writing
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There are moments in life that arrive quietly, without announcement, yet leave behind a deep and lasting echo. Yesterday was one such moment for me. I met a dear friend of mine—someone I deeply respect—not just for his professional achievements, but for the way he carries himself as a human being. I’ll call him KY.…
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There is a certain silence that comes with age. Not the peaceful kind you find in temples or early mornings, but a quieter, heavier one—the kind that sits beside you and asks questions you avoided answering when life was louder. At forty-five, I have started noticing that silence more often. It comes to me in…
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In the span of four years, I lost two friends.Not just friends—anchors, protectors, the kind of men who filled a room with laughter and made you feel that nothing could go wrong as long as they were around. Som… and now Piyush. And somewhere between their laughter and their silence, I am left with one…
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Few months back, I attended a professional get-together. It was one of those evenings where everyone looked accomplished, conversations floated in clusters, and most of us were strangers politely navigating introductions. I stood there, holding my glass of wine, smiling at familiar strangers, feeling that subtle social hesitation we all feel when we don’t quite…
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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 have waited for the right time more often than I can count. The right time to speak.The right time to reach out.The right time to say, this is how I feel about you. So many moments of my life were spent holding something precious inside me—something tender, fragile, and alive—because I was afraid that…
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We were sitting in silence in my balcony , and sharing a cup , when he finally spoke. “You know,” he said, not looking at me, “some stories don’t end when the case ends. They just… settle inside people.” I looked at him. After all these years, he still knew exactly where to press. “You…
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I went to his office for work. That was the plan. Nothing philosophical, nothing profound—just a regular professional visit. His office, perched high above the city, reflected everything he had built: expansive glass walls, immaculate desks, screens glowing with data, assistants moving in and out with purpose. On paper, it was the definition of achievement.…
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I used to think ageing was about lines on the face, slower mornings, fewer nights out. Nobody told me that the real ageing happens quietly — inside the heart — in the way emotions soften, deepen, widen. Today, when I look back at the woman I was in my twenties and early thirties, I don’t…
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I never imagined that a tiny bulge between two vertebrae — L4 and L5 — would one day bring my entire life to a grinding halt. I had always been the woman who managed everything. Targets, operational work chaos, PhD research deadlines, client escalations, flights between cities, spiritual pilgrimages, friendships that needed holding, family expectations…
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