In these twelve years of marriage, as far as my memory stretches, my husband has never once told me what he wanted to eat. Never asked for a special dish. Never made a request. But on 10th February 2026 , something changed. For the very first time in twelve years, he said he wanted to eat green gram gravy. And I don’t know why… but it felt so incredibly special. On one hand, I was already running out of ideas about what to cook. And on the other hand, this man — the man I love so deeply — had finally asked me to make something just for him. There was no grand celebration. No dramatic moment. Just a simple request. I hurried into the kitchen with a smile I couldn’t hide. I prepared the green gram gravy with extra care, and for a change, I even made urad dal rice — something I was trying for the first time. The entire process felt different. Warm. Meaningful. Personal. It wasn’t just about cooking. It wasn’t just about food. It was about being needed. It was about being asked....
I am someone who loves celebrating my birthday. As a child, it was exciting. But after becoming an adult, it became something deeper, a day I consciously set aside for myself. A day where I felt special. A day where I allowed myself to enjoy the little things that make me happy. But in August 2025, my birthday carried a different weight. On the 28th, my father-in-law passed away. It was one of the most devastating moments of my life. He was not just an elder in the family; he was my guide, my guardian, someone whose presence anchored us all. His last rites were planned for the 29th. My birthday. I was shattered. I was grieving. I felt lost. Gowri Athai was with me throughout. She picked me up from the Chennai airport, brought me to Cuddalore, and took care of me like my own mother. In that moment, when I had lost someone so significant, she became my quiet strength. Even while I was mourning, my phone kept lighting up. Friends and relatives were calling and messaging to wish me....