Wings2Fly

  We love and care with open hearts, Expecting echoes, gentle starts. But life has ways we can’t define, It bends, it curves—its own design. The hands we hold may slip away, The words we speak may fade someday. Yet kindness sown in silent ground, Will bloom again, though not around. The care you offered, the prayers you whispered, the small good you did when no one saw — none of it is lost. They travel quietly, finding their own roads to reach you again. So give your warmth, your soul, your smile, Without a thought, without a trial. For what you give will find its track, Through unknown paths, it circles back.   Not always from the ones you knew, But from new hearts, in skies of blue. Love never leaves—it only grows, In unseen ways, it always flows. Daya Nair🫶

  Last night, as I journeyed alone, Through silent roads and shadows grown, I felt a presence by my side— No voice, no steps, yet none to hide. A glance, a spark, a moment shared, We didn’t speak, but somehow cared. He matched my pace, not rushing through, As if he knew what I’d been through. No questions asked, no need to prove, Just silent comfort in the groove. We spoke in glances, hearts aligned, Two strangers bound without a sign. And isn’t that what friendship means? Not noise, not crowds, not crowded scene's But someone who, when nights feel long, Just walks with you and keeps you strong. There are some who cross your way With motives masked in what they say. No fights, no fuss, just let them go, No guilt, no tears, just ‘now I know.’ But then, there are the sacred few, Who simply stay and carry you. We don’t need many, just that one Who holds your hand when strength is gone. And when I reached where roads did bend, He slowly drifted, like the ...

  A journey I took with my wandering mind, To a place in time I longed to find. Not a palace, nor a far-off shore, But a space of love I’d lived before. The walls were plain, the roof was low, Yet joy would bloom in every glow. It wasn’t grand, yet felt so wide— The world we had with parents beside. They held the sky, they lit the way, Though we thought they simply stayed. For us, that time was heaven’s song, A place where hearts forever belong. And now, I wear a cloak of grace, In motherhood’s warm, tender embrace. Two lovely hands, two shining eyes— My superheroes in a world of sighs. With them, I feel the safest place, In every hug, a soft embrace. The past was gold, the now is too— Because of love, both old and new. So when I drift through time again, I smile at both the now and then. For childhood’s light and motherhood’s glow Are the only homes I’ll ever know. Daya Nair🫶

  In a world driven by meetings,Concalls, mails, and noise, Where names flash by and the loudest voice Often gets the floor—we sometimes forget That some souls lead by simply being. Arun was one of them. Not the one at the mic, not the one up front, But the one who made sure things worked. Programs ran smoother because he was there. Behind the screens, behind the calls, Behind the scenes—yet part of it all. Many of us never shared a coffee with him, Never stood beside him in office corridors. He was at Trivandrum, some of us far Central and north, But the region—yes, this big, sprawling region— Had his quiet fingerprints everywhere. We live in times where people say “Everyone is busy in their own world.” But when Arun fell silent, We saw how false that is. We felt the shift. The whole system stumbled for a moment, And grief didn’t just stay with his family— It seeped through our teams, Across districts, branches, clusters. The prayers weren’t just for him. They were for what we wer...