Seasoning this mundane, humdrum existence with food, travel, and the written word.

Sometimes, don't you wish people would call you and tell you all the exact things you always wanted to hear? I grew up imagining that life would somehow always be a fairy tale, even if it's in a small way. Of Prince Charmings whisking you away on their noble steeds, of magical worlds where witches and evil queens met their doom, of cute woodland creatures with their perfectly almond-shaped eyes singing merrily, of gallant empresses slaying dragons on mountain tops. I, now, kn ow that our world can be painfully real. Nothing is permanent. Happily ever after is a devastating concept, because we take the very things we chased after for granted. Time is a funny, cruel prankster. Where it heals all wounds, it is also capable of blurring out the vitals. Maybe endings are elemental to us humans, it's a constant reminder of what's most important. Right here, right now. Maybe there's such a thing as a happy ending. And that life is nothing, but a strand of happy endin

Fine, I'll tell you where my strength comes from. It comes from a warm, strong core of selflessness, the grit and grime of people who've taught me lessons I desperately needed to learn. Each one of you who has taught me something about life, about myself has been an invaluable teacher; and I thank all of you for bestowing me with life's tough, but necessary education. A child's first teachers are always his/her parents, and you've taught me that  there can be beauty in imperfection too. To always put your heart and soul into everything you do. And to still be able to love myself, thank you. And the teachers who saw potential in me even on those drought-striken days when I couldn't muster another step forward. For calling me your betting horse, thank you. You'll always be my silent guideposts. To those doctors/professors who taught me that it's okay to be strong and weak at the same time, that trembling hands can also mean responsibility towards your pa