Source of Being

"The place you reduce to a mere piece of flesh—there, creation bows in reverence. That silent center of a woman's being is the birthplace of every conscious thing in the world." — Dr. Shakira Nandani

That central part of the human body, which outwardly seems like nothing more than a biological void, is in truth the first stone laid in the creation of the cosmos. It is from here that life breathes its first breath, that time opens its eyes, and where all past and future quietly inhale together. Beneath this axis of existence lies a place not to be seen—but to be felt.

This is the hidden sanctuary that, for millennia, has birthed new eras from the womb of time. There is no proclamation, no heavenly thunder, and yet creation is ever in motion there. It is the point from which the human form is first sketched, from where life’s pathways emerge, and where an entire world matures in nameless silence.

Let it be remembered: the greatness of this place is not bound by religion, societal codes, or gender identity. It is the center where matter and spirit, intellect and instinct, experience and imagination converse freely. This is not merely a part of a woman’s body—it is the first page in the complete history of humanity.

The heart, which pulses close to this region, is not merely a pump of blood—it is a library of emotion. In every heartbeat hides a child’s first giggle, a mother’s first prayer, the last sigh of a parting. Within its depths glows a light untouched even by the lanterns of temples, mosques, or cathedrals.

The tongue, perched above this heart, is the medium through which the world first heard its name. Sometimes sweeter than honey, sometimes more bitter than venom, this is the very tongue that knots the first word into the fabric of creation—and that word becomes the world’s identity. It tells truth, and gathers the pain of centuries in silence.

The eyes above this tongue are not just mirrors, but gateways to dreams. Within them rest slumber and awakenings alike. Thought is born here, as is belief. These eyes reflect centuries of contemplation, and capture the astonishment of a moment.

And above all this sits the brain—the crown of the body. It is here that the magic of consciousness culminates. Where neurons shine like stars, and each moment is weighed on the scale of truth. The brain may architect the whole being, but it acknowledges the sanctity of that first clay, rising from the body’s deepest center.

All this balance, this interconnectedness, this wisdom—lies nestled in a silence that is not just the identity of woman, but the essence of human grandeur itself. This place is neither lowly nor exalted—it is central. It is fundamental. To measure it merely in physical terms is to deny the very majesty inherent in the act of creation.

It is therefore vital that the world recognize the sacredness of this silent miracle, understand its depth, and learn to hear the voice that does not speak in words.