family
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“What matters is not the meaning of life in general but rather the specific meaning of a person’s life at a given moment.” — Viktor Frankl I have been thinking about Nepal since 26 August 2026. Not just thinking about the floods. Thinking about life. About how fragile it is. About how, in a matter…
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Somewhere between the woman we were and the woman everyone expected us to become,there is a quiet space where our own voice still waits.Marriage can hold two hands together,but it should never tie two souls to the same identity. It was one of those evenings when four women sat around a table, with half-finished cups…
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At 45, after watching marriages around me, listening to countless stories, and quietly observing families, friends, colleagues, and even my own journey through life, I have arrived at a conclusion that may sound controversial. I no longer believe marriage is failing because people have stopped believing in love. I think marriage is struggling because we…
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At 46, when I look back at the girl I was at 22, I do not see immaturity first.I see innocence.I see conditioning.I see a young woman trying very hard to become “a good wife” before she had even understood what safety in love was supposed to feel like. And these past few days, while…
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I still remember the day I made that hiring decision. It wasn’t a day of confidence. It was a day of pressure. The position had been vacant for weeks. Targets were quietly accumulating into a silent accusation. Every morning review reminded me not of what we had achieved, but of what we hadn’t. Numbers don’t…
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I don’t remember when my life stopped belonging to me. Maybe it happened the day I took my first corporate job.Maybe the day I got my first promotion.Or maybe the day I convinced myself that running was the only way to survive. In my adult life , every day morning started the same way—the alarm…
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Today morning as I sat in my quiet apartment, my hands trembling as I sipped on a cup of tea that had long since gone cold. My thoughts raced back to the moment I received the call from my father last Friday. It had been a typical day—work deadlines, meetings, and the humdrum of daily…
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Self-Forgiveness Two years back on my 42nd birthday, as I sat alone in my favourite corner of the coffee shop, staring at the delicate pattern of froth on my Irish coffee and its beans. The usual throng of well-wishers and obligatory birthday messages had come and gone, leaving me in a state of uneasy contemplation.…
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