For most of the year, this Kanchanar tree outside my window stands quietly — almost blending into the chaos of the city.And then, just for a week or so at the beginning of summer, it transforms. This afternoon , when I looked out of my window, the branches were suddenly bursting into soft pink blossoms… Read more

(But Never From a Parent’s Heart) The house feels empty. Not silent — empty. The dogs and the stillness move from room to room, as if searching for the laughter that just boarded a flight. After ten magical days of noise, chaos, hugs, late-night conversations, and morning shouts of “Maa!”, the kids have gone back.… Read more

One hand full of stories…One hand full of dreams….Between silk sarees and tiny braids,between experience and innocence,a silent promise is exchanged —that“We belong to the same roots.” In those small held handsis curiosity, admiration,and a love that needs no introduction. Family gatherings quietly bridges time.In these small treasured moments of happiness…love learns its own legacy… Read more

Bittu had been asking me to attend this reunion — the grand old KV ASC/JLA one. I wasn’t very sure. Life had already started feeling a little fossilised… and honestly, what was I even supposed to talk about? God’s sake, now my daughter too is out of school and married. What will I do there?… Read more

Army Day meant little to me today—until my Mausa ji stood at my door.Eighty-one.Upright.Wearing a grey coat with red stripes,I’ve known all my life.I complimented him, casually.And suddenly, his eyes sparkled.This is my IMA sports coat, he said—lookFootball, 1969.Basketball, 1969.Neatly inscribed on front pocket along with logo . In that moment,those weren’t numbers—they were memories… Read more

This morning…after days of fog-heavy winter silence, sunlight finally finds my face—gentle, unhurried, almost apologetic. A cold breeze moves through my hair,and somehow that contrast makes the warmth feel even more precious. I lie on the charpai,eyes closed, doing nothing at all—just feeling. Sun on my skin..Breeze in my hair…A lazy Sunday unfolding slowly. Nearby,… Read more

The only place where IST—Indian Stretchable Time—doesn’t work is where my foundation was laid. I grew up in the fauj. So 8:00 pm never meant 8:00 pm. It meant 7:45.pm And if you reached at 8, you were already late. Sixteen years in the Army— not a lifetime, but long enough to permanently wire punctuality… Read more

Another year quietly settling into memories,…another arriving with hope and faith in its eyes. Are we celebrating what’s ending,….or the courage it takes to begin again? This year held many versions of me— from the stillness of a MahaKumbh eye camp to my first trek, to my first solo journey. A year of saying no… Read more

A piece of my heart now lives continents apart. As I sit at SFO International Airport, saying bye to my babies—Gauraa, Matthew… and my two four-legged shadows, Joey and Rocco—I can already feel that familiar ache settling in. The mind has begun its return journey to India: long OPDs, surgery lists, patients waiting (and reminding… Read more