The Mystery of How My Sibling’s Favourite Song Became Mine (Without My Consent!)

This morning, after what felt like ages, I finally picked up the remote like a grown-up, turned on the TV, wandered into YouTube… and there it was.

A random suggested song.

Nothing fancy, nothing dramatic — but somehow, it pulled me straight back into my childhood.

You know those moments when life suddenly presses the “flashback” button without asking you?

Exactly that.

I grew up in a home where there was exactly one device to listen to songs.

ONE.

And obviously, only one person got the royal privilege of controlling it:

the eldest sibling.

(Yes, dear sibling, you may consider this your official tag. Kindly step forward. 😌)

Important note:

This whole story applies perfectly if you grew up with a boy–boy sibling combo or a girl–boy combo.

Trust me, in these cases, someone always takes full control of the music, the remote, the device… basically the entire house.

But girl–girl siblings?

Oh no, no, no.

That’s a whole different universe.

They don’t “force favorites” — they negotiate, argue, bond, fight, become DJs together, switch tastes, switch sides… it’s an entirely different emotional climate. 😂

So girl–girl siblings, this may not be your category. Kindly read with compassion.

And today, of all the millions of songs available on the internet, YouTube decided to suggest his favourite song.

One of his Top 3, the kind he played on loop until the walls, neighbours, utensils, and every living organism in the house memorised it.

And suddenly, I found myself asking:

How did HIS favourite song become MY favourite… without my permission?

Because honestly:

I don’t know the meaning.

I don’t know the lyrics.

I don’t know the backstory.

I didn’t even choose the song.

Yet here I am, emotionally attached to it like it’s part of my personality.

Did I truly choose this?

Or did repetition during childhood hypnotize me into liking it?

And then the bigger question arrived:

If THIS is how favorites are formed…

how many things in my life right now are actually mine,

and how many are just childhood settings I forgot to uninstall?

My habits, my comfort music, my routines, my so-called “choices”…

How much of it is me,

and how much is emotional inheritance?

But then, something soft and warm hits me.

Maybe our “favorites” aren’t always chosen.

Maybe they’re collected.

Absorbed.

Imprinted.

Borrowed with love (or forced with elder-sibling authority 😌).

Maybe a song becomes our favorite not because we understand it,

but because it belonged to the world we grew up in —

a world full of noise, warmth, chaos, fights, bonding, and unexplainable comfort.

So dear eldest sibling…

Congratulations.

Your music taste has officially taken permanent citizenship in my brain.

And somehow…

I don’t mind it. 😍

Because some things

don’t need meaning,

don’t need explanation —

they just need memory.

Meenakshi R Karthikeyan

AAGHNYA™ | Your Inner Awakening Space

The Little World I Discovered While Cleaning My Daughter’s Room

This morning, I made the biggest mistake a mom can ever make…

I said, “Let me quickly clean my daughter’s room.”

Quickly.

Yes.

I actually believed that.

I walked in with confidence — broom in hand, hair tied up like a warrior, ready to fight dust, toys, and whatever surprise life had in store.

But the moment I entered, I realised…

I wasn’t in her room.

I was in Narnia, Jurassic Park, and an art exhibition combined.

First corner:

A tiny friend — tucked in perfectly, having a sleepover. A sleepover!

The doll was sleeping more peacefully than me on a Sunday morning.

Next corner:

A whole jungle conference.

Tiny wild animals all gathered like they were discussing budget cuts in the forest.

Then a mountain… no… a Himalaya of soft toys.

Every teddy looked like it had its own emotions and backstory.

I swear one of them even judged me.

Then I found her study table.

Neatly arranged papers, all hand-painted.

And on top…

her bunny night lamp acting as a paperweight.

Who taught my daughter stationery management?.....mmmm....mm

Anyway, I started flipping through her paintings.

And let me tell you — watercolours had travelled to places even Google Maps can’t find.

There were splashes, smudges, designs from her imagination, and things that looked like modern art but also like an accident.

Then suddenly…

BOOM.

A beautiful Halloween painting with her dad’s name written on it.

My heart? Gone. Melted. Full senti mode.

Next painting — our family names.

Daddy. Mommy. Hers.

On one sheet.

I didn’t cry… I just… emotionally hydrated.

And then…

AND THEN… the plot twist.

My own brochure was sitting among her paintings.

My brochure!

I don’t know if I kept it there, or if she did a full Mission Impossible from my workplace and stole it for her “personal branding collection.”

And just when I thought the surprises were over…

She had drawn all seven chakras.

All.

Seven.

Chakras.

With colours.

With labels.

With perfection that even my workshop attendees don’t give me.

And on the top —

she wrote the name of my centre.

But wait.

WAIT.

The funniest part?

She added the trademark symbol (™) next to it.

That’s when I realised…

My 4-year-old is not just a child.

She’s my assistant.

My intern.

My brand manager.

By the end of it, yes, cleaning was challenging…

but what I discovered in that room was something no vacuum cleaner could’ve prepared me for.

Her world.

Her little universe.

Her love.

Her innocence.

Her creativity sprinkled everywhere like confetti.

Her room wasn’t messy.

It was magical.

And somewhere in the middle of cleaning, I accidentally cleaned my heart too.

Sometimes, motherhood is this —

You go in to clean a room…

and you come out with a story that stays with you forever.

Meenakshi R Karthikeyan

AAGHNYA™ | Your Inner Awakening Space