A series in which I share some thoughts triggered by Brene Brown’s Daring Greatly.
Continued from Broken Wings (I) and Broken Wings (II) A week after her elder sister had been married off, he had forced himself on her.
Continued from Broken Wings (I) Raj and Meera were school teachers. They also conducted private coaching classes for which they used the old house where
She was a painfully thin girl. That’s the first thing I remember about her. The rest of the things I remember have mashed together into
The Earth has been called Mother. She is the symbol of patience, endurance and unlimited giving. She provides a static platform for the dynamic dance
“Don’t you hate her, the underhand, deceitful back- stabber!” “Don’t talk of her that way! No, I don’t hate her. Why should I?” “Do I
I had been married three years on that sultry June afternoon. Delhi and I had come to the conclusion that we couldn’t get along. We
Arvind stared at his mother in utter confusion. She went on talking rapidly, noticing his look and ignoring it deliberately. His brain seemed frozen. He
Have you noticed how language- centric we’ve become? There is such an endless stream of words in our lives. There is increasingly less personal, face-
ONE “Dad, let me take this summer job.” “What?! You’re just sixteen! People will think I can’t provide for my family.” “It’ll be good for
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