Rebuilding, MCA, work, financial independence
I kept trying to photograph the yaksha. Every time I pressed the shutter, Devi appeared instead. It took me a while to understand that she had been there all along — and that I had been dismissing her because she was not what I came for.
After eighteen years of relocations, motherhood, caregiving, grief, and putting everyone else first, I began tracing the quiet thread back to myself — through writing, memory, and the parts of me that never fully disappeared.
I believed in the straight line. Graduate, work, build, grow. Life had other ideas — and it took fifteen years of starting over across three countries to understand that the detours were never wasted.
