My Siblings, My Soul: The Journey That Changed Everything
Some bonds are woven not just in blood, but in spirit. They are designed by the Universe — delicate, profound, eternal. But even the most sacred threads can fray when the storms of life pass through. Healing them isn’t about fixing the past… it’s about remembering the love that was always there, waiting to be seen again
I was born into a world where love wasn't just spoken about — it was lived.
My earliest memories are filled with laughter echoing through the house, endless games under the soft Dehradun sun, and the unspoken comfort of knowing that my two brothers and my sister, my Gudia, were my whole universe. We were a middle-class family by worldly standards, but rich — unimaginably rich — in what mattered most: connection, care, belonging.
As a protective elder brother, I was a fierce guardian of our togetherness. I wasn't just their brother; in many ways, I felt like their second parent, their shield, their cheerleader. I dreamed of a future where I'd lift them all onto a stage of prosperity, joy, and freedom. I wasn't driven by ambition for myself. I was driven by the dream of seeing them shine.
But life, in its complexity, often writes scripts we never asked for.
It was at the intersection of marriage, family expectations, and tragedy that the cracks began to show. Misunderstandings that spiraled. Words spoken that couldn't be unsaid. Hearts that hardened when they most needed to stay soft. In defending what was right, I lost the ease of what once was. My father passed away shortly after my wedding. Pain turned into blame. Love turned into silence. And the bonds that once felt eternal began to fray.
For 22 years, I tried. I called. I texted. I showed up. But somewhere along the way, the once effortless connection became an uphill climb. Their silence wasn't just silence; it was an invisible wall built brick by brick over time.
And yet — through all the grief, anger, guilt, and confusion — one thing remained unchanged: my love for them. Love that didn't demand. Love that didn't expire.
Even when COVID took our grandfather, our mother, and our brother-in-law in the span of a month, even as new wounds reopened old ones, I kept holding the door open. I kept believing that love would find its way back home.
But healing, I realized, is not always about "getting them back." Healing is about coming back to yourself.
It was during this wilderness of pain that my lifelong spirituality deepened into something sacred. Meditation, writing, reflection — hour after hour, day after day, became my lifeline. I walked deeper into myself. I stopped seeing life as just physical forms and started seeing the energy behind everything. I saw my siblings not just as people, but as souls on their own sacred journeys.
Through past life regressions, I uncovered that this sibling pain was not new — it had echoed through many lifetimes, always calling me toward deeper understanding, deeper love.
And one day, it hit me with a force that left me weeping for hours: I was born to help heal this. Not just for myself, but for others carrying the same silent ache in their hearts.
Simplified Relations was not born from ambition. It was born from a calling.
Because here's what I know deep in my bones:
"The relationship you have with your siblings isn't measured by the past you remember; it's shaped by the present you create."
Healing is not about forcing anyone back into your life. It is about seeing them for who they have become — not who they were. It is about reconnecting with your own heart, your own soul, so deeply that even if their physical presence fades, the bond remains unbreakable.
If you are here, reading this, you already carry that hope in your heart. You already know — somewhere deep down — that your story doesn't have to end in silence and regret.
And it would be my greatest honor to walk alongside you, as you rediscover what was never truly lost: the love, the bond, the belonging.
Welcome to Simplified Relations. Here, your healing is sacred. Your journey is honored. And your story — just like mine — is still being written, with love.
“Healing isn’t a destination. It’s a quiet, sacred unfolding inside the heart — where love outgrows pain, where forgiveness outshines anger, and where the soul remembers that true connection never dies. No matter what life shows me, I will always choose love. And in that choice, I am already home.”
