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PAIN TO POWER - Coach Bhawana

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From Breakdown to Breakthrough

Some books don’t start with answers. They start with silence, the kind that lingers in sleepless nights, in waiting rooms, the kind that follows loss, the kind that shapes strength, in moments that shift your entire world. Pain to Power by Bhawana Malik feels like one of those books.


Even the title doesn’t flinch. It dares to place two opposing forces side by side pain and power and then builds a bridge between them. There’s something raw about it, something real. No masks. No sugarcoating. Just a lived truth, offered with grace.

This isn’t a book about ideas. It’s a book about energy. The kind that rises slowly after you’ve been knocked down. The kind that doesn’t shout, but holds its ground. That kind of power. Quiet. Earned.

 

A Voice That’s Walked the Path

When you see the name Bhawana Malik on the cover, it doesn’t just read “author.” It reads “someone who’s been through it.” And there’s something deeply comforting about that.


You get the sense that this is not just a story, it’s a process. Not just a personal journey, but a reflection of so many untold ones. The kind we live behind closed doors. The kind we survive without telling anyone.


Books like this don’t come from a desire to write. They come from a need to speak.

There’s no pretense here. No polish for the sake of performance. Just a woman turning toward her own life, offering it not as a spectacle, but as a map. A guide for those who find themselves in the middle of a storm, looking for their next step.

 

Not Just a Book—A Companion

Pain to Power doesn’t sell transformation as a destination. It doesn’t promise that life becomes perfect. What it seems to do instead is much more important: it gives permission. Permission to grieve. To fall apart. To begin again.


The cover is stark. No frills. No ornaments. Just the heavy contrast of two truths—pain, and power—suggesting a crossing, a shift, a before and after.


And maybe that’s why this book feels necessary. Because it doesn’t look away. Because it says: you can carry both. The ache and the ascent. The heartbreak and the healing.

For anyone navigating grief, identity, or quiet reinvention, this book stands like a silent hand held out in your direction. It doesn’t pull you. It doesn’t push. It simply stays. Present. Steady. Kind.

 

Final Thoughts

There are books that you race through. And then there are books that ask you to slow down : to sit with them. Pain to Power is one of those.


It doesn’t need applause to matter. It matters because it’s true. Because it offers what so few things do in the middle of a hard chapter: companionship.


In a world that’s always asking us to move on, Bhawana Malik’s book does something quietly radical, it asks you to sit for a while. To feel what you’ve avoided. To gather strength not by escaping your story, but by owning it.


And if you’re someone who’s standing on the edge of something difficult, this book might not change your life in an instant. But it might help you believe, just enough, that you still can.


And sometimes, that’s all we need to begin.



 
 
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