There was a girl named Suman, soft-spoken but strong, quiet but deeply observant. From the outside, she seemed like any ordinary girl — she laughed with her friends, helped her mother in the kitchen, and spent hours writing poems in her diary. But what no one could see was the way Suman’s heart carried more than just her own emotions.
She had a strange gift — or maybe a burden — of feeling pain that wasn’t hers.
One evening, as she sat on her bed sketching in her notebook, a sudden wave of sadness hit her like a cold breeze. Her chest tightened. She hadn’t had a bad day. Nothing had gone wrong. Yet her eyes welled up with tears.
Her mind whispered, “Whose pain is this?”
The next day, she called her older sister, Sara, who lived in another city. As soon as she heard Sara’s voice, it cracked under the weight of something unspoken. Sara broke down crying. Her job was falling apart. She hadn’t told anyone — not even their parents. But Suman had already felt it, the night before.
This wasn’t the first time.
When her cousin had a miscarriage, Suman had dreamt of losing something precious days before it happened.
When her father fell silently into stress over financial matters, Suman found herself unable to sleep — her stomach in knots with worry she couldn’t explain.
When her friend smiled through her depression, Suman still knew something was off. She had sent a message that night: “Are you okay? Just had a feeling.”
And she was always right.
Her heart was like a mirror, catching the unspoken reflections of everyone she loved. At times it was heavy. Carrying invisible wounds isn’t easy. But slowly, Suman learned that this gift wasn’t a curse.
It was her soul’s way of saying: “You are meant to feel deeply — not just for yourself, but for others who can’t speak their pain.”
She began writing about it, turning emotion into art. She’d light a candle for her sister’s pain. Pray for her father’s strength. Send voice notes to friends at midnight — just because she felt something.
People called it intuition. Others said she was sensitive.
But Suman knew the truth:
She wasn’t just listening with her ears.
She was listening with her heart — and her heart always heard first.
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