Writer. Editor
Memories. Aww. Memories. I am, more often than not, swamped in the pool of nostalgia. I love memories. I love looking back at life and pondering over what it has given me and what it hasn’t. Going down memory lane is an exercise that can be energising and exasperating. Nonetheless, it’s something I believe that has to be done. After all, a person’s history, however small, is sure to be filled with moments of happiness and moments of pain, serving as a perfect reminder of how life is nothing but a blend of the two all the time.
Musings on childhood led to this story of an English girl. Spring and an English setup seemed to go hand-in-hand when I thought this story up. And when you find just the right kind of picture to complement the story, it all seems perfect – just like the childhood that we unfortunately leave behind in the process of growing up.
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Places. Memories. If there’s one place that I have experienced freedom in the truest sense, it is Bombay. I lived there for a few months and it turned out to be one of my life-altering phases. When I returned home for good, leaving the city behind, I couldn’t help feeling empty. And as always, I resorted to words to relieve the burden.
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