaven with God!

      It does not take your problems away. Those are there to test you and strengthen you. It is not a health-and-wealth gospel.
      It is a gospel of peace, of faith, of assurance, of knowledge. A gospel of eternal comfort, eternal security. “For nothing can take you out of His hand.”

      And it is in God, in this gospel, that we trust. It is by God, through God, that we have comfort. And it is through His promises that we have peace.

      Liked by 1 person

    3. Thank you for sharing this here, Anne. Definitely something to give thought to…

      Liked by 1 person

    4. If you’d like to talk more about it, I’m always available! Doubt is a tough monster to deal with, and this world gives no answers.
      You can find me at my blog or email me at 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  7. ignited says:

    Wonderfully penned 🙂

    Liked by 7 people

    1. Thank you, Shubham. That means a lot.

      Liked by 2 people

  8. The Warden says:

    Having gone through my own crisis of faith fairly recently, and having exited with my faith intact, I found this piece fascinating; particularly the examination of the mindset of the “apostate,” if you will. I haven’t seem many authors or poets tackle the concept of doubting one’s doubt before. And you did it so elegantly:

    “Now: eyes wide open, opening doors with knives clutched behind our backs, sleep with daggers resting by our side. … Haven’t we finally figured it out, that there’s nothing worth trusting but ourselves? … Them, with their iron-clad blindness, leaping from the cliffs, coming back whole, euphoric. I saw it with my own eyes.”

    It’s very easy (and very common) to flatly condemn either skepticism or faith, so the philosophical nuance here is all the more remarkable. Great work, Shreya!

    Liked by 8 people

    1. I think it’s not a popular topic because it’s so personal… you either believe or you don’t, for your own reasons.

      I was actually hesitant to post it at all, because I didn’t know how many people would be able to relate to it. Especially since faith is influenced so much by your upbringing and your background, I find that most of the time, it’s more of an innate belief rather than a choice. Most stand firmly on either side of the barrier; I feel like I’m always right in the middle, not sure which side to join.

      And since there’s such a clear divide, it’s obviously easier to take a flat stance, because you can’t understand the other side.

      As someone who’d been lingering on the border throughout my life, I suppose I was better poised to take a neutral stance.

      You never know the truth. Who is right? That still bothers me.

      When you’re in the moment of the leap, you can believe, with no doubt, that all of it is real. And when you come out in pieces, you know- with no doubt- that it was all fake.

      It’s still something that I can’t figure out, but I suppose that’s the point of ‘faith’. To trust even in those moments of confusion.

      But blind belief was never something that came easily to me.

      Liked by 3 people

    2. The Warden says:

      Well, I’m glad that you did end up posting it. As I said, art that discusses faith is seldom made by individuals as sincere and thoughtful as you are. Unfortunately, it turns out that there are huge markets for both “All atheists are baby-eating demons!” and “All religious people are regressive Neanderthals!” Quite frankly, those sorts of generalized invectives are really sickening, and I’m happy to find common ground with anyone who refuses to verbally tar-and-feather others based on faith or the absence thereof.

      In relation to the topic of inheriting faith from one’s parents, I won’t deny that a person’s upbringing has a huge effect on his/her thinking. As a result, I think that most people simply continue in their parents’ faith, without any sort of critical or philosophical evaluation. The same thing happens all the time with politics; people just inherit the views or party allegiance of their parents, and shun the “other side.” All I’m saying is that many people seem to uncritically follow in their predecessors’ footsteps, rather than making a conscious choice in philosophical, religious, or political matters. Changing perspectives is entirely alien to such people.

      Apologies for rambling. My point in the last paragraph is that people can choose what to believe, although many do not-whether out of apathy, fear of social consequences, or simply fear of uncertainty. And, for the record, I’m not condemning you for not “taking a side.” It is quite clear to me that you are thinking things through, and, for the moment, you’ve found yourself in the middle.

      Anyway, I wish you the best of fortune in both your poetry and – for lack of a less corny way to say it – your spiritual journey.

