Mitra Malani

You know, I’m tired of hearing people tell my mom, “You’re so lucky to have a son like Mitra. I wish my son were like him.” Whenever I hear this, I want to roll my eyes and say, “Oh, come on! You have no idea how much effort and sacrifice my mom has poured into shaping me into the person you’re praising.”  Here’s the truth:  She’s not the one who got lucky. I am.   How I Came Into This World My story didn’t start in the hospital. It began in heartbreak. My parents had been married for eight years, endured three devastating miscarriages, and heard more than their share of cruel whispers: “She’s barren. She’s cursed.” Society didn’t waste any time pointing fingers at my mom, as if my dad had no role in the process at all. (Classic, isn’t it?)     But my parents, stubborn believers in  the  higher power, didn’t give up. They studied  garbhasanskaar , the ancient practice of prenatal education, and decided to lean into the wisdom of our ancestors...

Disclaimer Before you dive into this blog, let me share something important. Everything I’ve written here is based on my beliefs, observations, and the little knowledge I’ve gathered so far. I don’t intend to offend or challenge anyone’s deeply-held beliefs, especially since I know some of you reading this have far more life experience than I do. My goal isn’t to debate but to offer a perspective. All I ask is that you read this with an open heart and mind—whether you agree or not is entirely up to you. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I’m 18 now, and for the first time, I’m starting to feel the pressure building around me. My friends have started asking me to join in on New Year's celebrations—those parties with food, drinks, and all the excitement. It’s funny because I’ve never really been one to get caught up in that kind of thing, but this year... something feels different. It’s like...

Guys, you know… my sweet, loving, always-there-for-me mom has turned into… um, let’s call her  The Storm Queen . I swear I’m not exaggerating. One day, she’s raining emotions; the next, she’s a blazing fire; occasionally, she’s just a quiet, cloudy sky. It hit me this morning when I realised that my mom has been going through something huge, and I’ve been totally clueless.  At first, I was confused—actually, scratch that—I was overwhelmed. At first, I thought, What’s going on with her? But honestly, my reaction wasn’t great. If she snapped at me, I snapped back. If she got upset, I’d distance myself. It wasn’t that I didn’t love her—it was just hard.   The Rock and the Rift Since I was a kid, I’ve seen my parents as this perfect, unshakable team. They were that cliched couple who completed each other’s sentences (or, in my parent’s case, did each other’s work). But suddenly, I started noticing cracks in their dynamic. Tiny arguments became a little more ser...

In 2018, I was experiencing a major upgrade in life. I would become a twice-born, someone who had been given the upanayana, the sacred thread.   At that time, my reasons for getting the  Janeu  were relatively tiny. It felt like my kind of fancy accessory—something I could flaunt and say, “Hey, look at me! I follow the oldest, deepest, and most profound school of thought—the Vedic philosophy.”     > To me, the  Upanayan Sanskaar  was like a golden ticket. It meant I could finally study the Vedas, a dream I had nurtured since childhood. It was also a way to show everyone I believed in my culture, roots, and every little ritual—even if they seemed “uncommon” or “orthodox” to others.  > More than anything, I wanted to feel  Brahm —that eternal truth, the consciousness our rishis have written about with such vividness. I wanted to touch that wisdom, experience the formless, and reach heights in life itself.    I was read...

For the past couple of days, I’ve been reading about the development of psychological thought. Today, I woke up with a question about happiness—a question that both you and I know is necessary to find the deeper meaning of life.  The question is this: on one hand, Buddhism and many philosophers say you can be happy with what you have. Happiness isn’t something you chase after; it comes to you when you realise it. However, psychologists like Daniel Gilbert suggest that to escape reality, we “create” synthetic happiness. It’s easy at first, but over time, it can lead to emotional and mental burnout.   And now I’m stuck.   I truly believe I’m a happy person. But what if I’m not inherently happy? What if, somewhere deep down, all my happiness is just a synthetic construct to help me escape the reality of my life?   Honestly, I couldn’t get this thought out of my head. Slowly, other doubts started creeping in too.     What if all I do is a li...

  A young 15-year-old girl came to me one day and said, “Mitra, you know, I think I am unlucky. Everything I try to do gets stuck somewhere or another. I tried to start helping my mom with her business, and suddenly, due to some problem with local norms, she had to shut it down. Then, another time, I wanted to help my friend with his project, and he fell sick right before his project presentation. I can’t help but think that every time I try to help somebody, I bring bad luck with me.”     After a quick pause, she added, “I think something is wrong with me. It is either my karma, or I’m cursed. But something is wrong for sure.”   During our conversation, I tried to dig a little deeper and understand what went behind this thought. To my horror and astonishment, her belief—that she was cursed—was deep inside her. It was almost like her identity.   Somewhere down that conversation, I realised I still couldn’t determine the trigger for this conditioning. U...

The new year is around the corner, and you know what that means—resolution season! It’s almost like a ritual now. New year, new me, right? January 1st rolls in, and we’re pumped. “This year, I’ll hit the gym every day, eat clean, and finally finish the book I’ve been putting off.”     Sounds great, na? But then life happens. By the time February says hello, we’re back to binge-watching, snacking at odd hours, and telling ourselves, “Next Monday, pakka!”   Why does this happen?   Because most of the time, our resolutions are more like wishful thinking than actual plans. It’s like saying, “I’ll climb Mount Everest,” when you haven’t even climbed the stairs without panting.   Ambitious? Yes. Realistic? Uh, no.     The Identity Twist Here’s something we don’t think about enough: Resolutions fail because they’re about  what we want to do , not  who we want to be .   For example, saying “I want to lose weight” is one t...

I started noticing this pattern in my life—and maybe you’ve seen it in yours too. The idea that “fun” or “connection” is reserved for the night. The late-night dinners, the midnight snacks, and the parties that stretch into the early hours have become routine, almost like a ritual. We have somehow conditioned ourselves to believe that the best time to celebrate, bond, or network is when the sun is long gone. While we live our weekday lives as early risers—striving to wake up at 5 or 6 a.m. to stay productive—the weekends become a free pass. Suddenly, we’re okay with staying up till 2 a.m., convincing ourselves that sleeping in on Saturday will “balance it out.”    But will it really? Our bodies thrive on consistency. They  aren’t designed to handle the erratic shifts we impose on them. Staying up late and waking up late on weekends might feel harmless in the moment, but over time, it disrupts our circadian rhythm—the internal clock that regulates sleep, energy, and e...

Imagine a piggy bank. Every kind word, every shared laugh, every moment spent together—it all adds up like coins in that bank. Over time, you create something precious: an   emotional asset .     This “asset” isn’t about spoiling your child or giving in to every whim. It’s about building a connection so strong that when the teenage storms hit—and they will—you have the strength to weather them together.   Teenage years can be tricky. Your once-adorable child might suddenly turn into someone who questions every rule and tests every boundary. They might demand things you know aren’t good for them. They might resist restrictions. And that’s when you’ll need to spend from your  emotional asset .   Honestly, saying no to a teen isn’t easy. When the relationship is weak, even a simple boundary can feel like a battleground. But when you’ve invested in their emotional bank, they’ll know—deep down—that your love and guidance come from a place of trust, not...