DR.R.V.PATHY AYURVEDA

There was a friend — Jaanu. To Janani, she was more than a classmate. She was someone worth breaking rules for, someone worth standing up to her parents for. When Jaanu needed help — during exams, during illness — Janani was always there. She cared, she showed up, she made time. But when Janani needed a friend, silence answered her. The same Jaanu who once promised to be together through thick and thin slowly stepped back, quietly, without explanation. Even when Janani’s parents said a big no to her outing, it turned into a yes because Jaanu was coming. That’s how much trust Janani had. Yet, when it came time to shift, Jaanu moved away — not just from the place, but from the friendship too. No words, no closure. Just distance. 💭 Psychological Reflection: Janani’s experience mirrors what many people go through — friendships that are conditional. When emotional labor flows only one way, it leads to attachment fatigue and self-blame. Such bonds teach people like Janani to suppress needs,...

🌑  After everything that happened with Ram, Leela, and Rishi — the blackmail, the threats, the pictures, the shame — everyone might wonder, “Why didn’t Janani just tell her parents?” But they didn’t know her story from the beginning. They didn’t know about 2017, when her phone was stolen, and she was accused of being a liar, a girl with “bad intentions.” They didn’t know how that moment scarred her trust forever. They didn’t see her father struggling with pain every night, and Janani silently massaging his legs, thinking, “I must not add more pain to this house.” They didn’t hear her mother’s sighs of worry, or her words that cut unknowingly deep — “Girls should be careful. People talk.” So when life threw her into darkness again — when Ram and Leela humiliated her, when Rishi turned away, when her name was dragged through lies — she swallowed it all. Not because she didn’t want help, but because she feared that help would come as blame. She thought, “If I tell them, they’ll stop ...

It was the year Janani’s voice began to fade. Her phone was stolen — a simple incident that could happen to anyone — but instead of concern, she was met with accusations. Her parents thought she had given it to a “boyfriend.” The phone wasn’t even hers — it was her sister’s. But that didn’t matter. That day, the focus wasn’t on her fear, but on her blame. They shouted. They slapped. And somewhere in that noise, a part of Janani’s spirit broke quietly. She thought, > “If they don’t believe me for this, how will they ever believe me for something bigger?” That question buried itself deep in her heart — and from then, Janani started carrying every pain alone. 🌫️ Her Father’s Illness – The Guilt That Silenced Her Since her 12th grade, Janani watched her father suffer from a chronic bone disease. She took care of him, supported her mother, and tried to stay strong — but that very responsibility became her emotional cage. She thought: > “I can’t make them worry more.” “If I tell them ...

🌙 Why Janani Didn’t Tell Her Parents Janani wasn’t silent because she was wrong — she was silent because she was scared that even those who loved her most would not understand her pain. Inside her mind were thoughts like: > “If they know, they’ll stop me from using my phone.” “They’ll say it’s my fault for talking to him.” “They’ll never let me study outside or travel alone again.” That fear of losing freedom and being judged instead of understood became heavier than the pain of being hurt online. So she chose silence — not out of guilt, but out of fear of misunderstanding. And this silence slowly started to eat her confidence. 🌼 What Parents Should Do (According to Psychology & Ayurveda Principles) 🫶 1. Listen First — Without Interruption or Blame When a child confides something painful, parents must listen like healers, not judges. Even if the mistake seems big, the moment is not for correction — it’s for connection. > In Ayurveda, a Vaidya first listens to the patient’s...

🛡️ 1. Stay Calm — Don’t Engage The first step is not to reply or react emotionally. Harassers want a reaction — anger, fear, or anxiety — because it gives them control. Silence and evidence are her real weapons. > “Don’t feed the fire; record where it burns.” 📸 2. Collect Evidence Take screenshots of every message, profile, and post. Save the username, date, and time clearly. If they change profile names, keep track of both old and new handles. These become powerful proof if she needs to file a legal or cyber complaint. ⚙️ 3. Report and Block Use Instagram’s “Report → Harassment or Bullying” feature. After reporting, block the profile immediately. Avoid checking back often — obsessive checking increases anxiety. (Janani can also adjust privacy settings to allow messages only from known people and limit story visibility.) ⚖️ 4. File a Cybercrime Report (Very Important) Visit the National Cyber Crime Reporting Portal: https://cybercrime.gov.in Or call the helpline number 1930 (India...