      Liked by 2 people

    3. It definitely is sickening, which is why I wasn’t sure whether I even wanted to open up a conversation about it. Inevitably, there will be people who have narrower opinions, and I’m still worried that it’ll become too agressive.
      But I do think personal faith- as opposed to institutionalized religion- can and should be discussed. The problem arises when you delve too deeper into the specifics, like how you believe, what you believe in, rituals, customs, history. These details are completely insignificant. What matters is that you believe. And how you believe is never going to be the same way I believe.

      I think that’s why to me, spirituality is a much more welcome concept that strict religion, becuase its definition allows so much more freedom in terms of faith. But that’s merely a personal opinion.

      My wishes to you as well. I hope you find your feet steady on solid ground with your heart stilll swaying to the pull of the ocean (how is that for corny?)

      Liked by 2 people

  9. Onward!

    Neil Scheinin (a reader from the USA)

    Liked by 4 people

  10. sameer muley says:

    amazing words, faith needs to be earned, can not be passed as a gift.Besides this struggle for faith is one day at a time. sometimes Process needs to be repeated many time in a day or in so many days.
    we have, we lose,we restore faith only, journey goes on

    Liked by 6 people

  11. orkidedatter says:

    I am grateful that you share and you always touch something inside me -my heart and soul.
    Blogging should be pleasurable and you post when it suits you best and when it is right for you.
    Happy blogging and never stop beeing you
    Love from Norway🦋

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Thank you. This means more to me than you could ever know ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  12. Dhruv Mishra says:

    Amazing, just amazing! Keep up the good work.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Thank you, Dhruv.


  13. Faith – it’s such a strong notion, you know, but delicately balanced on a thin line at the same time. I can’t comment on the thiestic aspect but there is another trait that faith begets – hope. Hope is a wonderful thing. It’s a massive driver of human effort.

    Writing about such topic really needs you to see through & through and being convinced yourself. I would say you pulled it off beautifully.

    Liked by 6 people

    1. Absolutely right. I suppose that’s why we’re all so collectively drawn to faith; for hope.
      Thank you, Chandan. I’m glad it resonated.

      Liked by 2 people

    1. It’s interesting and I like reading it~

      Liked by 1 person

  14. Mukhamani says:

    Wonderful. Faith in myself and faith in a higher power has helped me to face all that has come in my life. This is 1not just about going to the temple or praying for hours, it is something within me and also my faith in my husband.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. And if there’s anything I know for sure about faith, it’s that it’s deeply personal and undeniably unique. No two people’s faith are the same, and there’s something beautiful in that.
      I hope I can find some version of my own faith one day….

      Liked by 1 person

    2. Mukhamani says:

      Yes, you will.

      Liked by 1 person

  15. Matthew B says:

    I choose to believe that everything works out exactly the way it should. That all the chaos and pain in the world is necessary for the process of the universe learning about itself. That all I pain I’ve experienced is necessary for the process of discovering myself. I choose to believe this, because without this belief I fear I will spiral down into a void of hopeless despair. Is this faith?

    Liked by 4 people

    1. That’s something I’ve been drawn to recently as well. I find the idea alluring, that all the dots connect, that in the end, it will all make sense… and in a way, I suppose this is faith too because we choose to trust in something that might not necessarily be true.
      But I find that overthinking things like this tends to work against you.
      If you find yourself at the edge of that cliff, and you want to leap- if you know you will benefit from it- there’s nothing you can do but close your eyes and jump.

      Liked by 1 person

    2. Matthew B says:

      Yes, overthinking is a constant challenge of mine…
      When you’re on the edge of that cliff, you can also choose to believe that if you crash and burn, that’s also exactly what needs to happen to further your evolution 😉.

      Liked by 1 person

  16. Well done and utterly professional. What to expect from a persevering perfectionist. If only I had been thus. Faith goes not on reason. Either in or out. I go in and out as convenient. Me the thief. Anyway very nice post.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. I love the way you put it.
      This resonated with me: “Faith goes not on reason. Either in or out. I go in and out as convenient. Me the thief.”
      There are so many times I’ve felt guilty for leaning back on a faith I never believed in, only trusting in it when I needed to. It does beg the question: what can you get away with? What are the rules, and what are the penalties?
      Religion answers those questions for you, but the entire concept of religion is too restricted for me, too controlled.
      So I suppose you have to go back to what faith is, or what faith means for you… but there are always too many questions to answer, too many variables to set into place.


