There is a question that arrives late at night, after the screens have gone dark: *Did I actually live today, or did I merely display it?* This essay reflects on the quiet exhaustion of the curated life, the arithmetic of comparison that was never fair to begin with, and a mended sari that taught me something my mother had always known: the cracks were never meant to be hidden.
Colorful Status, Black and White Life Read Post »
There are questions we never ask out loud. Death is one of them. This poetic essay is an attempt to look it in the eye — and find, not fear, but a door.
Death Is Not the End. It’s a Door. Read Post »
Some words make it all the way to the lips — and still don’t leave.
This poem is about the love that was real, the closeness that kept
slipping away, and the conversation that never found its moment.
A quiet meditation on longing, forgiveness, and the words we carry
long after the person is gone.
My Words Never Reached You Read Post »
A woman walks a sandy path toward light. Behind her, an open cage. Ahead, a door in the clouds. This poem is that walk — through silence, confusion, and the quiet truth that to keep moving is enough.
The Search: An Inner Journey Read Post »
