Bye 2025 and Happy New Year 2026

2025 is gone.

365 days, 24 hours each — finished in the blink of an eye.

Some days felt like blessings.

Some were just okay.

Some made me question everything.

And some, honestly… I didn’t want to end at all.

While others, I couldn’t wait to skip past, just to see what the next day brought — a miracle or fresh drama.

One thing 2025 taught me clearly:

Most of us, including me, said at least once —

“Nobody appreciates what I do” or “I give more than I receive.”

So maybe the truth is —

we all failed a little in appreciating, and a little in feeling appreciated.

And no amount ever feels enough.

But today, I want to do it differently.

To every person who stood by me this year —

in presence, in silence, in care, in lessons, in love, even in distance —

thank you.

For the support I asked for, and also for the support I never did.

We often mistake blessings as burdens —

like a parent’s call that feels annoying when we’re busy,

but is a dream for someone who doesn’t get that call anymore.

Perspective changes everything.

So if I ever hurt you, ignored you, or took you for granted —

I’m sorry.

And if anyone took me for granted — I forgive you, and myself too.

Because the best thing about 2026 isn’t knowing what it holds,

but knowing who I hold in my life.

The right people can make even the falling days feel softer.

So, thank you for staying.

Thank you for leaving if you had to.

Thank you for the role you played either way.

2026 mantra:

• Appreciate more

• Expect less

• Take nothing for granted

• Keep your circle intentional

2025:

Appreciate what people did for you — even if it wasn’t perfect, even if it wasn’t returned.

Let go where appreciation was missing.

Choose peace. Choose joy.

2026:

Surround yourself with the ones who matter.

Love them loudly, value them deeply.

Happy New Year!

May we all appreciate more and regret less.

— Tanay ✨

My Journey in search of Love

Letters of “Love” from “Love”

“Letter: Forever yours”

Son,

Your mom was the love of my life. I wish she were here today to hold your hand through your heartbreak. I’m not saying your pain isn’t real — heartbreak always is. But to me, other than you, this letter is the most cherished gift she ever gave me. I hope reading this gives you some solace.

Hi Tanay,

How are you? It’s been so long since we last exchanged letters. I miss those days we ran out of letters to talk about what was going on with us.

Just today, a family came to our house to see me for an alliance. The boy was handsome, but he barely spoke. Honestly, I was irritated. I didn’t even want to meet him. But what else could I do? I’m not yet ready to tell my parents about you — that I love you — nor are they ready to believe that a love marriage can be as strong as an arranged one.

They’ve spent their lives doing what they thought was best for me. And I owe them everything. In fact, isn’t it because of them that we met at all? They decided on my college, believing it would be best for their daughter — and there you were. But now, trying to convince them that love can be chosen, that it can be just as sacred as what they want for me, is becoming harder every day.

I think the real reason parents hesitate about love marriages is this: you take away their chance to pick “their” version of the perfect partner for their child. All our lives, they’ve been making decisions for us, and then one day, we say we’ll make our own — the biggest one yet. I don’t even fault them for it. They’ve seen the world before us. They only want to protect us.

I’m sorry for the way we parted last time. I’m sorry for not telling you about the proposals. It wasn’t to hurt you; I just wasn’t ready for that discussion. You would’ve asked, “So, are you having second thoughts about marrying me?” And I would’ve wanted to scream, “No! I’m not!”

Tanay, I love you. But I also respect my parents deeply. They are my world. But just because I want a future with you, I can’t abandon my past or my family. I want you and them, both. I’m trying to hold the best of both worlds together.

I don’t know how I’ll do it. But I do know this: if marriage is written for me, the only person I will marry is you. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose my parents. I dream of a life where you and I are together, and our families are happy with us.

All through our relationship, you’ve been my rock. And I know it’s unfair, but I need you to be my rock again now. Please stand by me. Write back soon. I can’t wait for the day we’re married and building our own big, happy family.

Yours only,
Anaya

This was the letter your mom wrote to me when we’d just finished college. We were unemployed and uncertain, and I didn’t dare ask her parents for her hand. She was far out of my league — the daughter of a wealthy, respected family — while I was just a middle-class boy with nothing but dreams. She had every reason to leave me for someone else.

Instead, she promised me that if she were ever to marry, it would be me. And she kept that promise. She became my life’s greatest blessing.

I don’t know the reason for your breakup. But let me tell you this: the most difficult decision to stick by is a marriage or a relationship. And throughout your life, holding on to that decision is never easy. Sometimes you’ll be at fault. Sometimes your partner will be. But it’s not about pointing fingers or finding faults. It’s about choosing the relationship every single time, especially when it feels hardest to do so.

When you become that person — and when you find that person who will do the same — you’ll fight, argue, cry, even feel like leaving. And yet, you won’t. Because you both chose this marriage, this relationship, and you’ll keep choosing it again and again.

When that happens, son, that is your best love. That is your best love……….