I am not a very rough and tough kind of a girl, rather a little

The words of Jasmin Bhasin, spoken with gentle honesty, ring like a soft melody in a world often ruled by noise and armor: “I am not a very rough and tough kind of a girl, rather a little sensitive. I believe in unicorns, dreams, and dolls.” To the unseeing ear, these may sound like the confessions of innocence, but beneath them lies a profound truth about strength — that there is power in gentleness, courage in vulnerability, and grace in believing when others have forgotten how. In these words, Bhasin reclaims the sanctity of sensitivity in an age that celebrates hardness, and reminds us that imagination and kindness are not weaknesses but the very essence of what makes us human.

The origin of this quote rests in Jasmin Bhasin’s own journey — an actress who has navigated the world of glamour and competition, yet chooses to hold fast to her inner light. In an industry that often demands toughness, she speaks instead from the heart of the dreamer, refusing to let cynicism steal her sense of wonder. Her belief in unicorns, those mythical creatures of purity and beauty, stands as a symbol for all the things unseen yet deeply felt — hope, innocence, and the unyielding faith that life holds magic beyond reason. To believe in dreams and dolls, she tells us, is not to be naive, but to be brave enough to protect one’s tenderness in a world eager to harden the soul.

In the language of the ancients, this is the philosophy of the gentle warrior — the one who fights not with the sword, but with the heart. For what is sensitivity if not the ability to feel deeply, to perceive the pain and joy of existence more keenly than others? It is the gift of empathy, the foundation of compassion, and the source of all artistry. The rough and tough may endure storms through resistance, but the sensitive endure through resilience — bending like the reed that survives the wind because it refuses to break. In her words, Bhasin offers a truth that sages and poets have long known: strength without softness is brittle, and power without feeling is hollow.

Consider the story of Anne Frank, the young girl who, while hiding from the cruelty of war, filled her diary with dreams of peace, love, and humanity. Surrounded by darkness, she still wrote, “In spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart.” Her faith was her unicorn; her dreams her refuge. Though her life was short, her words outlived the cruelty that sought to silence her. Like Jasmin’s declaration, Anne’s story shows that sensitivity — far from being a weakness — is a form of moral strength, a defiance against despair. It takes far greater courage to believe in goodness than to surrender to cynicism.

Bhasin’s belief in dreams and dolls also speaks to the preservation of the inner child — that spark of wonder that once looked upon the world and saw possibility rather than limitation. Many lose it as they grow older, trading curiosity for caution, imagination for practicality. Yet the childlike spirit, untouched by bitterness, sees the divine in the ordinary — the sunlight through the window, the smile of a stranger, the quiet miracle of being alive. To believe in dolls is to believe in innocence, to remember that gentleness is sacred, and that love and beauty can still dwell in fragile things. It is a rebellion of purity against the tyranny of indifference.

The lesson in Jasmin Bhasin’s words is both tender and bold: do not be ashamed of your sensitivity. The world may glorify toughness, but it is the sensitive heart that creates, heals, and connects. To feel deeply is to live fully. Let others wear armor — you may choose wings. Let them scoff at dreams — you may build them. Protect your faith in goodness as fiercely as warriors protect their shields. For the world is not saved by hardness, but by kindness, by those who dare to love despite the risk of being hurt. Every great act of creation, every work of art, every movement of compassion, is born from such souls.

So, O listener, take this wisdom to heart: believe in your unicorns, guard your dreams, and cherish your dolls. Let your sensitivity be your strength and your imagination your weapon. The hard world may call you soft, but softness is not fragility — it is the mark of those who still see the sacred in the broken, who still hope where others despair. As Jasmin Bhasin teaches, to be gentle is not to be weak; it is to carry light in a world that often forgets the dawn. And when you live this way — with wonder, faith, and feeling — you will not just survive life’s storms; you will illuminate them.