My new colleague here in Bangalore has bought a paperback copy of my debut novel “Alona’s Quest for the Golden Tree”, not caring about the shipment costs, excited about holding a novel I had written.
Her excitement reminds me of who I am, at the core. It is a needed reminder. I keep forgetting, bit by bit, what truly matters.
10 years ago, I had written this novel. Alas, this book has been mine. But somehow, it no longer is. Instead, it’s a braver and more resilient version, the one who refuses to be silenced, the one who refuses to be forgotten. Ultimately, the one who continues to dream.
Today, my own creation is so much wiser than me.
May this be a reminder that the younger version of us never truly disappear. What we have created then will continue to be meaningful, even years into the future. No art, then, is ever wasted.
Read it here.