At first, I mistook my vulnerability for proof— proof that I was the better one. A jolt of Schadenfreude . When it came closer to home, I allowed myself to feel the pain. Same suffering. Different hearts. My prejudice, simply a mask for that old ache: “ Am I enough? ” Now, SCREAMING INTO MY SOUL. The moment I felt ground less ness. But Prayer brought me Home. A Prayer to feel — her pain. And hers. To cradle...
U r inspired. By new ideas. U r different. Because of the poetry u 'think'. U r created again. By challenges. U r me, Adhaa.