The day a cab girl in red taught me the lesson of letting go of situations and people.
It was a rainy afternoon in Dehradun, and I was supposed to meet a publisher for my new book. You know how it is when you’ve poured your heart and soul into something—it feels like your baby. This book wasn’t just a project; it was my journey, my thoughts, my life on paper. So you can imagine how important this meeting was to me.
That morning, I woke up confident and ready. Everything was planned down to the last detail. My manuscript was neatly packed, my clothes were perfect, and I had even rehearsed what I was going to say.
But life had other plans.
First, my alarm betrayed me, and I woke up 30 minutes late. Then, as I rushed out, I realized I’d forgotten my umbrella. The skies decided to punish me for it, opening up with a downpour that soaked me in minutes. By the time I reached the main road, drenched and flustered, the traffic was unbearable.
I managed to get a cab—an old white Alto driven by a young woman, maybe in her mid-20s. She greeted me with a bright smile as I slumped into the back seat, clutching my manuscript like it was my lifeline.
“You seem stressed,” she said,...
That morning, I woke up confident and ready. Everything was planned down to the last detail. My manuscript was neatly packed, my clothes were perfect, and I had even rehearsed what I was going to say.
But life had other plans.
First, my alarm betrayed me, and I woke up 30 minutes late. Then, as I rushed out, I realized I’d forgotten my umbrella. The skies decided to punish me for it, opening up with a downpour that soaked me in minutes. By the time I reached the main road, drenched and flustered, the traffic was unbearable.
I managed to get a cab—an old white Alto driven by a young woman, maybe in her mid-20s. She greeted me with a bright smile as I slumped into the back seat, clutching my manuscript like it was my lifeline.
“You seem stressed,” she said,...