We Are All Here for a Reason....

 

We Are All Here for a Reason...

I have always believed that our presence on this earth is not accidental, it is intentional and meaningful. Over the years, my journey with children and individuals with hearing impairment has strengthened this belief countless times. I have seen a child hear his mother’s voice for the very first time and burst into tears, a teenager who once avoided conversations become a confident public speaker, and parents who arrived anxious leave with hope in their hearts. These are not coincidences, they are reminders that each of us is placed where we are needed most. Perhaps my role is to be a bridge between silence and sound, between doubt and confidence, between fear and possibility.

One of the most unforgettable experiences that reaffirmed my purpose was attending the annual function of the Rochiram T. Thadani High School for Hearing Handicapped as a Chief Guest. The performers that evening were hearing-impaired children, yet the auditorium was filled with rhythm, expressions, and energy that words cannot capture. Watching them dance in perfect coordination by following visual cues and vibrations rather than sound was deeply moving. In my speech, I said, “Today these kids had a beautiful smile of confidence,” because their smiles reflected victory over limitations society often imposes on them. They were not performing to prove anything; they were celebrating who they are. That evening reminded me that ability is not defined by what we lack, but by how courageously we use what we have.

Purpose also reveals itself in the quiet determination of ordinary people. A dear friend of mine, inspired by the strength of working women around her, started a small dosa stall in Delhi. In a street dominated by popular non-vegetarian outlets, her stall stands as the only vegetarian one, steady and respected. She begins her day before sunrise, prepares everything herself, and works tirelessly till late night. Her children watch her juggle responsibilities with pride rather than complaint. When we met recently in Guwahati, Assam, she told me she had gathered the courage to begin after observing my journey and positivity. I felt deeply humbled, because inspiration often travels silently. Her success is not measured only in earnings but in the dignity she has built for herself and the example she has set for her children.

Throughout my work, I have encountered many such stories that reinforce the idea of purpose. I remember a young girl who refused to attend school because she felt different due to her hearing device. With consistent encouragement, she eventually participated in a cultural program and later told me it was the first time she felt proud of herself. Another boy who struggled with speech practiced daily in front of a mirror until he could confidently introduce himself on stage. These moments may seem small to the world, but to me they are profound evidence that every struggle prepares us for a role only we can fulfill.

Our scriptures beautifully guide us toward understanding this truth. In the Bhagavad Gita, Lord Krishna counsels Arjuna on the battlefield of Kurukshetra when he is overwhelmed with confusion and sorrow. Krishna does not remove Arjuna from the battlefield; instead, he reminds him of his duty and inner strength. That incident teaches us that we are placed in certain situations because we are capable of handling them, even when we doubt ourselves. Whenever I face difficult decisions or emotional moments, I remember that sincere action guided by faith is itself a fulfillment of purpose.

Purpose also reveals itself through the people we meet. During workshops and camps, I have encountered volunteers who quietly work behind the scenes, arranging chairs, comforting anxious parents, guiding children to the stage, without expecting recognition. Their joy comes from participation, not applause. Once, a young volunteer told me she chose this work because her sibling had a disability and she wanted other families to feel supported. That day I realized that sometimes our pain becomes our purpose, transforming personal struggles into collective strength. We may not choose our circumstances, but we can choose what we create from them.

Over time, I have learned that purpose is not fixed, it evolves as we grow. What begins as a profession can become a mission, and what starts as responsibility can become passion. Writing about positivity, speaking at events, and interacting with families has expanded my understanding of why I am here. Each story I hear, each life I witness, adds another layer to that understanding. Purpose is less about finding one grand answer and more about living meaningfully every day.

As I reflect on the confident smiles of hearing-impaired children on stage, the resilience of a mother running her food stall, the teachings of Lord Krishna, and the courage of families I meet, I feel certain that none of us are here by chance. We are here to uplift, to inspire, to support, and to love in ways only we can. Your reason may be different from mine, but it is equally important. Because somewhere, knowingly or unknowingly, your existence is making someone else’s journey easier. And perhaps that is the most beautiful reason of all.