I heard someone tell me that when you have the guts to do something or say something then learn to say that “Yes, I did that.” In simple words ‘Own It’. But to accept one’s mistake and take its blame is not as easy as taking credit for all the good you did. Wanting others to see what you see and hear what you hear with your mindset is not an easy feat. This freedom to believe what you want is a matter of Free Will, and when we know we can’t tamper with other Free Will too, that’s where ‘Blame Shifting’ comes in.

Blame shifting is a phenomenon that is often linked with Narcissism. They tend to substitute their culpability to others. You see, it’s convenient. Shifting blame to victims is useful because it allows you to be free of any guilt and the cumbersome task of taking any responsibility or alteration plus let’s agree, it saves your face. You don’t have to go through the humiliation of being wrong or being unruly. Another reason is, narcissists are very good in vindicating everything. They can find 1001 reasons why everybody but them is to accuse. And they aren’t perturbed or fretful by the fact; it’s just an illusion they created for themselves.

They can’t see any imperfections in themselves, they have glorified themselves so much that they see themselves as ideal. So instead of condemning themselves, they criticise others. This is called Alloplastic Defense, which means they hold the world accountable for their problems, not themselves.

Narcissism is an actual condition, called NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) What we call “blame shifting” they call “protecting themselves”. While you call yourself a victim, they know that the real victim is them. You are trying to make them feel bad, guilty, or trap them. You are the manipulator. You are the instigator of this conflict. Why are you doing this to them?

Lies are just lies. They happen. There are so many ways to victimise; the NPD isn’t even aware of the fact that he/she is doing it. An NPD doesn’t (generally) intend to hurt anyone, they merely want to do what they want to do, and so they do it. What do other people have to do with that? None of their business.

Deceiving, evading, being insensitive… none of those is done to hurt people; they are solely ways for the NPD to pursue and project the life they feel they ought to have.

So, if you “attack” someone with NPD by saying, “You did something that hurt me,” their instinct is to call you the liar and utterly destroy you for trying to make them feel bad about themselves.

Since they lack “Purpose Integrity”— the ability to maintain favourable feelings about a person throughout a range of situations or distance—if you are attacking, you are the enemy. You must be destroyed.

After all, if they didn’t mean to hurt you, you shouldn’t be hurt.

But let us not forget a few things here. Not all crimes or mistakes are enormous; some are pretty small and modest, especially when done by kids. They often almost expect a parent to come to their aid.

Until my father passed away, I felt very protected and very secure. The reason being, he never blamed me for anything, be it my natural mistakes or the ruckus I deliberately or unintentionally created. He would just tell my Mom that he broke the vase, he spilt the milk, he forgot to recharge the phone, or he was the person who stained her saree. But while we were alone, and Mom was away he would lovingly tell me that it was wrong to do that, I shouldn’t have done it, and if I do it again, he won’t come to my rescue. And I very firmly believe that his way of saving me a scolding and disgrace but guiding to the right path made me the person I am. Today I am not afraid to accept 100% responsibility for the wrongs I did.

These benign incidents between a family that hurt no ones feeling, in particular, aren’t the source of anyone’s agony.

But yes,

For anyone who is a victim or a scapegoat…

Save the need for answers. Do not get quicksand in need of validation.

Save the questions. It perpetuates the vicious cycle of everything being about them.

Reverse your thought processes and make everything about you.

Get OUT. Survive.

Then go back to the whys, they won’t matter anyway. Until you are Free.



Quote of the day

Life is not just a gift, it is a responsibility, a duty we have towards the universe. We must go through it not just making it better for us but for others as well.


Samar stood on the balcony of his one-bedroom rented house and sipped on the aromatic Masala tea he just made himself as he gazed down at the two children playing Hopscotch. The two boys brought a soft smile to his lips as they played and fought and then made up then and there. How simple is childhood, how short-lived are the fights, how quick we are to patch up again, shake hands, hug and get back to playing together. He was engrossed in the two kids that he even forgot to dunk his biscuits in his tea. The boy’s mother came in the balcony from the opposite building and called them up ‘Daddy was home’. They both yelled and ran up inside the multi-floor building.

