A pre-dawn conversation between me and my wall — on fear, leadership, and the courage to think big. It was too late to sleep and too early to be up and about, but I was captivated by the beautiful silence only the pre-dawn brings. As I gazed out of
My Wall and I
It's 5 AM and I'm sitting alone in my room, looking out at the quiet city. The streetlights below are covered in a light mist, and a few lights are visible in the buildings across from me. Intermittently, a couple of dogs bark, maybe breaking the
Some mornings don’t begin — they unfold. As I step through the black wrought-iron gates and onto the circular driveway of Steve’s old bungalow, the world seems to exhale. The air here feels heavier, slower — the kind that remembers. Built in the British colonial era, the house wears
Rusty is Steve's dog. He is more than 13 years old now - and behaves appropriately, like an elderly gentleman. Steve tells me he had come across this small puppy on one of his runs, and the puppy had followed him home - that was 13 years back. Since then,
Reflections
The first is wrapped in night; the second, bathed in light. Between them — a lifetime learning what it means to arrive. The first frame: I’m standing outside a hospital on a clear, but impossibly dark night. The air hums — charged, uncertain — as if it knows something momentous is about