SAAMAKSHI MEDIUM

He comes, the  Mahadev , the Ashen King, in terrible grace. He wanders, clad in ghosts, upon the burning ground. His throat a twilight blue from saving a ruined world, he is covered in ash, the ultimate surrender of all form, wearing the stark, ragged banner of detachment. His dance, a fierce whirlwind with the  Bhootas,  is solitary, alone. And yet, she comes. The Golden One,  Adi Parashakti , the First Power. Her silks are woven from the sunset’s fire, her jewels are the starlight. Her gaze holds the entire, breathtaking burst of creation’s spring.  Shakti , the  Mahamaya , the very Power of being, adores him so, but not for the crown, the kingdom, or the velvet of the world. Her devotion seeks the heart's  Alakshya -  the unseen focus of the soul. She sees past the chilling blue, the tattered  Vy a ghr a mbara . She ignores the external, the clothes, the ash, the dire, stark landscape, for she loves the Powerful Soul, the Ever Divine,...

Let’s just sit down for a moment. You’re asking the question that holds the most common pain:  “I’m trying so hard to be kind, to grow, to choose love, and why is that exactly when the difficult situations show up?”  It feels deeply personal, like life is nudging you, saying, "Let’s see how aligned you really are." The exhaustion you feel isn't from loving too much; it’s from carrying a scorecard. The strain begins inside the expectation:  If I’m good, shouldn’t everyone else be good back?  Most of us were taught, very subtly, to put up the guard: "I’ll see how you treat me, and then I’ll decide how I treat you." We call this wisdom, but honestly, it’s fear wearing polite, protective clothing. We interact with preconceived notions, waiting, watching, and protecting ourselves from being the fool. But here is the quiet truth: the shield you use to protect yourself is heavy. This armor confirms your deepest fear, the belief that you  can  b...

For so long, all the counsel, all the systems, and all the psychology, the endless well of self-help has sung the same seductive song: The answer is inside you. You must become the archaeologist of your own pain. Dig deep. Find the old wound. Fix it. Let it go. And so, obediently, every time you felt that familiar ache of rejection, that heavy blanket of sadness, or that sharp sting of being totally down, you dedicated yourself to the task. You sat down with a notebook, meticulously looking through old memories, mapping every trauma, every slight, every fear, always in search of the one thing: what you were doing wrong. But I am here, standing firmly at the water’s edge, to tell you, with the force of a fundamental truth: Stop the digging. Stop the analyzing. You are not the problem. I have come to completely disagree with the models that demand this intense, intellectual picking apart of the self. Here is the quiet realization I’ve received: The more you try to learn, t...

Let's be honest. We all secretly want to be the Gandalf in someone else’s life story. We want to swoop in, drop a pearl of hard-earned wisdom, and watch as their life dramatically rights itself, all thanks to our brilliant piece of unsolicited advice. We crave that "Aha! You changed my life!" moment. We want to be the wise, appreciated sage. But today, I’m going to tell you a little secret:  guiding someone who hasn't asked you for directions is the absolute worst form of love. It’s a toxic little cocktail, and here’s why. The Ego Trap For one, it’s entirely driven by ego. We feel a little bit superior, don't we? We think,  “Oh, if only they did what I did, they wouldn’t be making that mistake.”  That feeling of being "ahead" is a massive ego boost. We're telling them what to do because we genuinely believe we know better, even when they’re perfectly fine finding their own way. And two, when they inevitably don’t listen to your sage advice (because i...

I have a money plant. It sits by my window quietly, observing, taking in life around.  Every morning, I greet it like an old friend. I touch its leaves, caress its shoots. It was doing well, and being cared for but, One day, a single leaf began to dry halfway. It wasn’t fully gone, just weary. I whispered to it, prayed for it, sent it little waves of healing energy. For a day or two, it responded. It lifted its head again, and I thought, 'She’s coming back.' But by the third day, she drooped lower than before. Beside her, two new shoots were growing, tender, green, full of will. Yet my eyes stayed fixed on the fading one. I kept pouring love into her, as if my care could reverse her destiny. And then I realised. This leaf did not want to live. It wasn’t neglect. It wasn’t a lack of love. It was simply time. Perhaps her journey with the plant had ended. And all my effort, all my prayers, all my need to heal were trying to rewrite a path that was never mine to change. When she fi...

