bhaskar saikia

Perhaps perfect hearts are not the ones that look flawless, but the ones that have been broken and mended with care. Scars, after all, are silent stories—stories of love, loss, and resilience.

Every stitch in a heart tells of a moment when someone chose to give love freely, without calculating the cost or expecting anything in return. It speaks of courage—the courage to feel deeply, to trust again, and to keep believing in love even after it has hurt.

In a world that glorifies perfection, we often forget that the most beautiful things are rarely untouched. A mountain shaped by wind, a tree marked by seasons, or a heart stitched after being torn—all carry the poetry of endurance. Their imperfections make them real. Their scars make them alive.

Unconditional love isn’t about possession or permanence. It’s about giving—a quiet offering that asks for nothing back. It’s about holding someone in kindness even when they walk away, about wishing them well even when your heart aches. That’s what each stitch signifies: a fragment of love that was pure enough to survive pain.

When we learn to see our scars as reminders instead of wounds, healing begins. We realize that a heart filled with stitches is not weak—it’s wise. It knows that to love is to risk, and to risk is to live.

So perhaps, the next time we look at our own stitched hearts, we should not hide them. We should wear them proudly, for they are the truest proof that we have loved deeply and lived fully.