A message to all my readers When I first began writing down my stories in this quiet space, it was nothing more than an open diary. A place to put memories that needed somewhere to rest, reflections gathered over a lifetime, and thoughts that felt too personal—or perhaps simply too ordinary—to share in conversation. Conventional wisdom often suggests that personal musings rarely accomplish much on the wider internet. There are no frameworks here, no quick advice, and no polished agendas. Just the raw textures of life as I have experienced it: the sudden turns, the quiet routines, the moments of doubt, and the steady work of beginning again. Recently, as a small corner quietly crossed 30,000 reads, I paused to look more closely at the numbers. What moved me was not just the milestone itself, but where those visits were coming from. While some readers join from home here in India, so many of you are reading from entirely different corners of the earth—from Singapore across the seas ...
Journey of children’s life from infancy to adulthood is marked by many milestones. The years pass by and they begin to spread their wings to fly leaving behind them a few memories. As I dusted the old “Scrabble” I remembered my younger son saying “It is not interesting to play scrabble with you any more”. “Why” I queried his reply was pert “because you play to lose”. It is always very difficult to keep the children involved during summer vacations when you want them to be engaged, creative, constructive and disciplined; managing all these fronts is where you need to show your talent in. This is where the scrabble fitted in very well for me. Day after day for hours and for years we played scrabble. Initially I would be the mentor to both of them. I sometimes made exceptions to continue the game taught them to make words so that it would not come to a dead end. Being older I was the inevitable winner and I always managed to hide my excitement about my winning status. It was a logical con...