These stories were born from the everyday - from the murmur of rain against tiled roofs, the rustle of sarees in dark kitchens, and the faint laughter that fades before it reaches the heart. In every home, I found an untold story - sometimes heavy with memory, sometimes light as the scent of curry leaves. This collection, Footprints in the Monsoon Mist is not about grand events or heroes. It is about the un-celebrated - the woman waiting by the window, the old tailor mending time, the daughter who lights her lamp though no one watches.
Each story reflects a small truth of life as it unfolds in quiet corners - effort has been to echo that honesty without imitation, to find my own rhythm in the same silence. I hope these stories remind you that gentleness is also strength, and that the smallest whisper can sometimes echo the loudest.
These stories were born from the everyday - from the murmur of rain against tiled roofs, the rustle of sarees in dark kitchens, and the faint laughter that fades before it reaches the heart. In every home, I found an untold story - sometimes heavy with memory, sometimes light as the scent of curry leaves. This collection, Footprints in the Monsoon Mist is not about grand events or heroes. It is about the un-celebrated - the woman waiting by the window, the old tailor mending time, the daughter who lights her lamp though no one watches.
Each story reflects a small truth of life as it unfolds in quiet corners - effort has been to echo that honesty without imitation, to find my own rhythm in the same silence. I hope these stories remind you that gentleness is also strength, and that the smallest whisper can sometimes echo the loudest.