With music videos becoming a popular form of content these days

Tulsi Kumar, a singer whose voice has touched countless hearts, once declared: “With music videos becoming a popular form of content these days, I am thankful that Is Qadar has also found a place in the hearts of the viewers as well as on the top chartbusters.” These words, though spoken of her own work, carry a wisdom beyond the world of music. They are a testimony to the power of gratitude, the endurance of art, and the mystery of how a creation finds its way into the souls of others. For the artist does not command love; she offers her song, and it is the people who choose to receive it.

The origin of this statement lies in Kumar’s journey as a musician in the modern era, where music videos are no longer mere companions to songs but often the very vessels that carry them to the world. In such a competitive space, where countless voices strive for attention, the success of a piece like Is Qadar is not guaranteed. That it reached both the charts and the hearts of the listeners was not merely a triumph of production, but a gift — a resonance between artist and audience, born of honesty, beauty, and timing. Her gratitude is the humility of one who knows that no matter the labor behind the work, its reception lies in the mystery of human connection.

History too reveals this truth: consider the works of Mozart, who composed tirelessly, yet could not always control which pieces would endure. Some works that he valued deeply were overlooked in his day, while others rose swiftly into the hearts of the people. Or reflect on the poet Emily Dickinson, who in her lifetime was largely unknown, her verses hidden away. Only after her death did her words find the place they deserved, shaping generations. Both examples show us what Tulsi Kumar acknowledged: that the success of art depends not only on the labor of the creator but on the embrace of the audience.

At the core of Kumar’s words lies the sacred truth of gratitude for recognition. The artist pours out soul, energy, and vision into a work, yet it is never certain whether it will flourish or fade. To be thankful when it is received is to honor both the creation and the listeners who breathe life into it by making it part of their own stories. Gratitude keeps the artist humble, and humility keeps the art pure.

To the youth who dream of creating — whether in music, in writing, in invention — this teaching is essential: give yourself wholly to your work, but do not demand glory. Work faithfully, with discipline and honesty, and if your creation finds its way into the hearts of people, receive it as a blessing, not an entitlement. For the love of the people is not owed; it is freely given, and thus it must be cherished.

To those who consume art, music, and stories, there is also a lesson: your embrace of a creation has power. When you carry a song in your heart, when you share it with others, you elevate not only the work but also the spirit of the one who created it. In this way, the audience becomes part of the sacred cycle of art — the bridge that carries a song from the lips of the artist into the immortality of memory.

The eternal wisdom here is this: art lives not only in its making, but in its receiving. Gratitude binds the creator to the listener, and humility preserves the beauty of that bond. Tulsi Kumar’s words remind us that in every song that rises to the top, there is more than talent and effort — there is also the mystery of timing, the gift of audience, and the blessing of shared human feeling.

Thus, let the teaching be passed down: create with honesty, receive success with thankfulness, and know that true greatness lies not in numbers or rankings alone, but in touching the hearts of those who listen. For in their hearts, your art finds its eternal home.