Janani sat by her window that night, her phone screen glowing in the dark. Another fake account. Another notification. Another reminder that her past refused to rest. She whispered to herself, > “Why are they still doing this? What do they even get out of this pain?” Her mind raced — were Ram and Leela trying to break her again? Were they afraid to see her happy, to see her moving on, to see her marriage talks going well? Was this their way of collapsing her peace — of proving that she could never escape them? Each fake message felt like a knife dipped in old memories. It wasn’t just harassment; it was manipulation — an attempt to pull her back into the same chaos she had once escaped. But Janani wasn’t that fragile girl anymore. She had learned to read human behavior like pages of a psychology book. Psychologically, people like Ram and Leela often do this for three reasons: 1. Control: They can’t stand seeing someone they once hurt finding peace. 2. Guilt displacement: Instead of a...

The ghosts of 2022 had long been buried — or so Janani thought. But some wounds don’t heal. They wait, in silence, for the right time to reopen Anonymous Instagram accounts started appearing — posting indirect captions, resharing old photos, whispering old rumours in new words. Janani froze the first time she saw one. That tone… that language… she knew. > “It’s them,” she whispered. “Ram and Leela.” Even after three years, they still hadn’t let her go. This time, they didn’t just want to hurt her — they wanted to isolate her. Slowly, stories spread across campus. Subtle accusations. Half-truths. People who once stood beside her — her friends — began to change sides. Rishi never came. He didn’t even ask what happened back then. He watched from a distance, maybe with guilt, maybe with relief — but never with courage. When she needed him the most, he chose silence. But Janani wasn’t alone this time — at least, not at first. Her close friend Kayal, and her brother-figure Nainar, stood w...

When silence was mistaken for guilt… The unupdated case issue, which began as a small departmental mistake, suddenly turned into chaos. What started as a few missing records became a storm that none of them saw coming. That evening, the professors and interns all sat together, trying to complete the pending files. It was late — exhaustion, tension, and guilt hung in the air. Even though everyone took responsibility and stayed back to finish the work, the damage was already done. The next day, when Janani took a rare leave to visit home, something unexpected happened. Someone had reported the incident of arguments and alleged harassment that occurred in the department to the university head. The mail went anonymously — but soon, rumors started to spread. By evening, Janani received a call from one of her relatives, who also happened to be a professor at the same institution. His voice was heavy with concern. > “Janani… why did you send that email? The Head of the College is saying it...

March 9–10, 2023 Janani sat on the hostel bed that evening, staring at the half-empty canteen plate. She remembered how Anjana had walked past her earlier without even saying a word. > “When she goes out, she never even tells me anymore. I used to think if I went out somewhere, I should at least tell her… but she doesn’t even bother now.” That day at the canteen, Janani waited, thinking Anjana would ask her to come along. She didn’t. She sat there alone, watching her friend laugh with others. Even when she had to buy medicine from PG, Anjana didn’t ask her to join. > “I was right there… but she didn’t call me. I sat alone — she didn’t even talk once. She sat with Sanghu and talked so freely. I don’t know why, but it really hurt. Still, she never realizes she’s hurting me.” Later during the KC period, when Janani tried to say something, Anjana ignored her again. She didn’t even look up when Janani asked a question. Her expression felt cold — distant. > “I don’t even know what s...

Not every distance begins with anger; some begin with quiet neglect.  Kayal, her best friend. They had shared laughter, food, late-night talks, and the comfort of knowing someone always had your back. But lately, that bond had started to fade without explanation. It began with small things — Kayal went out to buy scrubs and didn’t tell her. Then came the birthday celebration, a few group outings — all without Janani. She noticed it, but stayed quiet at first, hoping it was unintentional. But silence has a way of growing heavier. One day, when another misunderstanding broke out during their internship, Kayal chose to support someone else — not Janani. That moment hurt more than she could admit. She smiled on the outside, but her heart whispered, “Why didn’t she stand by me this time?” That night, Janani couldn’t hold it in any longer. She wrote to Kayal — not with anger, but with honesty. > “I wanted to talk to you about something that’s been on my mind. I’ve noticed some changes...