From Dust to Stars
Bio
From struggle to starlight — I write for the soul.
Through words, I trace the quiet power of growth, healing, and becoming.
Here you'll find reflections that rise from the dust — raw, honest, and full of light.
Stories (45)
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The Weight of a Dream
I remember the first time I heard someone say, “Your goals don’t work unless you do.” I was 17, and I thought it sounded like just another motivational quote you scroll past on Instagram. You know, the kind of thing that looks good in cursive over a stock photo of a sunrise. I didn’t think much of it then.
By From Dust to Stars7 months ago in Motivation
Your Future, Your Rules: Take Control of Your Life
I used to think life happened to me. That sounds passive because it was. I let the days blur together like watercolor, soft and pretty on the outside, but completely out of my control. I wasn’t unhappy, but I wasn’t alive either. I went where I was told, did what was expected, smiled when necessary, and numbed myself with distractions when it wasn’t.
By From Dust to Stars7 months ago in Motivation
More Life, More Joy
It happened on a quiet Tuesday morning. I was sipping lukewarm coffee, scrolling mindlessly through social media, when I stumbled across an old photo of myself. It was from five years ago, taken during a family trip to the mountains. I didn’t look particularly glamorous or even overly happy in that photo—but I looked alive. My eyes were brighter. My shoulders weren’t hunched. I wasn’t weighed down by stress, fatigue, or the dull ache of burnout.
By From Dust to Stars7 months ago in Longevity
The Greenhouse Effect: A Threat to Our Planet
I remember the first time I heard the term “greenhouse effect.” I was twelve, sitting cross-legged in my grandmother’s backyard garden. It was a warm spring afternoon. Bees hovered lazily over the lavender bushes, and the scent of tomatoes ripening on the vine lingered in the air.
By From Dust to Stars7 months ago in Earth
Invisible No More: Honoring Widows on International Widows Day
On a dusty morning in a small village in northern India, Mary rose before the sun. She tied her grey shawl tightly around her thin frame, walked to the well, and returned with water to wash the clothes she took in from wealthier neighbors. It was her only income. Her husband, Robert, had died six years ago in a road accident. Since then, she’d worn only white, eaten last at every gathering, and lived on the edge of her community — not by choice, but by tradition.
By From Dust to Stars7 months ago in Humans
US–Iran Standoff: Can Diplomacy Prevail?
The smell of fresh bread lingered in the Tehran air as Roya stepped out of the bakery, her young son tugging on her scarf and asking if America was going to bomb them. She paused, unsure of how to answer. Thousands of miles away in Washington D.C., Daniel, a U.S. Navy veteran, sipped his coffee as he read headlines warning of a possible escalation in the Persian Gulf. He shook his head and muttered, “Not again.”
By From Dust to Stars7 months ago in The Swamp
From Big Bang to Billions
From Big Bang to Billions There was a moment—one singular, deafening moment—when everything collapsed. For Arjun Mehta, that moment came in a dimly lit one-bedroom apartment in New Jersey, with eviction papers taped to the front door, $32 in his bank account, and a silence so heavy it made the walls feel like they were closing in.
By From Dust to Stars7 months ago in Motivation
Love Knows No Bounds
If someone had told Priya five years ago that love would find her not in the familiar chaos of Mumbai’s crowded local trains, but in the silent corridors of a refugee support center in Berlin, she would’ve laughed. A practical woman, raised by a single mother who taught English literature and never once missed a day of work, Priya had always believed that love was something that came second to career, independence, and self-worth.
By From Dust to Stars7 months ago in Humans
The Woman Who Shaped Me: A Tribute to Mom
I grew up in a modest two-bedroom house on the edge of a small town. It wasn’t the kind of place you'd see in a magazine—our linoleum floors peeled at the corners, the paint on the porch chipped every year a little more—but it was home. It was also the kingdom of the strongest woman I’ve ever known: my mother.
By From Dust to Stars7 months ago in Humans
The Last Warning: Will You Listen?
I never thought the voice of a stranger would echo louder than the ones I loved. It started on a rainy Thursday, the kind that presses on your chest and makes everything feel heavier. I was sitting in traffic, coffee in one hand, my phone in the other — scrolling, texting, planning — the usual. That’s when I saw him.
By From Dust to Stars7 months ago in Humans