  17. soanuthatch says:

    Wow. The human condition right here on my screen. That was a nice read. I could relate to every word. I’ve never been religious, but there have been times when that nagging little doubt creeps up. I’m not religious and I found myself saying ‘Amen, sister’ every step of the way. Cool.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. I’m so glad it resonated, Lindsay. Thank you for taking the time to read and comment ❤


  18. Do you remember- those days when we told ourselves that if we wished for something hard enough, it would come true?

    With more than fifty years in my rear view mirror, I’ll tell you: Yes. I do remember. I guess that feeling has never entirely vanished, though it changes over time, flashes brighter, grows dimmer, flashes back up again.

    My first time here, by the way, and I’m glad. Your words are lovely!

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Very true, and I love the way you’ve put it.
      Sometimes, I expect faith to be something I’ll struggle with all my life: how can you ever find peace when you’ve seen both sides of it, and they all make sense?
      Welcome! And thank you for taking the time to read and comment ❤


  19. Faith can’t never be relentless and it can drap us with the weal elves anytime when we need ‘it’.

    Liked by 3 people

  20. Very well written 😊

    Liked by 3 people

  21. My Deaf Mind says:

    Where is your faith?
    It is not my responsibility,
    Because my faith is not your faith.

    Liked by 3 people

  22. ilonapulianauskaite says:

    Hello, i’m always enjoying your writings, it’s something special about them🤗

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you. That means a lot.


  23. dchutten says:

    Fabulous workings. The pain, the darkness is so real. I agree that faith does not need to be religious. Keep sharing – I’m enjoying your intense talent!

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Thank you so much. I’m glad it resonated.


  24. Advent Voice says:

    This really was a powerful piece you know. Kind of took me for a side wind the first few lines. Honestly I hope you have the Faith to never allow anyone to deter your writing or pursuing the things you love. As flat as that sounds as the ‘Thank You’s,’ you are known to give to those that read your works, it is just as true. I do enjoy the fact that you agree not one person’s experience with Faith is the same. None would have stories worth sharing if it was all the same. I hope in the future you will be able to show through prose what keeps your spark of Faith alive. You will need that in the future if times ever get really tough. It is faith that allows me to believe that one day my art style will make history: That my writings will changes someone’s ideas about the world: and that one day all will understand the Aim of the Dream Weaver:

    Faith: The Substance of things Hoped For, The Evidence of things Unseen.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. I agree. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and comment. This truly means a lot ❤


  25. TJ says:

    Anne Lamott, “The opposite of faith in not doubt; but certainty” 

    Liked by 4 people

    1. I’ve always loved the quote, and I’ve always envied her stable relationship with faith. It’s such a coincidence: I was partly inspired to write the piece after reading one of her books…

      Liked by 1 person

    2. TJ says:

      I don’t think that’s the sort of coincidence that I would like to known for ignoring. Here’s something for you, and for me.

      Willow – a reason .

      Liked by 2 people

  26. I just saw your blog page after I received a new like on mine. At the moment have browsed through them and they are deep and thought provoking! Wouldn’t have chanced upon them till I heard from you. So yes, this indeed is a two way street to share thoughts.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. It definitely is. Thank you for taking the time to visit and reach out to me. ❤


  27. Merry Lark says:

    Bless you! I love your honest openness! ♥️

    Liked by 5 people

    1. Thank you! I’m glad it resonated.

      Liked by 2 people

  28. Such a beautiful piece

    Liked by 5 people

  29. ilonapulianauskaite says:


    Liked by 1 person

  30. Srushti says:

    This is so beautiful. I’m mind blown, this is honestly one of the best posts I’ve come across ❤ keep writing, please. You have a gift.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Thank you so much, Srushti! That truly means a lot ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  31. WOW! I enjoy reading ur post.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Thank you, Prithviraj.

