At Stranger’s Grave

An Elegy For What Has Not Yet Come to Pass

Dear Readers,

The first essay of the Nilgiris series is already prepared for publication, but I want to hold off on sharing it for another day because today, I wish to share my stream of consciousness. I often do not allow myself to write from a place of vulnerability; I am too protective of my inner space and guarded against being too soft or emotional. So, reaching this point where I could allow myself to flow between the pen and paper, between you and me, was a long journey, and you enabled me to walk it with courage. I am grateful to exist, to be able to write, and to you for reading through my stories and experiences in this world. They may mean nothing in the grand scheme of things, but you care, and I care that you do, and that means everything to me. For that, I thank you.

Many years ago, on cold winter evenings like this particular one today, my father would sit us down with one warm tumbler of malted milk and delve into vivid details, almost re-enacting the strange encounter…