Dear friends, Writing has always been my way of pausing, of listening within, and of sharing little reflections that life gifts me. Many of you have been part of this journey through my blog, and I’m so grateful for that love. I’m now happy to share my new book with you:  Life in 21 Essays : Short, soulful writings to slow down and rediscover what matters.  These essays are simple, heartfelt pieces that came to me naturally. Words you can read in a quiet moment, and maybe find a little of yourself in. If this resonates, I’d be so grateful for your support: Get it here:  Amazon.com Get it here:  Amazon.in With love and gratitude, Saamakshi

Think back to the last time you truly prayed. Not the hurried words under your breath before a meeting, not the casual “please help me” whispered on the way out the door - but real prayer. You stood, hands joined, eyes closed, heart open. What did you pray for? Chances are, you asked for something. Strength, love, acceptance. Healing for yourself or someone you care about. Protection, guidance, forgiveness. And there’s nothing wrong with that, yet, in that very asking, prayer often loses its essence. Because when we pray only to receive, it becomes pleading. We hand over our power to something outside ourselves, hoping that the Divine will fill the emptiness we imagine exists within us. So often, prayer becomes a kind of bargaining. We sit before God, list our troubles, and say, “Please fix this for me.” In that moment, we unknowingly shrink ourselves. We reduce prayer to pleading, as though the Divine were a distant authority and we were helpless children waiting to be rescued. But Go...

A wise man once said that a grudge is like a stone in the heart. Heavy. Cold. Silent, yet weighing us down in ways we can barely measure. We’ve all been told to forgive, to release, to let go. And so often, we convince ourselves that we have, because we stopped reacting, because we distanced ourselves, because we quietly send love from afar while still holding that invisible wall. But deep within, the story remains. The story of what they did, how they failed us, how they broke us, how we will never let it happen again. That story becomes the lens through which we see them, the script we hand them to act out every time they walk into our lives. And then we nod knowingly “see, I told you so.” But this is not forgiveness. This is not letting go. This is living in a prison of your own making . We cling to the saying “forgive but don’t forget,” not realizing that this is exactly what keeps us chained. Because if you don’t forget, if you don’t truly delete the story, then forgiveness is onl...

The most beautiful step you can take on your journey is not a grand one. It is not in reaching the highest peak, nor in hiding away in silence. It is something much simpler, much softer: a prayer whispered for someone else. A prayer for Mother Earth, who carries us so faithfully. Think of her for a moment. How she gives without asking anything in return. The fruits, the air, the rain, the flowers that bloom only to make us smile. She doesn’t demand thanks, yet still she gives. To pause and say,  thank you, Mother,  is to remember what unconditional love looks like. Then let your prayer travel outward. First to those closest to you, those whose faces live in your heart. Then let it drift wider: to the neighbor you don’t really know, to the stranger you passed on the street, even to the one who once hurt you. Not because you must excuse them, not because they were right, but because blessing them frees you. You can say:  thank you for the lesson, I release you now.  Im...

We’ve all heard the saying:  life is not the destination, it’s the journey. And yet, when it comes to spirituality, we often forget this. We make it about the finish line. We imagine moksha, enlightenment, awakening, or union with God as the ultimate end. But here is the paradox: the closer you walk toward it, the more you realize there is no end. Every time you reach what feels like the summit, another horizon reveals itself. Another mystery opens its arms. Moksha is not a destination. It is a doorway. The only thing that can ever end is our willingness to keep walking. The human mind loves boundaries. It wants to define, to box, to label. It says opportunities are scarce, reality is only what we can touch and see. But those who dare to wonder, who dare to remain in awe, discover that life is boundless. Infinite. A current that never stops flowing. One of my most cherished books,  The Book of Mirdad  by Mikhail Naimy, has a line that captures this beautifully:  “As ...

It came to me one day, as if whispered by the Divine, that there is nothing called control. There is nothing called not knowing. What we call “control” is only the mind clutching tightly at its own fears. And what we call “not knowing” is the refusal to trust that life already knows. I began to see how many times we all hide behind definitions:  I’m not confident enough. I’m not strong enough. I’ve always been this way.  But look deeper when you say,  “I’m not confident,”  aren’t you already confident in that very belief? You are holding it with such certainty. That was my aha moment: so many of the limitations we live with are not truths, but habits of thought. Habits are not just actions. They are identities we pick up, little stories we wear like clothes until we forget they are not our skin. Yet the moment you become aware, the spell breaks. You see that what you thought was “you” is simply a pattern, and patterns are malleable. Reality itself bends when your per...

