Are you capable of falling for someone?
That was the big question I found myself pondering — strangely enough — over a bowl of soup. Ridiculous, right?
But then again, this feeling has never followed logic. It just happens. It surprises you. It challenges you, motivates you, softens you, energizes you — and sometimes brings out a version of yourself you didn’t know still existed.
My all-time favorite film Jab We Met shows this transformation beautifully — how a chance encounter can shift your emotional chemistry and set off unexpected personal growth. I recently experienced something like that myself.
I was traveling for work — just another assignment, just another city, just another schedule. And then, quite unintentionally, I met someone over dinner. We ended up sharing a soup — one soup, two bowls — the kind of spontaneous moment that means nothing and everything at the same time.
We talked. We laughed. Conversation flowed effortlessly. Time moved faster than usual. There were no expectations, no agenda — just ease. And then, like most work trips, it ended quickly. I came back home assuming it was just a pleasant passing moment.
But something had shifted.
What followed is hard to explain in literal terms. The meeting didn’t change my circumstances — it changed my state. I felt lighter. Happier. More at peace with myself. There were no internal battles, no irritations, no emotional noise. Just a strange, quiet joy.
Energy returned.
I began doing things I had postponed for months — even years. I signed up for an intense yoga program. I lost weight. I felt more presentable, more alive. I finally restarted my podcast recordings that had been stalled for over a year. I met Gurudev and received his blessings. Momentum returned to my life.
They say you can truly love someone else only when you love yourself. Maybe that’s what this was really about. It wasn’t the person — it was the awakening. The reminder. The emotional spark.
After years of emotional highs and lows, I didn’t think I could still “fall.” But I did — not into a relationship — into a feeling. Into possibility. Into aliveness.
It probably was, quite simply, a crush.
And it shocked me to realize I hadn’t had a crush in 25 years. Apparently, the “flirty forties” are not a myth.
The people closest to me noticed the change.
My daughter said, “Mumma, you’re so happy these days.”
My husband smiled and said, “Enjoy.” He understands me better than I understand myself.
Someone else remarked, “You’re so positive right now — nothing can stop you.” It reminded me again of Jab We Met — how love, or even the idea of love, can pull someone out of emotional stagnation and push them toward growth and courage.
I wanted nothing unreasonable — just friendship, conversation, connection. But life doesn’t always return interest where you place it. He didn’t respond. And for perhaps the first time in my life, I experienced the other side of silence. I’ve unintentionally broken hearts before. This time, mine cracked a little.
And then — life added humor.
I stumbled upon that famous clip where Nicole Kidman tells Jimmy Fallon she once had a crush on him, visited his apartment — and he completely missed the signals, put on a video game, barely spoke, and made it painfully awkward. She left thinking there was zero chemistry… and wondered if he might be gay.
I laughed out loud.
Perspective arrived instantly. Maybe confusion is universal. Maybe missed signals are human. Maybe stories are bigger than outcomes. And that’s when the real realization settled in — the experience mattered more than the result.
I’m grateful it happened.
Because it reminded me that I am still capable of feeling deeply. Of lighting up. Of transforming. Of falling — and getting up again.
And all this… started with sharing a soup.
Think again before you do.
