In the heart of a country, where rivers flow like veins, my love was born. It emerged from the midnight coils of a woman’s plaited hair, where water and memory entwined. This skin, adorned with the hues of mango and Eastern sunrise, is not solely mine; it bears the imprints of toiling hands—the legacy of my mother and her mother before her, who sowed the earth with love. Glass bangles chime, weaving music through the air. They carry baskets of rice, lifted above heads full of rivers—rivers that flow not only with water but with stories, dreams, and the heartbeat … Continue reading Origin of Love and Home

In the quiet moments between heartbeats, I find solace. At 60, (almost 61) life unfurls before me like a cherished manuscript, each page inked with memories and dreams. The years have etched wisdom and osteoporosis into my bones, and I savor every breath as if it were a rare vintage wine. Perhaps it’s the awareness—the realization that time is both finite and infinite—that lends vibrancy to my days. The sunsets are more vivid, the laughter more melodic. I’ve learned to dance with impermanence, embracing the fleeting beauty of existence. Life, like a seasoned traveler, carries its own compass. It navigates … Continue reading Embracing Life at 60

In the cavern of my chest, a crimson sentinel stands guard—a heart forged from elastic steel. It beats with unwavering courage, defying the tempests that rage within my mind. Each pulse, a testament to resilience, a rebellion against chaos. Magnificent, indeed. But what of the thing in my head? That intricate machinery of neurons and synapses, where thoughts collide like celestial bodies in cosmic dance. It, too, possesses its own kind of bravery—the quiet valor of understanding, the audacity to question, and the vulnerability to feel. The red thing in my chest and the thing in my head—they converse in … Continue reading Resilience Unbound