PARTS OF ME EVERYWHERE

I look happier when I’m by myself.
My skin is clearer, my smile maybe a little brighter.
Outside, I glow.
At home, the glow dims —
maybe it’s the weight of family,
all the memories that press down like soft stones.
But family also keeps my feet on the ground.
They are the reason I can reach.
That strange balance —
between staying and soaring,
between roots and air.

In Mumbai, I built a life.
I built a practice.
I cooked, I danced,
I painted, I spoke out loud.
But outside, I remember
looking in the mirror
and finally seeing myself.
Not the girl under pressure,
not the one just surviving.
But the one in her skin.
Whole.
Here.

Still, there is no one way.
Only the bitter and the sweet.
But I carry both now —
and I know what it means
to rise,
to return,
and to keep choosing myself
everywhere I go.