Samar looked at his empty teacup and the leftover biscuits. He thought about Sagar and his own childhood. Sagar was his younger brother, but Samar was more a father to him than their Dad. Samar was seven yrs elder to Sagar, and Sagar respected him and loved him like a son respects a father. Samar used to do all his little brother’s work as both their parents were working government employees. From waking him up for school to bathing him, getting him dressed and taking him to school, he did it all. Samar used to bring him home, give him lunch, make him sleep, help him do his homework and then play with him. And in between when Samar got some time for himself, he did his daily chores, but he never had enough time to make friends, Sagar was his everything, his brother, his friend. On the other hand, Sagar was quick and easy to be friends with and had a barrage of friends.

As Sagar touched 13, he became rebellious, like most kids his age do. The hormones kicked in, and he was confused just like any other kid. Trying to figure out his real self amongst all the chaos. Samar was in his college 3rd year, and his studies were taking a toll on him, he wasn’t able to spend much time with Sagar, but he was able to notice the subtle changes in his little brother’s behaviour. Sagar started to stay indoors or outdoors but never with family. Mostly he locked himself up in his room and played his guitar. He stopped sharing anything with Samar and became somewhat of a recluse. He started to have severe mood swings and was beginning to hang out with the wrong kind of groups. Samar noticed this and tried to talk to him, but he would escape the confrontation using sarcasm as his weapon.


One Sunday when everyone was home and were sitting in the hall having family time when Samar asked his mother “Maa, where is Sagar ?”

His mother just shrugged her shoulders and sighed with a fond smile “It was always you who knew more about Sagar and his whereabouts. I and your Dad are home only on Sundays, and we hardly see him home nowadays, except at breakfast and at dinner.”

Samar nodded and his Dad looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Are you two having any problems Samar?” he asked smoking his pipe.

Samar looked at his palms with a deep breath and said: “I don’t know Dad, but he’s been acting very oddly of late.”

His Dad leaned forward as his mother got up and went in the kitchen to prepare the evening tea for everybody. “Look, Samar, every boy his age behaves a bit radically, don’t you worry. Just because you were pretty balanced in your teenage years, and I am thankful for that, it does not means that Sagar will be balanced too. He will come around, don’t you worry.” His dad said patting his knee reassuringly. 

Samar nodded and chit-chatted with his Dad about his future studies and career. Their Dad had big dreams for them, he knew Sagar will follow his heart but Samar was the one who would do exactly as he was told. Just then they both saw Sagar come in, a cricket bat in his hand, blood dripping down his face from his forehead and soaking his white shirt.

“What happened to you, Sagar???” Samar and his father asked in unison as they both stood up and Samar ran to Sagar and frisked him to see where all he was hurt.

To his horror, Sagar pushed him back and screeched at the top of his lungs “DO NOT TOUCH ME!!!”

Samar couldn’t believe his ears but he stepped back looking at Sagar whose face was an image of fury and pain.

“What has happened Samar, why are you all bloodied? Why are you speaking to your brother in that tone?”, their Dad asked him in a booming and clear voice as he stepped between them.

“HE IS NOT MY BROTHER…..”, he yelled with hot tears flowing from his eyes and added as he broke down on his knees “AND YOU ALL ARE LIARS!!!” Samar screamed as he dissolved into tears.

Sagar couldn’t understand what was happening; he looked form his Dad to Sagar and then back at his Dad. His father’s face went pale like chalk powder, and he looked with vacant eyes at Sagar.

Samar held Sagar by his shoulders “Sagar, my dearest, brother calm down. Tell us what has happened. We are here for you. Why are you in so much anger?”

Sagar looked at Samar as though seeing him for the very first time. Samar felt intimidated. And then Sagar spewed the truth that would rot their family ties like the venom of a poisonous snake.

“Ohhh!!!! So you too don’t know like me. You too have been kept in the dark.” he said looking at his father who seemed to have lost the power of speech. “Then let me tell you what has happened. You….” he paused and drew a deep breath as though gathering enough courage “You are not my brother, you are not Dad’s son. You are from Mom’s first marriage, and you and I have been lied to all our lives. This home, this happy family is all a lie, a myth. WE ARE STEP BROTHERS!!! he yelled. “YESSS!!! You are my stepbrother; I came to know this truth from my friends Dad, who knew your birth father. I have just opened my friend’s skull when I first heard it. And he gave it back to me” Sagar said heaving as he pointed towards his own forehead and went on “I don’t wanna live in this home now. I don’t wanna live with you anymore. I am leaving.” He declared and ran to his bedroom shutting the door.