      Liked by 1 person

    2. All my pleasure for sharing such a beautiful idea.

      Liked by 1 person

  32. Daniella Ntuen says:

    This is the first of your posts I’ve read and my oh my!! I couldn’t pull my eyes off the screen because I was so eager to know what the next word/thought would be. An amazing piece really!

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Thank you so much, Daniella. This truly means a lot ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  33. Maybe I’ve not trusted enough, to achieve its magic. Blind faith is really hard when the world screams realism. Lovely piece by the way.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Mmm it definitely is.
      But I feel like it’s also, in a way, impossible to avoid. Even when you’re completely averse to religion and spirituality as concepts, hope is something we all need to keep going on.
      And hope, at its root, is a blind faith. You don’t know it’s going to happen. You just wish it will.
      The way I see it, however realistic you want to be, hope- and thus, faith- will always sneak in, because that’s the only way you survive.

      Liked by 2 people

    2. You’re right, at the start of this piece, it really brought back alot of memories as a child, when I wished, sometimes desperately, but it never did happened accordingly. Nowadays hope feels like a last bet, almost like a miracle. What if its just false hope? I guess it helps as well.

      Liked by 1 person

    3. There are always too many questions to answer. Too many what-ifs, too many variables, too many religions, too many beliefs. Who is right? I suppose we’ll have to make our peace with never getting to the bottom of it.

      Liked by 1 person

    4. I realised that the beauty of your post is the ability to lay out the subtle things, or the confusing, huge messy stuff and put it into words. Words we can all process and have thoughts about it.
      P.S I don’t think I will ever be able to make peace with it. XD I am in a love/hate relationship with this. Thanks for the sincere replies.

      Liked by 2 people

    5. Thank you. As I read this, I’m starting to realize that it’s all I ever wanted to do. ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  34. My gosh. How do you come up with such beautiful and haunting creative masterpieces? Thank you for sharing your brilliant talent.

    Liked by 5 people

    1. Thank you so much, Hannah. This means so much to me ❤

      Liked by 1 person

    2. Of course! Thank you for sharing your work! 😊

      Liked by 2 people

  35. Aarohi says:

    Wow. Always looking forward to your posts. This one was just mind blowing. I loved it ❤️

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Thank you, Aarohi. That means a lot ❤


  36. sameermuley says:

    Reblogged this on ANUBANDHAKA and commented:
    amazing read from Shreya Vikram.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Thank you. This truly means a lot ❤


  37. Theophilus says:

    Faith. You can read about it in the New Testament of the Holy Bible: The book of Hebrews, Chapter 11.

    Liked by 3 people

  38. Wow. Yes. Teach me how you pen!!!! This is amazing!

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Haha, thank you so much, Amanda!
      “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” 😉

      Liked by 1 person

  39. Amazing!! You rendered me speechless …💖
    Keep giving new hope through your art. May God bless you dear!

    Liked by 5 people

    1. Thank you so much, Bhavya. This truly means a lot ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  40. Very moving piece. Trusting ourselves is truely key.

    Liked by 6 people

    1. Very true. Thank you, Stacy, for taking the time to read and share your thoughts ❤️

      Liked by 1 person

  41. Anita Bacha says:

    Awesome piece, Shreya . Love it.

    Liked by 5 people

    1. Thank you, Anita.


  42. ilonapulianauskaite says:

    Always interesting and takes my attention, i like your writings and stories🤗

    Liked by 2 people

  43. Abhijit Ray says:


    Liked by 2 people

  44. hjlabre says:

    That was beautifully written. thank you for sharing.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Thank you. I’m glad it resonated ❤


  45. A very pleasant read. Beautiful, a bit sad, a bit nostalgic. Made the evening nicer 🙂

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Thank you. I’m glad it resonated ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  46. Imageraza says:

    Hi Shreya,

    I could literally feel your perfectionism. It was a pleasure!
    Thank you for this profound, in a certain way reminding, post.

    Liked by 5 people

    1. Haha, delighted to hear that, Chris! Thank you for taking the time to read and comment ❤

      Liked by 1 person

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