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 ...
Yet another day of waiting and long queues. I briefly looked at the chiller of a shop at the lounge and stared at the menu on display for breakfast. I collected the bottle of Bisleri and moved out to settle on the bench that was probably there just for me. I busied myself by calling family and informing them of my schedule (arrival and departure). I was enjoying my Solitary Reaper status till an old lady made herself comfortable near me. My grey hair and thin build attracted her to me as she thought we were the same age and could be great companions. Hence, a conversation struck between us. She divulged the secrets of her aches and medical problems one by one and enquired about mine. You are a dentist, that too, my daughter's age said the bewildered woman. I got busier with her queries. She was now even more comfortable and asked me to run and buy her a Bisleri. I offered her mine; she refused because of her fast. I towed my luggage back and forth along with her water bottle. Obser...