Samar felt like he had been run over by a boulder and been smashed hard enough to turn to nothing but dust. He looked at his Dad’s fallen face and knew at once that this was indeed true. He stormed to his bedroom. On the way, he saw his mother standing at the kitchen doors as she cried with her saree’s corner pressed to her mouth. He paused and gazed into her mother’s eyes. Her eyes spoke volumes, but Samar wasn’t ready to hear more right now. Everything that had been already said was too much to swallow, too much to digest and comprehend.


A million questions ran amok through his mind as he lay on his bed looking up at the ceiling. How is that possible? Why was this kept a secret from him all these yrs? Who was his biological father? Where was he? Why his mother remarried? What shall he do now? What will become of his future now? Can he still call the man he knew to be his father as ‘Dad’? He felt like he didn’t deserve to be lying in this bed, living under this roof anymore. The home that was his own hours ago seemed like favour thrust upon his head now. He didn’t come out to eat. Every morsel of food he ate seemed like a souvenir of his Dad’s courtesy and kindness. No, not his Dad anymore. He corrected himself.

He packed his stuff in two bags, taking only his clothes, books and few bare essentials with him. Then he wrote down to write a letter.

Dear Sagar,

I am very sorry for all the hurt you had to go through because of me. I never knew this truth. Thank You, brother, for making me aware of the things to which I was oblivious all these years. You can not live with me in this home anymore. That is fair. But you are leaving this home for my sake? That is very unfair. You belong here; I am the odd one out. I am going from your lives never to come back again. Take care of yourself and please take care of Mom and Dad. Be Good.

Your Brother

He folded the letter and switched off the lights to his room. Closing the door behind him, he slid the folded note under Sagar’s bedroom door and left the place he knew as his home for since forever.

That was 10 years ago, the hurt had healed but not the pain of separation. He missed Mom, he missed Dad, but most of all he missed his little brother and his only friend, Sagar.



She continually honked to get ahead in her hurried frenzy, overtaking a few cars a bit rashly. Diana was sitting by her side in the passenger seat with her daughters in the back. She placed a hand on her elder sister’s hand on the steering wheel. It was cold and was trembling.

Diana looked a long minute at Nina and Nina was acutely aware of her younger sister’s unwavering gaze. She looked in the rearview mirror and wiped her sweaty brow with a tissue she extracted from a box on the dashboard.

“Di, what is up? I have never seen you worried about Mum before today. I had called you many times, requested you to talk to her, come and meet her as she was longing to see you, but you never budged. Then what happened today?”

Nina gave her younger sister a haughty look and opened her mouth to retort back when she closed it. Diana wasn’t wrong. She had never cared, she had given her mother back what she got from her, bitterness and uncaring indifference. Then why today? Nina’s eyes were on the road, but she was back in time, lying in her bunk bed in her bedroom that she shared with Diana back in her childhood home when she was 12, and above her on the bunk was Diana. She had cried herself to sleep when she saw her father let her mother off the hook.

At midnight she got up and went to the kitchen to get water as she was feeling parched and saw the kitchen lights on. She hid behind the door and peered inside through a slit in the door. Her mother was sitting on the kitchen floor and crying holding something close to her chest. Upon looking closely, she saw it was her dress. The one she was wearing when her mother hit her. The dress had her blood stains on it. Her mother hugged the dress and rocked back and forth crying as she chanted only one thing “I am sorry. I am sorry, baby. I am sorry Nina. Forgive me, baby. My darling, I am so sorry” – saying this, her mother kissed her dress over and over.

Nina drew in a sharp breath, and her sigh was heard by her mother who hid the dress in a kitchen closet and came outside. She saw Nina and looked at her with her red-rimmed eyes. She held Nina firmly by her arm and dragged her back to her room. “Why were you outside your bed? Hasn’t the doctor told you to rest ?”, her mother yelled at her.

Nina looked at her mother with compassion and forgiveness which seemed to have agitated her mother even more as she let go of Nina’s hand and said, “Never pry into me again girl. It won’t do you any good.”

“Mom….” Nina said holding her mother’s dress from the back as she turned to leave.

