Lady Eloise👰‍♀️

“….to even cleaning out my puke…” I don’t understand how well this damn cupid is playing in my life. You know it just throws right people at very wrong time that I can’t even think of affording a pretty life with any of them.

It is not about Taylor Swift giving all these songs that relates to most of the girls around. It’s about I don’t know, I just felt saying this. May be because, I am not ready for many of the things that I am being forced to. To like, hate, engage, talk, walk, etc., things are there which I force to do because I don’t know how to handle many of my problems that sometimes are not just problems.

And ours will be left unsaid.

The last time the waves washed my feet was after meeting you for the first time. That hug which still stays around my body, I had only your face. Because, I’ve been searching for that face over the crowd. Your smell. Every time you came and checked upon me. That raise in my heart. And the way my cheeks got hot and red.

I just couldn’t stop thinking about many things that give me life. Wish the world was fine without the people.

When you grow up with a whisper that loving someone is a crime. Or choosing someone out of the box(as per the caste and religious theory) is suppose to be as equal as attempting murder, I think the so called beautiful yet chaotic emotion is draining from me.

I am afraid I turn numb. I had let my leaves fall. Flowers aren’t blooming anymore. Branches had already shed. They wet my roots which aren’t anymore growing. My roots are still waiting for that rain to shower onto them so they grow and bloom in to the most beautiful and healthier tree in the world.

I’m in my early twenties, and only now am I beginning to truly understand the religious texts, those so-called holy books of the faith I am living in. I come from a family where vacations often meant pilgrimages. We visited temples far more often than fantasy parks. We stood in long queues for a two-second glimpse of the deity more frequently than we ever stood in line for movie tickets.

But did I even know why I was there? Did I understand the theories, the facts, or the stories behind the creators I was worshipping?

I’ve always believed in energies, though my personal experiences with them are few. Still, I’ve always been curious, eager to learn more. I believe in the existence of the Creator and the Destroyer, the divine and the demonic. During school, I was introduced to several Vedic concepts, just enough to be able to teach my future children, if I have any. Later, I studied in Christian institutions, and my friends came from a variety of religious backgrounds. That exposure taught me a lot. That’s where everything started.

I began to question things. And for me, that was a wonderful sign of growth. But for my family and relatives, it was alarming, especially because I’m a girl. You know the stereotype: girls aren’t supposed to question; we’re just expected to follow blindly. We’re taught to “learn by experience,” but not to ask why, what, how, or when. That’s suffocating. And I’ve made a conscious choice: I’m not going to live like that.

My friends go to their places of worship every Sunday. I used to join them sometimes. They never miss it. Every day, they sit with their holy books for at least an hour. It gives them peace. They believe deeply in their prayers. They know the verses by heart and apply them in their lives.

Meanwhile, I would wake up groggy, barely manage to bathe on time, and put on a smear of chandan on my forehead just to “look complete”—because that’s how I was raised. But I had never opened the Bhagavad Gita or the Vishnu Sahasranamam or any of our other scriptures. I wandered, looking for peace.

Yes, I did go to temples—but mostly to chat, eat prasad, and leave. Then I’d scroll on my phone and fall asleep. What kind of life was that? Why didn’t I realize that I was wasting opportunities all around me? Why didn’t I use the very phone in my hand to start reading the Gita, to apply it to my life?

It took me five years to realize.

I went back to the school I once studied in. And I thank my father for enrolling my sisters and me there. Beyond just my work at the school, I felt something deeper—like God was guiding me, showing me the path I was meant to follow. I was happy. My mind felt calm. Spiritually, I felt involved.

Of course, my family and relatives worry. They fear that I might choose a life of renunciation, become a nun or sannyasin. But honestly? That’s a path I would gladly take.

So here’s the truth: it took me five years to begin learning the Bhagavad Gita. Years to understand what I was supposed to do in a temple. Today, when I stand in line, I don’t just look around aimlessly. I chant the Lord’s name. I visualize Him. I read scriptures and texts, just trusting the process(trying my best as I am a beginner). I try my best not to get distracted.

And I know I’m not alone. So many in our generation know little to nothing about our scriptures or how powerful and helpful they can be in life. I now attend weekly Gita classes, and one of my teachers often shares insights that go beyond the verses. He once spoke about how future generations may lose touch with our Vedic heritage. That hit me hard. Something has to change.

We’re not bound by compulsions, but we do have options. We just need to know the right path and follow it. Right now, I feel that only He, the divine, can protect me, guide me, and keep my soul calm.

A sloka a day. A Vedic story a day. Wouldn’t that make a difference?

It’s high time for us to open our eyes and stop ignoring what we already have. Every religion deserves respect. None should be disregarded. Religion is not a competition. No one is here to outdo another. No god is trying to win over another. Shouldn’t we preserve each other’s and not destroy them? Think.