It’s been three weeks since we moved to Vadodara. Every morning since, I’ve unknowingly built a quiet ritual—coffee in hand, eyes on the sky, watching planes take off from Vadodara Airport, which I can see clearly from our balcony. There's something calming about it. Hopeful, even. A small moment of stillness as the world begins to move. But today… today was not like the other days. Around noon, news broke about the Air India crash at Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel Airport, Ahmedabad. And everything I felt in those quiet, breezy mornings shattered into something heavier, more fragile. It’s strange how suddenly a routine can take on new meaning and how quickly something comforting can start to feel ominous. My husband used to be a frequent flyer to Ahmedabad in the months before we settled down here. I was right there at that same airport with my dad and daughter, barely three weeks ago. I still remember my first visit to Ahmedabad and I wasn’t particularly excited. It felt temporary. ...
When I was in class 6, we had a weekly library period where we could pick any book to read. Simple, right? Well, not for me. The shelves were stacked with fiction books filled with words that looked like hieroglyphics to my young brain. I struggled to make sense of them, and honestly, I felt like a lost tourist in a foreign land. Desperate for a solution, I approached my librarian and poured out my book-related woes. She listened, nodded wisely, and handed me a few books she thought I would understand. And guess what? I actually did! That was the turning point in my reading journey, though at the time, I had no idea it would become a lifelong love affair. I don’t even remember her name now (sorry, ma’am!), but she always picked books for me, and I devoured them. That’s how reading became my hobby! From my grade 6 struggles to now, I’ve evolved into a much more mature reader. Just like my diary has been my best friend , books have been my ride-or-die companions, and I never miss a chanc...