She stopped. Nina could tell she was working hard to control the barrage of tears in her eyes. “Mom…..I need you. Sleep with me tonight.” Nina had asked in a pleading voice. Her mother was taken aback by her innocent request and was about to scold when her features softened and she sat on Nina’s bed. She lay on the bed and made Nina lie by her side. Nina placed one arm over mother’s arm and felt her mother’s warmth fill her with unsaid words and hidden love. Nina dozed off soon but not before she felt a tear fall on her shoulder and wet her dress from her mother’s eyes. She felt a soft kiss on her forehead and a loving caress on her head as she heard, “I Love You both. I am sorry for everything. But I know you have forgiven me already.” Saying this she slept by Nina’s side, and that was the only night when Nina felt loved and cherished.

(Image Source: Google Inc.)

The next morning Nina had woken up with a hope in her heart that from that day things will get better. That ‘today’ was the dawn of a new life in which she was loved by her mother like all her friends. She went to the kitchen and made a beautiful breakfast of Cheese Toasts and Milkshakes as a pleasant surprise for her mother, and went to take a bath wishing she would see it all and feel happy and would shower Nina with her love. She was waiting for her mother to wake up expectantly, the air seemed to be filled with her palpable positivity. Her mother came outside and went into her bedroom. Her father was already gone on a tour by the morning flight without informing them, leaving a note behind for her mother. Without a word, her mother stormed into the kitchen muttering something to herself. With bated breath, Nina waited for her to emerge with a smile, but all she heard was a scream. She ran to the kitchen and saw her mother standing there in a fit of rage as Nina felt her breath caught in her throat.

“W…wh….what happened Mum ?” She asked her mother tentatively trying to figure out what wrong she did as she saw the breakfast she made lying on the floor amongst broken dishes.

“Who told you to make breakfast?”, her Mum asked with gritted teeth.

“I made this to please you.” Nina managed to say with tears in her eyes, trying to figure out how it was on the floor when she saw Diana hiding under the couch and crying with her hands covering her mouth. She understood that Diana must have felt hungry and attempted to take breakfast on her own and spilt it all.

“You have succeeded in pleasing me beyond my imagination. Let me reward you now”, saying this her mother grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her into her bedroom shoving her in and locking her from outside.

She cried and hammered the door “Mum what wrong have I done!” But no reply came, no one opened the door. Nina was locked in that room for 28 hours before her father came back and opened the door for her. No, she was locked there for last 28 years, she never left that room it seemed.

(Image Source: Google Inc.)

Today the 40 year old woman was going to return that one gesture of love, to the woman she knew to be her mother. Today her mother needed her, just like that Nina who had needed her mother.

She looked at Diana and told, “I have always given Mum what she gave me. I was not like you. You were much more kind and forgiving. You let her back in your home and heart after father died. But I never let her back in my heart”, Nina said as she was passing the Mysore Palace. “But today I am going to return her the one night of love she gave me.”

The sisters pulled into the Hospital in which their mother was admitted and unbelted themselves. Diana was sliding out her seat when Nina held her hand, “Diana, I always feared that I would be a mother to my child like my mother was to me. So, I never started a family. But I am happy to see you. A great mom you are!” Nina looked at the sleeping Kiara and Riya in the back seat and smiled. “I am glad that these two angels have a mother like we never had.” Saying this she hugged her, and both sisters had a tearful rendezvous in the real sense.

“Come, let’s go inside,” said Diana and Nina nodded taking a deep breath.


I Like it. I Love it. I Desire it. I Need it. I am Desperate for it. I Can’t have it. I am Depressed. This will Ruin me. Nothing I do Ends this. I Need to Let Go. It’s Hard. I am Practising it every day. I am Learning. I still Want it, but I am NOT Desperate. I have Moved on. I was Silly. I can do Better. Until……I Like it.

Human life is purposeless without passions and dreams and desires.

There are some things which you don’t need or want; you are desperate for them. At the same time, those things need not be relevant to you otherwise but that that particular moment in time.

On the one hand, a man in the cold winter night, out on the road can be desperate for a cup of steaming hot coffee while another can be desperate for the loving warmth of a loved one.

So many times, in my despair and my grief I had been desperate for something I could never have. I was desperate for my fathers loving embrace. I was desperate to hear him retake my name, to hear his voice boom in my house. I was aching to listen to the sound of his footfalls and the screeching halt of his car tyres. I was yearning for him to come and tell me all the unspoken things that I was feeling but was unable to say. That was more than six years ago, but even today there are days when I feel that I need him to come and tell me he is proud of me, that he is happy to see me evolving.

