Where do words go?

- And where do they come from?

Where do words go?

In a void.

Perhaps.

They float. Buoy. Touch and go?

Forgotten, looking for an exit?

Perhaps.

Sometimes, as respite, a shield, to unveil,

From a song, pages of a book, or talks with people,

They linger idly, wriggling like a worm in the brain.

But with some, they rest. Like, they have reached home.

Homecoming, then?

Perhaps.

Maybe they simply settle into their origins.

From the pen, on the paper.

Picture by Nupur Lakhe

Inspiration often comes from the strangest places. The push we need often arrives unexpectedly from a stranger, an odd conversation, or even an app on your phone. Sometimes, what I hope to hear from family or friends is instead delivered by my fitness coach, a TikTok influencer, or a random quote I stumble upon while doomscrolling. I know that the last part sounds questionable— ‘Who seeks inspiration from TikTok?’ Well, I do. We do. Some of us do. It’s not who says the words, but which words are said. Last year, on one of the days when my mental health was low, and I had no one to turn to, I did something I usually don’t– forced myself onto my mat for a workout. As my coach always says, ‘Follow the plan, not your mood.’ It sounds simple, but it’s tough when you’re at your lowest. Good workout seasons keep me afloat mentally, but some days it’s hard to show up when you are questioning the Whys? How’s? and the ‘purpose’? On this day, I braved the weighted Bulgarian split squats– something I loathe with my whole heart (I say—want revenge on someone? Make them do Bulgarian Split Squats). At cooldown, during Savasana, my coach, in her soft, calm voice, said, “It’s okay if you weren’t perfect; you showed up. Some days, no one will clap for you, or appreciate you; that’s when you clap for yourself.” Hearing those words made my day and gave me the energy to stand up again. Quite literally, too, because have you done weighted Bulgarian Split Squats?

Yes, motivation often comes from the place you least expect it to. Reading this, you may feel it was a personal gym session with a personal trainer, but what if I told you it was my coach on my workout app? And the words she said, in that fleeting moment of vulnerability, felt only for me.

Picture by Nupur Lakhe

When I became a mother, there was little conversation on motherhood, almost none. No one told me it was okay to make mistakes, to question if I was doing enough, or that motherhood would feel like a test I might fail. Self-doubt had seeped enough to make its presence known and occasionally creep up on me. Still, those milestone moments—first steps, belly laughs, nap-time respite—sugarcoated the doubt, offering happiness. Yes, I was being equipped to handle a child, but was I being equipped enough to handle my inner turmoil? A year after my son was born, I resumed my vigorous reading, and the books I read on motherhood made me realise that most of what I was feeling was normal. I allowed the grace to accept that I am not perfect, and I will never be. The stigma attached to mothering makes its many versions disappear behind the stereotyped notions fed by society. I was floating in this soldered identity– me as a woman and me as a mother, and each time I did something that felt closer to my older self, it felt like wearing a coat I would soon have to take off. This stage of life marked the beginning of truly understanding motherhood—good, bad, ugly—and its endless capacity for satisfaction. Even though I relied on books and some remarkable authors’ works, I pushed myself to reclaim an identity beyond being a mother. Reading them felt like having allies. I returned to writing to feel closer to my original self, filling pages with thoughts on my child, my mothering, and everything that transpired in between: the tussle between the creative life and the mothering life. I realised I’d write about motherhood in all its forms for years to come. I found the courage to call myself a writer during this self-rediscovery, though I still wonder if I can reclaim that identity independently of motherhood.

Now, there is a web of mothers online. These mothers are influencers who seem to be having it together all the time. They are financially strong, making money off of content creation and vlogging their routine lives of consumerism, which can pay for a mansion in, for instance, Los Angeles. Some of these women have abs and do a 20-step nighttime skincare routine, ending it with a face mask that sticks to you like gum in your shoe so you can sleep in it and wake up to glass skin. Most times, it all feels superficial. After all, it is content made to be consumed. But when you are doomscrolling on a Friday night, questioning your life’s choices after two glasses of wine, these mothers seem to have it all: What am I not doing that they are? And nothing hurts more when you are already down and out. And in one such moment, a mother/influencer/content creator will pop on your phone screen and tell you in a sisterly voice: You shouldn’t let yourself go. That a stay-at-home mom doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get ready, take care of your body, or apply makeup as part of your routine to feel good and confident. Her words will make sense because she talks about the simple things important for a woman’s confidence: Body being one of them. But also the psyche behind why you aren’t making it a priority. You feel pumped immediately. The stay-at-home mom scenario today has changed drastically since I was a kid, and my mother was a homemaker. The judgment has almost ceased to exist. Anyhow, now, there is a support system full of empathy and sources of knowledge for new mothers on the web, and for every mother who is trying to keep buoyant in the undercurrents of motherhood.

Motherhood aside, sometimes it will be Mel Robbins saying – ‘Don’t take anything personally’ or ‘people’s behaviour and what they say is on them, not you.’ And you will nod your head like you have solved your life’s biggest puzzle. I know, I did. Some days, it is the only mantra I chant to myself. At times, she will be in conversation with a Nutritionist or a diet expert who will advise you to have a protein coffee first thing in the morning. Well, trust me, as someone who has tried it, you can let that one go. Ugh, so gross! Sometimes it will be a book that heals your trauma or at least subsides the pain momentarily, giving you a window to vent out. Or it will be a movie and something you hear in it. Or a podcast. Or a tarot reader who will say: " Cancer, you have been through enough, it is time to let go”, and you will feel a weight lifted off your shoulders. Not because you believe in tarot, but because someone unknowingly acknowledged what you have been holding on to. Writers are often told to be observant; that goes out for any creative role, because inspiration to create can strike from a sliver of a moment. But I suppose it is true for us all because every day is a fight for some wee thing, and isn’t it better to prepare with all the armour you can find?

What I mean, when I share these anecdotes without trying to sound like sodden pages of a self-help book, is that inspiration, motivation, guidance, and support stem from places unknown, from words that seem to make their way to you. So, keep looking for these signs, omens, and secret hidden messages. They could be mere words that will let you know you are not alone. Don’t we all need that? Allies who can vouch? Listen. Because it is underrated. You will get chances to talk, maybe to someone who needs to hear it from you. But reap before you sow.

Recently, I came across this on Instagram– ‘I haven’t felt myself lately, I must be growing.’

Felt it in my bones.