love

A Small Stone Beside the Path

There are certain phrases that stay with us long after we first hear them. One such phrase I grew up around was simple and firm: “I forgive, but I do not forget.”

For years I thought it was a warning. Later I realised it was something else entirely.

The first time I truly encountered its meaning was early in my professional life. I had spent months helping a colleague deliver a difficult project. Long nights, small compromises, patient listening – things one does quietly because the work matters and the people matter. When the moment of recognition arrived, the story somehow travelled upward without my name attached to it.

For a few days I carried a silent resentment. Not loud anger, just a dull heaviness that followed me from meeting rooms to late evening drives back home.

And yet something curious happened with time. The resentment softened. The colleague did not change much, and the situation was never really corrected. But the bitterness slowly lost its edge. I could work with him again without the weight in my chest.

I had forgiven him.

But the forgetting never arrived.

2

When tomorrow steals today

I remember walking out of a seminar hall one evening with a notebook full of underlined sentences and arrows pointing to things I had promised myself I would begin the very next morning. The speaker had been brilliant. The room had that quiet electricity that comes when everyone feels they have glimpsed something important. I felt light, almost impatient to return home and start acting on the ideas I had scribbled down.

On the drive back, I replayed parts of the talk in my head. I imagined how different things might look if I simply followed through on even a few of those notes. The plan seemed so clear. Wake up earlier. Be deliberate with time. Work on the meaningful things first. One by one.

By the time I reached home, I had already mentally reorganised my life.

But tomorrow is another day in life.

Half the World

“Half of the world are women.
The other half are their children.”

It is such a simple thought, yet the more one reflects on it, the more quietly profound it becomes.

Every life begins in the care, patience, and quiet strength of a woman. Long before titles, professions, or accomplishments arrive, someone carried us into the world, nurtured our first fragile days, and stood silently behind our earliest steps. Even the strongest among us once arrived as someone’s child.

Perhaps that is why this line gently rearranges how we see humanity. The world is not merely divided by nations, power, or status. At its most fundamental level, it is held together by care, continuity, and the unseen labor of love.

Half the world carries the strength of women – creators of life, keepers of families, builders of communities, and steady anchors in moments of uncertainty. The other half carries their stories forward – children who grow, learn, stumble, rise again, and someday shape the world in ways yet unseen.

Seen this way, humanity feels less like a collection of individuals and more like a quiet chain of inheritance. Strength flowing into possibility. Wisdom flowing into hope. Generations leaning gently on those who came before.

And perhaps the line holds a soft reminder for all of us: no matter how accomplished we become, we remain part of that second half of the world – someone’s child, someone’s beginning, someone’s hope quietly taking shape.

On this International Women’s Day, may we pause with gratitude for the women who shaped our lives – mothers, daughters, sisters, partners, teachers, colleagues, and friends – whose presence often strengthens the world in ways that words rarely capture.

May their strength be celebrated, their voices respected, and their journeys supported – today and every day.