I was unwell a little while ago; those were the times of fear and gloom for me. I am somewhat of a hypochondriac, and that makes me needing someone to assure me again and again that everything will be alright. Those were the days I was yelling in my soul, screaming silently for my father. I was anguished for him, I needed him by my side, holding my hand and calming my fears.

Different people are desperate for different things at the different point of time. But none of us, trust me, none of us has been untouched by Desperation.

While a child is desperate for friends and company, a newly married couple feels the same for solitude. Where deaf crave to hear some noise, the normal want to shut their ears and block out all sound. While a tired man wants to sleep, a bored man is in need of work. I am in the city, and I am desperate for the simple village life, and my cousin in the village wants to switch places with me.

I am too small to explain such a huge phenomenon, but what I do know is that to be desperate is hard work. It is something you do 24/7 because you just can’t stop until you have acquired the object of your despondency. And if for one reason or another you are unable to have it, you can sink into deep depression and discomfort. It is a very consuming aspect as we can’t just shake it off.

Despairing for simple things like food, water, shelter and money can be met with sooner, but aspirations like love, happiness, contentment, possession, fame and success can lead us to live half a life that is full of nothing but long mourning of the unrealised desires of our proverbial heart. Everything good and positive in us is replaced by melancholy, pain, sorrow and unhappiness. It can make us lose our confidence and our empathy.

I would suggest you all be Desperate and to be desperate enough but to channel that energy into your goals and your purposes and your aims. There will be no use sitting in the confinement of your house and pacing your room while rubbing your knuckles. What will give you peace, reserve, harmony and stability is a greater understanding, knowledge with which we need to sort the things in our list of desires and rule out the entries that are unrealistic, unworkable and nonsensical.

Be Passionate. Be Driven. Not Desperate !


She counted the money. She counted it twice, then thrice. With a sigh, she sat on her bed, while all her purses and money boxes lay scattered around her. Even after collecting every last penny of her savings the money wasn’t enough to pay for the injections needed to save her daughter’s life. Her heart sank at the perspective. What would happen now?

Her five-year-old girl was terribly ill. She was admitted to a government hospital. Her father had died in a road accident leaving the mother and child alone in this cruel world. Sapna sat crying, she saw no way to save her Naina. Naina, who was her only reason to live. Naina who loved to eat pastries and patties. Naina, who was fighting for each breath as she lay in that hospital ward. Her tiny hands, her little feet, unmoving and lifeless. Sapna tried hard not to give in to panic and depression.

There must be a way, there has to be one. Life can’t treat her so harshly. She can’t lose the last ray of light in her dark life. She won’t let Naina die. One by one she called each and every one person she knew, all from whom she expected some help, all who were financially well-off. One wasn’t in town, other had just bought a new TV, another had all her money into lock-in period investments. Sapna gazed at the yellow walls of her small home.

Was life so cheap? Were 40,000 Rs more than a child’s life? Has greed and selfishness turned man’s heart so cold and dead to human misery and suffering? She was a woman of 32, who had seen life’s darkest of shades in such a young age. An orphan of 25 who fell in love with a machine man named Harsh and married him and dreamed of a home she never had. He had been everything she desired from her life partner and she left no stone unturned in becoming a perfect wife to him. Two years later they were blessed with a baby girl. Their happiness was complete. For four years she lived in a paradise that wasn’t made of riches and extravaganza but rather love and happiness and hope.

And then one night, the gods decided it was just enough. Her ordeal began with the news that her husband died in a road accident. She was left with nothing. No family, no one to love, no money, no one to wipe her tears that flowed unabashedly. That night Naina had wiped her mother’s tears. Sapna couldn’t bear Naina’s innocence. The poor girl had no idea what she had just lost.

But the mother and daughter picked each other up. They made a small haven for themselves in the one-room apartment and Sapna took up the job of a teacher in Naina’s school. She earned just enough to make ends meet, saving each penny she could to secure a future for Naina, to send her to a good college. Naina was such an understanding child. Sapna never saw her throwing tantrums or asking for toys or chocolates like other kids. Naina’s maturity made Sapna’s heartache.

