To beat the pressure, I started gardening. I did research on what to plant, at what time, and learned a lot.

I prefer not to call our conversations “sessions.” They are just casual chats with a young person who once poured her heart out to me.

This life is mine. I realized, only if I stay well will I be able to ensure the wellness of my family, friends, and community.

Apparently her relatives and some well-meaning community members had interpreted her turmoil as “the overreaction of a newly married girl,” and sent her back to her husband.

Terms like lockdown, quarantine, and social distancing have become the common parlance.

“You can tell us any story, but we won’t let you take the girl away from here,” another villager said.

I faced lot of humiliation and bad words because she was my relative, as if it was her fault. There were even attacks on social media.

Collecting and sharing the stories was not just another task for the studio, but a way I chose to keep myself afloat and nourished.

By the time we reached my dad, his condition had deteriorated, and his blood oxygen saturation level had dropped to 70%.

It was time for all of us to reflect and work on a different strategy.

As I entered a deserted airport around dawn, an emptiness loomed.

She said, “Oh yes, the jamun is very important– it decides the quality of the final product.