A humming word

  Dear Reader, You don’t know me, nor do I know you. But let me tell you where I come from. I come from a land of emotions. I am in my thirties and I run on emotions. My parents are in their late fifties and they ran on obedience and emotions. My late grandparents ran on roles and obedience and emotions. And it continues. Also, we are emotional about the things we care. Be it painting or coding. We treat our work as life, at times. Somewhere the work and life gets too intermingled to even have a balance. And, writing helps. It helps the emotional fool within us to navigate the path of life, often guided my numbers and hours. Our emotions don't know numbers. But writing about it is a sign post for our hours and days. We are not machines to be guided by the northern lights of numbers. We are human to be nurtured by art. But can we organize that? We can try!  In 2007, I started writing poetry, in August, when our city Hyderabad, known for harmony, suddenly became the epicen...

Often the deepest friendships are formed when you are a child. But busting myths is the right of every individual. And, we have done it too.  Met at a workshop, Divya Murarka, is a friend and a sister, now. Over the past two years I have learnt to understand her and myself, through her.  She befriended me at a very different stage in my life. In 2019, I returned to India from the US to take up a job and pursue life again and that's when I met Divya at British Library. A starry-eyed woman with a manuscript written for parents and a hope that the MS document would turn into a book with a beautiful cover and a spine. It was February 2019. While I promised to edit it, I was still unsure.  Her confidence stirred into me and I began editing on my way to work, every day. I found beauty, honesty, truth and more importantly, a purpose in her writing. While the book, like Hyderabadi Haleem, was taking its own sweet time, Divya and I met for Sphagetti, Coffee, chai and spoke about a...