Moving

New Places and wet towels

By |2023-05-01T08:22:10+00:00May 1st, 2023|Writing|

I blamed my age. I turn 29 soon, and I told myself that the country-hopping and digital-nomading had run its course. I wanted to settle, dammit, a word I had scorned all my life. And I wanted it now, with my airfryer, and I wanted no arguments. Because I said so. I don't have children, but I had turned into an Amma.

Leaving

By |2023-04-07T20:05:24+00:00March 1st, 2023|Musings|

Leaving is heart wrenching, but then I suppose this is the price we pay for opening our hearts. For falling headfirst, no landing plan, no safety gear. For allowing ourselves to be consumed. For loving.

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