Gayathri N S

It has been  11 years  since I lost my mother to lung cancer, but time has not lessened the ache. They say grief fades, that wounds heal—but no one tells you that some voids remain, untouched and unfillable. I was just  her only child , and she was my world. My mother wasn’t just a parent; she was my safe space, my storyteller, my biggest cheerleader. Now, every milestone, every triumph, every heartbreak feels incomplete because she’s not here to witness it. When I got my first job, I longed for her proud smile. When I faced struggles, I craved her comforting words. On birthdays, I imagined her warm embrace.   Even small things—a favorite dish, an old song, a scent—bring back a flood of memories that I can’t outrun. My  father  carries his own quiet grief, and I see in his eyes the same loneliness I feel. We both learned to live without her, but some nights, I wish I could just sit beside her, hold her hand, and tell her about my day—like I once did, l...

For years, I kept telling myself,  “One day, I’ll start a blog.”  It was one of those things that always stayed at the back of my mind—an idea I loved but never acted upon. I would jot down my thoughts, write short stories, and even draft blog posts in my notebooks or on my phone, but they never saw the light of day. Life kept happening, and I kept postponing. But today, that  one day  has finally arrived! After all these years of procrastination, overthinking, and self-doubt, I have officially created my own space on the internet—a place where my words can breathe and my thoughts can flow freely. The process of setting up the blog was surprisingly exciting. Choosing a name, playing around with themes, and finally seeing my page come to life gave me a sense of joy I hadn’t expected. It felt like opening the door to a long-awaited dream. Now, as I type this first post, I feel nothing but happiness. This blog is not just a platform; it’s a promise to myself—to write mo...