Beloved Sri Devi,

Each time you look back at your life, you can still feel that tug-of-war inside you: one side desperate for approval, and the other not giving a zilch about it.

Back then, someone (you know who) had filled your head with this notion:

• a good daughter is one who makes her parents happy.
• a good daughter-in-law is one who makes her in-laws happy.
• a good wife or mother is one who makes her family happy.

Hard to believe you actually bought into it. You tried to fit yourself into that mold, measuring your worth by other people’s approval. But by divine grace, one day you snapped out of it and saw the truth — what garbage advice it was!

Because how could it ever work? No matter how hard you tried, you could never make anyone happy. Happiness doesn’t come from you; it has to rise from within them. The grumpy will stay grumpy, and the cheerful don’t need a reason to smile.

Be glad you trashed that belief. For whatever it’s worth, you have a life too — and you need to live it true to your own heart. Of course, the chatter began the moment you chose your own way. And so you wrote these lines — your answer to it all.

Call me weird, 
Call me wasted, 
Call me whatever. 
How does it matter 
What they chatter? 
They, who suffer the dearth 
Of their self-worth.

Call me vain, 
Call me insane, 
Call me whatever. 
How does it matter 
What they chatter? 
They, whose lives are a bane 
That snap in strain.

Call me smart, 
Call me an art, 
Call me whatever. 
How does it matter 
What they chatter? 
They, who in tittle-tattle 
Cover up their inner rattle.

Call me a ghoul, 
Call me an angel, 
Call me whatever. 
How does it matter 
What they chatter? 
They, whose hearts don’t care
And hands can’t wipe a tear.

Love,
Self