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 ...
My son had just won the documentary-making competition at Life in Mayoor School. We were watching this for the nth time on the laptop. It was sheer fun watching it again and again. My son clicked on the project folder and opened the list of projects he had created for the cultural week and annual functions at school over the years. They varied from short stories to informational projects to movie trailers and documentaries. Watching this all reversed the time clock for me. Every project had its own story, enthusiasm, excitement, excellence, our fights, and, above all, togetherness. We always had our ups and downs doing such things. I could hardly do what my children could do on the computer. I was their constant companion with suggestions on how what they were doing was shaping up and what would make a difference. Sometimes my suggestions were considered, and at other times, rubbished. We all worked very hard in our spheres to do our best, they on the technical side and I on the emotio...