LITTLE MISCHIEVOUS RASCAL (IN MY EAR)

Sometimes, life gives us little companions we never asked for —-> like tinnitus, which I now affectionately call my “little rascal.” (little R) 

Mine started back in 2019, after a few swimming lessons. The pool, the water pressure and all that ear exposure seemed to awaken it. At first, it was faint, almost playful and easy to ignore. Over time, it became a quiet presence, usually noticeable in still, silent moments.

Today, as I woke up, little R was already awake, gently nudging, reminding me of its presence. The timing was curious, but familiar. That’s the nature of this tiny companion i.e it appears when the world is still, when the mind is quiet and when I least expect it.

For me, this little rascal is mostly mild. It can appear faintly on one side, shift slightly but the secret is…it’s mostly in the brain’s perception, not a warning sign.

The key is habituation; learning to acknowledge it without giving it power.

Here’s what I’ve learned:

Selective engagement works wonders

* When I’m teaching, moving, laughing or fully engaged, little R fades into the background.

Quiet moments amplify awareness

* That’s normal. In stillness, the brain notices subtle internal sounds more.

Gentle observation is key

* Do not over-manipulate. Attempting to blow, press or check repeatedly only makes it more noticeable. (I did blow to release and one ear got blocked and it took awhile to be back to normal). Gentle swallowing, movement or chewing (yes, even celery!) helps naturally.

* Simply noticing that it exists without labeling it as bad or dangerous, lets the nervous system stay calm.

Honestly, little R is a funny companion. Sometimes it sneaks up during silence, sometimes it takes a nap during busy, joyful moments. Treating it lightly even joking about it, is the best approach. Humor + calm attention = less stress = less perception.

Tips from my experience:

1. Engage fully in life;  teaching, socializing, moving and little R fades naturally.

2. Avoid repeated testing or forcing attention.

3. Use small, gentle techniques eg. chew, swallow, yawn or gently move your jaw.

4. Remember, it’s just sound. It does not define you.

If you’ve ever experienced persistent ringing or buzzing in your ears, you’re not alone. Many people have a “little rascal” in their ear. The good news is, it’s rarely harmful and the more you live fully and intentionally, the less it controls your experience.

For me, little R is now a quiet background note, part of the symphony of life, noticeable only if I choose to tune in. 

And honestly? That’s fine by me.

This morning, as little R was already awake the moment I opened my eyes, I simply smiled. Life goes on and so does the buzz. 

I choose selective hearing. 

SULLIVAN’s CROSSING (NETFLIX)

When Fiction Feels SO Real

Sometimes a TV show hits harder than life itself. 

I just finished all three seasons of Sullivan’s Crossing and I can honestly say… I cried. Loudly. Like, sobbing-so-loud-I-could-hear-myself kind of cried.

Edna’s storyline was especially heart-wrenching. When she finally agreed to surgery, it felt like my heart might stop. 

She only wanted Maggie to do it and Maggie’s license had been suspended while away in New York. Somehow, the hospital made it happen and Maggie performed the surgery. 

Watching Edna’s vulnerability, her love and her fear before the operation was gut-wrenching.

It wasn’t just the plot…it was the actors. Everyone played their part so beautifully that I felt the pain, hope and relief as if it were happening to someone I actually knew. I cried like I lost someone I loved and yes… I could hear my own sobs echoing.

But here’s the bittersweet part…she was saved. And as the season ended, I felt that mix of exhaustion and awe; exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster, awed by the storytelling and performances that made me feel so deeply.

What I realized is this…great storytelling isn’t just plot twists or drama. It’s capturing the human experience. It reminds us to be compassionate, to feel deeply and to appreciate quiet heroism in everyday life.

Sullivan’s Crossing left me drained, emotional and yet grateful. And as I wait for the next season, I carry with me a renewed appreciation for empathy, patience and the stories that make us cry…and remind us we’re truly alive.

YOGA STUDIO GATHERING

Celebrating Wins…

Recently, I attended a special gathering at the yoga studio I teach…the prize-giving for participants who completed the 30-days yoga challenge. The energy was light, celebratory and full of little human moments that warmed my heart.

The challengers and everyone who were present were smiling, exchanging stories and cheering each other on. 

I especially loved seeing how consistency, even in small daily practices creates a sense of accomplishment and community.

The atmosphere was fun, supportive and full of laughter. Even quiet moments, just observing others share their experiences, made me reflect on the beauty of collective effort.

It reminded me that yoga isn’t just about poses…it’s about connection, progress and celebrating each step of the journey. 

Whether a big milestone or a tiny improvement, recognition, encouragement and shared joy…they all amplify our growth.

Takeaway? Celebrate wins, support others and never underestimate the power of community to inspire and uplift.

Sharing a picture of my student and I after one of our yoga sessions - just for the fun! 

CREDIT CARD DRAMA

When Your Credit Card Decides to Cause Drama

Sometimes, life sends little reminders that even everyday things deserve attention. 

Recently, my bank flagged a small USD charge as suspicious. My card was temporarily deactivated and I had to call the credit card center to resolve it.

