Auteur Obscure

What was once in my quiet frame of mind
now resides in my X Highlights. I could have been an Artist, a Poet & so much more, but now I am just a plain Jane Doe.

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

I wish we would exchange one word prompts to write about. My desire for us is to unravel ourselves slowly through our writings/conversations without ever talking about us.

So please send me a prompt and a piece of you wrapped up in pretty words.

#letterstovoid

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@jopriyu267 @jasveer10 @OKAYASYOUSEE Same here. It would have been a hassle to change my name, my daughter has her father’s last name & I am fine with it. He is a Hindu, I am Sikh. it does raise eyebrows sometimes when I am traveling alone with her in the west but they see her face, then mine and nod us along.

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@jopriyu267 Absolutely!

But having said that, not everyone experiences parenthood with same depth. There are so many couples around me that I wish had refrained from having kids. Being a parent is a responsibility for life and only those who really wish for it should embrace it.

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@jopriyu I thought I was the only one who ate salted rice with milk.

I like hot jeera rice with cold milk. Best meal ever.

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@iGreenGod Wishing you a faster recovery! 🙏🏽

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@parrysingh @bainjal When people ask where can i get good Indian food here, I always say, my kitchen. Restaurants in Europe make you want to skip Indian food.

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@parrysingh I always preferred Top ramen.

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@ParveenKaswan

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@RandeepHooda @nytcrawler0987 This audio clip made my day! So cute!

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@sagar7887 @grok Here let me try it for you.

@grok please check international news channels and share current update of Iran israel and usa war considering trumps threat to Iran for 48 hrs

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@Lovandfear Sandalwood.

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@CardilloSamuel @marci_shore Oh please!

Get off of your high horse and look around the mess you guys have made liberating the world in last 50 years. You can’t keep your own kids safe in their schools and you want to rescue the world.

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@jopriyu Bolo bolo tell tell!

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@iGreenGod क्या कहने! दिल को छू भी गया और भेद भी गया! 👏🏽

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@rdchanchad

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

Amor Fati: Loving What Cannot Be Changed

There are phrases that arrive in the mind like quiet intruders. They sound simple at first, almost ornamental. Yet they refuse to leave once they have settled. Amor fati is one such phrase. Literally “love of fate,” it carries centuries of weight: echoes of Stoic acceptance filtered through the fierce affirmation of Friedrich Nietzsche. But for anyone who has lived long enough to accumulate real scars, the words do not land as poetry. They land as a demand.

Nietzsche gave the phrase its sharpest edge. In Ecce Homo he wrote: “My formula for human greatness is amor fati: that one wants nothing to be different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity. Not merely bear what is necessary, still less conceal it. All idealism is mendacity in the face of what is necessary, but love it.” He was not asking for passive resignation. He wanted something more dangerous: an active, enthusiastic yes to the entire fabric of one’s life, including the threads that cut.

Most of us never reach that extremity. We hover somewhere in the middle ground, where acceptance and wishful thinking coexist uneasily. We can look at the misfortunes that shaped us and say, with a certain exhausted clarity, that they made us who we are. We may even feel a quiet pride in having refused to let them turn us cruel or broken. Yet the leap from “this happened and I survived it” to “I love that it happened exactly as it did” often feels dishonest, or simply beyond our reach on the days when the heart feels heavy and the future looks thin.

I have watched this tension play out in my own reflections. There is no nostalgia for the events themselves. They recede, almost forgotten in their raw form. What remains is the person who emerged: flawed, inconsistent at times, prone to disorientation when connection fades, yet still standing. The choice was made, again and again, not to pass on the pain, not to become the reflection that inflicts what it once endured. That choice feels meaningful. It feels like agency. But it does not erase the quieter wish that life could have been kinder, that the same strength might have been forged with less fire.

The almosts complicate it further. Connections that mirror the soul in every dimension except the one that would make them mutual. Intellectual companionships that light up long-unlit corners, only to withdraw without effort or future. Each instance erodes something. Without drama, but steadily like water wearing stone. In those moments amor fati can feel almost mocking, a lofty ideal that asks you to love the pattern of being deeply seen yet ultimately unchosen. The hope that surfaces instead is more modest: perhaps these repetitions are teaching the difficult art of solitude, so that one day presence, if it comes, can be met without desperation. It is a thin hope, often overshadowed by depression and the impulse to run somewhere new, only to remember that the self travels with you.