There comes a time in life when you begin to notice the invisible frameworks that shape how people live. Some follow the path of ambition, climbing ladders in the corporate world. Others dedicate themselves to family, to tradition, to holding together the roots of belonging. Some define themselves through culture, others through rebellion. Each way of living has its own rules, its own rhythm, its own sense of identity. They are like rivers flowing in different directions, and most of us are taught to pick one and stay in its current. Society whispers that you must belong somewhere, or risk being left behind. Most people settle into these currents without ever asking if they truly chose them. Comfortable rules are easier to follow. They give a sense of safety, of belonging, of certainty. The herd moves one way, and it feels secure to move with it. But comfort has a quiet cost. It lulls us into believing that the familiar is the only truth, that to question is dangerous, that to step asi...

For the longest time, I believed the voices of mentors, coaches, and talk-show experts who echoed the same formula:  “Know exactly what you want. Visualize it until you see it clearly. Affirm it until it becomes real.” So, I did. I filled journals with affirmations. I made vision boards with meticulous detail. I closed my eyes and pictured myself living the life I thought I desired. For years, life flowed in a hearty, wholesome way. I was grateful, content, and without complaint. Yet, as time passed, I began to notice a subtle but undeniable truth: not every affirmation worked. Not every vision came alive. And when they didn’t, something in me shifted. The more I affirmed, the more dissatisfied I became. Instead of peace, there was a quiet agitation. Instead of calm, I felt anger rise. It was as though each affirmation reminded me of what I did not have, what was still missing, what I believed I deserved but had not received. Desire was breeding frustration. And then it struck me, ...

One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned, and continue to learn, is that I cannot control anyone but myself. For years, I believed that love meant shaping others, guiding them, correcting them. If they cared, they would listen. If I cared, I should adjust. And so I lived in a silent tug-of-war of expectations. But people do not change because we instruct them. They change when their own soul is ready. Until then, every attempt to control only creates distance, resistance, and quiet pain. What causes most of our suffering is not what others do, but what we  think  they should do. We carry invisible rules: a father must act this way, a mother should sacrifice, a friend must show up, a partner must fulfill certain roles. And when reality doesn’t match these rules, we feel betrayed. a Yet souls do not come with labels. Love does not need conditions. True connection happens when we allow others to simply be. The moment I began to drop the need to fix or advise, I felt a profound shi...

Have you noticed how relentlessly functional we have become? Every second of our lives is accounted for. If our hands aren’t busy, our minds are. We scroll, plan, analyze, replay, and fast-forward, anything but pause. Even in moments of rest, the mind sneaks in:  What should I do next? How could I have done that better? What’s the best use of this time? We sculpt our present carefully, molding it into a sense of comfort we think we control. Yet, isn’t it strange that the very comfort we strive so hard to maintain demands constant effort? Beneath it all lies a quiet fear, the fear of stillness. Of nothingness. Of the silence that waits when we stop holding the ropes so tightly. We worry that if we let go, if we allow ourselves to simply  be -  everything will collapse. So, we tie our worth to our doing: to what we fix, to what we contribute, to how we make things better for others. We name it compassion, understanding, acceptance. But the deeper truth? Compassion, understa...

There are days when the soul calls for a reset, when we choose to stop moving just because the world tells us to, and instead align with what truly matters. Today can be such a day. Today, let us drop the resistance, release the need to chase, and make a quiet promise to ourselves, to live in harmony with our own rhythm, guided by the whispers of the Divine. The words that follow are my declaration… and perhaps, they can be yours too. Today, I Decide Today, I decide Not to act for survival, Not to drift with the hours because they must be filled, Not to obey a voice that is not my own. Today, I move to the rhythm of my soul, Attuning to whispers of the Divine, Hearing the quiet truth beneath all noise, Doing only what awakens love in me. Today, I choose to contribute, not merely consume. To hold myself to the highest vision of what I can be, To trust that what unfolds is always the best, To rest in the knowing that all is cared for. Today, I refuse the chains of habit and fear. I step ...