And now that one fairy doll, that one angel of heaven would be lost too. Sapna cried long and hard, her eyes got misty and she dozed off. In her dream, she saw her husband holding Naina in his lap and kissing her in a land that was made of clouds. Harsh was spinning around with Naina in his arms and Sapna wanted to shout “Look out Harsh, she will fall” but she had no voice. And then she saw Harsh and Naina bidding her goodbye and they went into a thick mist, all she could see was their receding backs as she screamed, but her scream was stuck in her throat. No sound was coming from her. Sapna sat up, drenched in sweat. Her heart was beating like a steam engine. She wiped her sweaty brow and sat there trying to hold on to the dream, to see Naina and Harsh, but the vision was soon fading from the back of her eyelids. She took a few deep breaths and calmed down her heart. No, she can’t let that happen. She needed Naina more than Harsh needed her.

She got up, collected the money and ran to the hospital. Nothing had changed. Naina was lying in her hospital bed. Her frame was bony and lanky as she had lost so much weight in just one week. She sat on a pedestal stool by her daughter’s side and caressed her forehead. Naina opened her eyes. She gave a weak smile to her mother. Sapna gave her a teary smile and showered her with kisses as the mother-daughter hugged each other, clinging together. Holding Naina made Sapna’s insides twist into a knot. She has gone so thin and frail.

“When are we going back home, Maa?” Naina asked in a shaky voice.

“Soon, very soon I will take you with me, my sweetheart” Sapna assured her not knowing exactly how she would do that.

The monitors attached to Naina beeped, like counting her numbered breaths, the IV pouring medicines and glucose in her dripped like life was draining from her. Sapna closed her eyes as she embraced Naina tightly. She felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up. It was the hospital nurse.

“These medicines are needed immediately. Please get them ASAP.” The nurse told her curtly.

Naina looked at the paper and then at the nurse. “How much would they cost sister?” She enquired.

The nurse gave an exasperated sigh “At least 3,000”, she told and left after taking Naina’s pulse.

Sapna went down to the chemist and bought the medicines. Her very last penny was spent. All was lost. Until………

Sapna gave the medicines to the nurse and kissed Naina as she left the hospital and took the bus to Mr Parmar’s office. He was the owner of the factory in which her husband worked. She had met him only once before after Harsh died. She had gone to him to ask for Harsh’s last salary. After clearing her dues the man had placed a hand on Sapna’s shoulder. Sapna had taken it as a gesture of condolence until Mr Parmar said, “You are young and have a whole life ahead of you. A woman needs many things to survive. Love, money and a man in her life. If ever you decide that you are too tired to go on alone, just knock on my door. And I will make sure there is nothing you lack after that.” With these words, he had caressed Sapna’s shoulder and left her alone.

Sapna had run from his office and cried hard after coming home that day. She had sworn to herself that she will never succumb to life’s challenges and would bring Naina up on her own, keeping her dignity and pride intact. But today, that woman had lost that battle and a mother had surrendered herself to her fate. Nothing was more precious than her Naina’s life, not even her sanctity. She took a deep breath and looked at Mr Parmar’s office building and steeled her heart and braced her mind.

Continue reading the next part: HERE


Walking through this life, I often Stumble

Sailing through time, it makes me Tremble

Fears can’t be faced with a pinch of Salt

It Hampers my growth, but it’s not my Fault

Thorny and Barbed and Dry and Rough

I can walk no more, this road is tough

Days can be dark, nights can be darker

Fright Has no pattern, there is no Marker

Just know that it’s fine if you take a fall

If you conquer your fears and just stand tall

Yours can be a dog or a spider or a snake

Mine can be flowers or books or cake

I fear Doctors and Dying and Crowd

But that’s no reason that I can’t feel proud

You won’t know Freedom until you know a cage

Just overcome that horror, just turn that Page

For you are not alone in this battle that’s within

But just keep on fighting and never do Give in

You try and try, you try harder and you fail

You sob and you cry and you whine and you wail

“Fear is only as deep as the mind allows” they say

So snatch it by its neck and show it the Highway

You seek but none can help, it’s your own battle

These scares and these frights are your own chattel

So don’t show your back and run like a coward

Focus on your strengths and feel empowered

I would let you on a secret, on how to be Wise

F.E.A.R is an acronym for, Face Enemy And Rise!