At first, I was surprised what triggered the alert? After checking, it turned out to be a small fraudulent charge; a common “test” amount that scammers often try first.

The bank was quick to act and I now have a plan to cancel the old card and get a replacement. My two active subscriptions will be updated and my finances remain secure.

What struck me most wasn’t the inconvenience. It was how calmly everything was handled; by the bank and by me. No panic. No stress. Just verification, action and moving forward.

Takeaway? Life sometimes throws minor curveballs. How we respond…calmly, mindfully and with practical action, makes all the difference. 

MY THROBBING KNEE & THE MRI ADVENTURE

Some days, your body decides to teach you a lesson. 

Recently, my right knee started acting up; sharp pain, locking and general grumbling I could no longer ignore. After a few gentle stretches, I realized this was not something to brush off.

I went straight to my orthopaedic, who ordered an MRI. The MRI experience itself deserves a story; cold room, loud machines and the quiet buzz 

of the unknown. I found myself silently praying to my mom, dad and sisters (who apparently have a magic wand) and when I walked out of the MRI, 

the pain had eased.

The results were informative but manageable:-

Tear of the posterior horn of the medial meniscus

Lateral collateral and popliteus ligament strain

Mild cartilage injury under the kneecap

Early degenerative changes

The doctor then advised physiotherapy, rest and gentle knee management. No surgery and importantly, I can continue teaching yoga with care.

Takeaway? Listening to your body, taking early action and responding with humor and mindfulness makes all the difference. 

Small injuries don’t define you; your choices do! And yes… a little prayer to the family magic wand doesn’t hurt either! 😊✨🪄

YOGA, OILS & CHAPATI

Yoga, Oils & Chapati: A Full-Circle Day

After my Yin & Yang yoga this morning, I already felt like my body had woken up in full orchestra mode;  slow stretches, deep breaths and knees cooperating like little champions.

Fast forward to the afternoon and I was at Health & Beyond (Treatment & Wellness) for an Ayurveda massage, a thoughtful treat from my boss. My therapist, Anu Priya from Kerala, has over 10 years of experience and wow… her hands were magic! 

We started with warm oil on my head and neck while I sat on the chair. Pure bliss. Then came the calf massage, the very spot that cramped a few days ago decided to remind me it exists. 😅

But Anu’s oil pack technique worked wonders, the cramp calmed down and my left back tension melted away. By the end, my body was floating.

Then… hunger pangs hit. I had only had breakfast and my metabolism was doing cartwheels. So naturally, I landed at Tasty Chapati at The Curve; a cozy North Indian spot that smells like heaven. 

I ordered chapati with chicken varuval and dhall. The first two chapati pieces were tiny, so naturally, I had to get more. 

Sharing their Instagram profile: https://www.instagram.com/tastychapathirestaurant?igsh=MW9xc3lzaHhiZTRqbQ==

I started mindfully, savoring each bite like a true yoga practitioner. But then… surrendered. Full “tear-and-dip mode” activated 😂. By the end, I was fully satisfied and even packed the last chapati and  dhall for later;  smart post-feast planning, if I do say so myself.😊

The day reminded me how nourishment comes in many forms; the stretch and strength from yoga, the healing touch of a skilled massage therapist and the comfort of flavorful food shared with intention (even if it’s just with myself).

For anyone curious, check out Health & Beyond on Instagram for more details: @healthandbeyond.official

A day like today is a little full-circle gift; for body, mind and appetite alike.

AN ORDINARY DAY, HELD GENTLY

Today didn’t look like much on the outside.

A short trip to mom’s place.

A little sweeping.

Car rides. Stairs.

A fan that needed fixing.

A pot of chicken soup left to simmer.

And yet, my heart keeps circling back to it.

It was at my mom’s  place that my knee began to speak; a sharp, insistent reminder each time I got in and out of the car, each step up the stairs. 

Nothing alarming, just clear. 

A body asking to be listened to. 

I smiled to myself, remembering how my mom used to tease me about my low pain tolerance. A “2” for most people easily becomes a “10” for me. Pain be it physical or emotional, has always reached me quickly. So does grief.

But maybe that sensitivity isn’t weakness. Maybe it’s honesty.

Looking back now, I realise how my day quietly unfolded around care.

So, as I was at mom’s home, I cleared a little space. I brought something familiar back with me; the table fan I’d been using there. And so, I cleaned it, dismantled it, put it back together and let it spin again.

And then, without much thought, I made chicken soup. Not the rushed kind. The kind that simmers.

A drumstick. Onions, garlic, ginger.

Red dates, black raisins, wolfberries.

Potatoes. Pink salt.

And because the soul asked for it, a splash of red wine.

As it bubbled quietly on the stove, something softened in me.

Only later did I understand that this wasn’t a productive day. It was a tending day! 

To memory. To the body. To grief that doesn’t always announce itself loudly. To the part of me that still knows how to soothe without words.

There are days when healing looks like effort and strength. And there are days when healing looks like soup, a working fan and listening when the knee says “enough.”

Today was the latter. And that was more than enough.

It makes me think louder that just like in yoga, sometimes the most important practice is showing up gently, listening and allowing space; for the body, the heart and the soul.