“I’ve always been someone surrounded by people. Growing up in a big joint family, love came in abundance – grandparents who pampered, uncles who were like second fathers, aunts who were more like friends, and cousins who made both the chaos and the joy unforgettable.

I didn’t really have to look outside for friends; my home was full of them. Those years shaped me, curved me, and taught me what warmth truly feels like.

But life, as it does, took a sharp turn once. I had a severe backbone issue that left me bedridden for nearly six months. Simple things – walking, carrying a school bag, just moving – became struggles I had to relearn. I still remember how my family rallied around me, treating me with extra care and making sure my world stayed full of laughter despite the pain.

It was a long recovery – physically and mentally – but it also became my turning point. That phase taught me resilience and gratitude. I realised that even when life puts you on pause, you can always restart, stronger than before.

And somewhere along the way, I began seeing life through a softer lens. The people, the small gestures, the smell of filter coffee in the evenings – everything started to mean a little more. It reminded me that comfort isn’t always grand; sometimes it’s in the quiet company of those who love you, or the familiarity of a city that holds you even when you’re at your weakest.

Through it all, one thing never changed – my love for Chennai. This city has always been home. It’s where my grandmother’s house still feels like a time capsule of my happiest days, where my school corridors echo with laughter, and where every street corner carries a memory.

No matter where I go, I’ll always flex about being from Chennai – because for me, this city isn’t just home. It’s the heartbeat that’s stayed constant through every rise, fall, and beginning.”