Perhaps true greatness, if it exists, does not require loving every wound as if it were a gift. Perhaps it is enough to stop waging war against what is necessary, to look at the life that has been given, with its potential for something larger, its recurring loneliness, its stubborn refusal to turn bitter, and say, not with joy but with steadiness: this is the material I have. I will work with it. I will not let it make me smaller than I can be.

In the meantime, Amor fati remains an ideal on the horizon, like the Sun God himself in all its glory just before it sets, to return another day.

#quietframe

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

This too shall pass! So just survive the day, one breath at a time. Slowly breath will turn into minutes, then hours and soon the days will pass by and you will eventually find a way to move, even if with a limp, even if with a gapping hole in your chest… you will live. So for now just try breathing through it all.

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

Amor Fati: Loving What Cannot Be Changed

There are phrases that arrive in the mind like quiet intruders. They sound simple at first, almost ornamental. Yet they refuse to leave once they have settled. Amor fati is one such phrase. Literally “love of fate,” it carries centuries of weight: echoes of Stoic acceptance filtered through the fierce affirmation of Friedrich Nietzsche. But for anyone who has lived long enough to accumulate real scars, the words do not land as poetry. They land as a demand.

Nietzsche gave the phrase its sharpest edge. In Ecce Homo he wrote: “My formula for human greatness is amor fati: that one wants nothing to be different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity. Not merely bear what is necessary, still less conceal it. All idealism is mendacity in the face of what is necessary, but love it.” He was not asking for passive resignation. He wanted something more dangerous: an active, enthusiastic yes to the entire fabric of one’s life, including the threads that cut.

Most of us never reach that extremity. We hover somewhere in the middle ground, where acceptance and wishful thinking coexist uneasily. We can look at the misfortunes that shaped us and say, with a certain exhausted clarity, that they made us who we are. We may even feel a quiet pride in having refused to let them turn us cruel or broken. Yet the leap from “this happened and I survived it” to “I love that it happened exactly as it did” often feels dishonest, or simply beyond our reach on the days when the heart feels heavy and the future looks thin.

I have watched this tension play out in my own reflections. There is no nostalgia for the events themselves. They recede, almost forgotten in their raw form. What remains is the person who emerged: flawed, inconsistent at times, prone to disorientation when connection fades, yet still standing. The choice was made, again and again, not to pass on the pain, not to become the reflection that inflicts what it once endured. That choice feels meaningful. It feels like agency. But it does not erase the quieter wish that life could have been kinder, that the same strength might have been forged with less fire.

The almosts complicate it further. Connections that mirror the soul in every dimension except the one that would make them mutual. Intellectual companionships that light up long-unlit corners, only to withdraw without effort or future. Each instance erodes something. Without drama, but steadily like water wearing stone. In those moments amor fati can feel almost mocking, a lofty ideal that asks you to love the pattern of being deeply seen yet ultimately unchosen. The hope that surfaces instead is more modest: perhaps these repetitions are teaching the difficult art of solitude, so that one day presence, if it comes, can be met without desperation. It is a thin hope, often overshadowed by depression and the impulse to run somewhere new, only to remember that the self travels with you.

Perhaps true greatness, if it exists, does not require loving every wound as if it were a gift. Perhaps it is enough to stop waging war against what is necessary, to look at the life that has been given, with its potential for something larger, its recurring loneliness, its stubborn refusal to turn bitter, and say, not with joy but with steadiness: this is the material I have. I will work with it. I will not let it make me smaller than I can be.

In the meantime, Amor fati remains an ideal on the horizon, like the Sun God himself in all its glory just before it sets, to return another day.

#quietframe

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@jasveer10 @potterly_head In copying west we forget that architecture needs to be in sync with the local climate, slanted roofs are for areas where snow falls. It helps in ensuring that roofs don’t collapse under snow’s weight. I don’t remember the last time Gurgaon had a heavy snow fall.

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@VatsMusings Thank you for sharing this.

[Auteur Obscure @Quietframe]

@WisdomLifeHack Why?