Maha Being Her

নেশার প্রাথমিক স্তর চা, সর্বোচ্চ স্তর শাড়ি ❤️

The healer has the bloodiest hands-
not because they hurt people,
but because they are always
the first to touch
what everyone else is afraid to hold.

They become fluent
in the silences of others,
learn when a smile is only
a door being kept shut,
when "I'm fine"
means please don't leave yet.

They carry people home
from places they never entered,
sit beside storms
they were never invited into,
and keep the light on
until someone remembers
how to find their way back.

Nobody asks
what happens to the person
who keeps everyone from falling.

So they become good
at disappearing quietly-
leaving pieces of themselves
in every life they steady.

And when the last person
finally learns to stand alone,
the healer looks around
at all the lives they helped save-
and realises
they have spent so long
being somewhere for everyone
that they no longer know
where they belong.

That is why
the healer has the bloodiest hands-
not from what they destroyed,
but from everything
they carried
until there was nothing left
if them to carry.

✍️ - Collected

And on a certain night, you’ll feel so lost and unbearably sad, longing for somewhere to belong—

but there will be no one to run to,
no shoulder to lean on,
No safe place waiting for you.
Just you, alone with the ache of everything you’ve been carrying...

~ Maha.

In another life, I don’t want to be a girl.
I don’t want to be born into a family
I spent my whole life dreaming of escaping from.

In another life, I want to know what it feels like to be safe—
to have a home that feels like peace,
to have a shelter I can run to
at any hour, in any situation, under any circumstance,
without fear, without hesitation,
knowing there will always be a place for me.

I want to be loved so deeply
that I never have to wonder if I am worthy of it.

In another life, I want to be nonchalant, chaotic, funny, and loud—
the kind of person everyone notices,
the kind whose silence makes people wonder,
“Are you okay?”

In another life, I want to be free.
Free enough to disappear into the woods,
to run toward the ocean,
to follow the wind wherever it takes me,
without having to ask anyone for permission to exist.

In another life,
I don’t want someone else deciding
what I should do,
where I can go,
what I can wear,
or how loudly I am allowed to live.

I don’t want to be told to be quiet
just because my laughter was too loud,
or because I was too happy,
too excited,
too alive.

In another life,
I don’t want to be the firstborn daughter
who learns to accept everything in silence,
who understands everyone’s pain
but never knows where to put her own.

I don’t want to be the mature, understanding, “good girl”
who never asks for too much,
never cries too loudly,
never screams for the things she desperately wants,
and slowly learns to believe
that wanting anything at all is selfish.

In another life,
I don’t want to hide what I need
because asking for it feels like a crime.

I don’t want my sadness to be something I have to defend.
I don’t want to be judged
simply because I cried,
simply because sometimes
I couldn’t pretend to be okay.

In another life,
I want to be beautiful enough
that my father never looks at me with worry,
never fears that his daughter is not beautiful enough
for the world to cherish her,
or that no one will ever choose to love her.

And in another life,
I wish there is someone who finds me
and stays.

Someone who loves me gently,
cares for every little piece of me,
adores the parts I was taught to hide,
and holds my heart so carefully
that all the sorrows I carried for years
finally disappear like smoke into the night.

In another life,
I don’t want to spend my whole life wishing for another one.

I just want a place to run to.
A place that feels like home.
A place where I can fall apart
without being ashamed of my tears.

I just want to be free.
I just want to be loved.
I just want to feel safe enough
to finally be myself.

✍️- Maha

Lost 🧩

Elizabeth saw a man. The world saw a monster. Perhaps that is the difference between love and judgment.... 🍁

to be free....

I was lonely for so long, and just when I got a glimpse of something beautiful, it disappeared....

Dear Milena,

I wish the world were ending tomorrow. Then I could take the next train, arrive at your doorstep in Vienna, and say: "Come with me, Milena. We are going to love each other without scruples or fear or restraint. Because the world is ending tomorrow." Perhaps we don't love unreasonably because we think we have time, or have to reckon with time. But what if we don't have time? Or what if time, as we know it, is irrelevant? Ah, if only the world were ending tomorrow. We could help each other very much.

— Kafka

It doesn't matter if you're the most beautiful shade of blue if their favorite color is red ...