An End With A Promise

Today, I am not just bidding farewell to the year 2025, but also to the people I have worked alongside for the past four and a half years. Wherever life has taken me, I have been fortunate to meet kind souls, and for that, I carry immense gratitude. I was met with warmth and patience while I found my footing—while I did the quiet, uncomfortable work of looking inward, unlearning, and navigating a few wrong turns. But I feel that the soul upgrade is complete now. This chapter must be shed so the next one can begin.

The universe has its own language—it nudges, repeats itself, insists. This year, the signs were relentless, almost overwhelming. I may not know where I am headed, but I trust that I will arrive exactly where I am meant to be.

MIV will always hold a tender place in my heart. I was a clueless, scared, and naïve girl when I landed in Manipal in June 2021. The head of the institute took me under his wing—shielded me, guided me, and gave me the space to grow into myself. I still remember my first day: he picked me up from the guest house, brought me to the institute, introduced me to everyone, and walked me into my cabin. He made sure I was comfortable, that nothing stood in the way of my work. It was especially kind of him to understand that I might be feeling lonely in a new place, far from home, on my first birthday in Manipal. He got me a chocolate—a small gesture that became a precious memory. I was blessed with diligent juniors and kind seniors who felt less like colleagues and more like family. There were highs and lows, as there always are, but through it all, work became my ikigai. I will eternally be grateful for who I became at this place.

Life, in many ways, was exactly what I had once wished for—a small, cozy home close to work, a kind landlady, a helpful neighbor, and the luxury of a quiet life untouched by noise or pollution. It was perfect, for as long as it was meant to be. But endings, no matter how gentle, are inevitable. Even in comfort, the soul grows heavy when it is denied what it truly seeks. Both my personal and professional worlds slipped into a limbo, and I recognized it the day I chose self-love over complacency—when I refused to drift along simply because it was easy.

Now, it is time to move—to leave behind what once felt like home and walk toward where my soul can breathe again. We are given just one life, shaped by the courage of our choices. The soul always knows the way; all we are asked to do is trust it enough to take the leap when it calls.

On A Day Like Today

I knew the texture of my days there—

the familiar components of the table,

the weight of the chair,

I knew what tomorrow would ask of me.

I stayed because the floor was steady,
even when the ceiling pressed lower with time.
Stability can feel like kindness
when fear is louder than desire.

But something in me kept knocking—

a quiet insistence,
a restlessness that learned my name.

I began to notice how often I exhaled
Only before I went to sleep.

So I left with trembling hands,
not because I was fearless,
but because staying had begun
to cost me more than leaving ever could.

Beneath the fear,
there is a pulse—
the unmistakable rhythm of becoming.
I am learning that uncertainty
is not emptiness,
it is space.

I am meeting myself
without a title to lean on,
without a badge of legitimacy.
And still, I remain.

One day, a door will open
because I knocked as myself;

One day, a door will open

And tell me that it's where I belong.