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The first word to come to me in these seven weeks is ‘Connection.’ My tiny little brain first thought of this word when I knew what my ‘mom’ is to me. I remember looking at her and wondering how I came to be with her in the house, how she loved me so dearly, how I was chosen to be her little girl. My dad’s affection to me and my grandfather’s love all made me wonder even more. What is this ‘connection.’ And with the birth of my brother – I began to love this word and take it very seriously, we – my family and I, are ‘connected.’
Over the years I have pondered a lot about ‘connections.’ How I came to meet the loveliest people on earth, how someone very different from me suddenly became so dear to me, how I made connections across borders, across timelines through the books I read and strangely made connections with inanimate objects – the little sleeping doll my parents got me, connections to places – Kakinada beach where I spent the most memorable Saturday evenings, my grandfather’s house that I see in my dreams even to this day…
It is this word ‘connection’ that re-affirms my faith in destiny. I believe it is all destiny – the books we read and the people we meet.
The one small co-incidence that amused me greatly was when I first realized my ‘connection’ with the world – when two Austrian boys and two English girls made friends with each other on a train in the heart of China and the first thing they talked about is ‘Me’ for both parties knew me. It blew me away.
A lot of ‘connections’ have been made since – deep and tight. I feel blessed to bask in the beauty of my connection with the dragon fly in the garden just as I am amazed at the fact that the person who calms my mind at tough times is a person I met only once (by chance) and is thousands of miles away.