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 ...
Disclaimer Whatever plagiarism may be only in the name of the title, this journey has little to do with the sad details of the migrant population. It is my perspective of the world today and its problems. I had been a regular traveler between Delhi and Ajmer after my father passed away, not realizing eight hours would fly away so soon, leaving me wishing Ajmer never came. A regular on the Garibrath Express from Delhi to Ajmer, I preferred to carry my shawl and pull it over me in the AC compartment of the train right at the beginning of the journey only to get up at Jaipur, just a few hours away from Ajmer. It helped me spend an arduous journey in relative tranquility and time to recover to resume my office in the evening. While I made myself comfortable in the side berth of the train, a family of four, husband, wife, son, and daughter, settled in the adjacent berths; the other two belonged to an elderly couple. Their conversation made me realize this elderly couple wa...