my origin
arc.

born into a bihari household, named after the hindu goddess who mothers all other gods. big shoes to fill before i could even walk. and 5 years later, my sister was born and i had a pact with the doctor that no matter what happens, i will be the first one to see my sister.

growing up wasn't easy. my household was loud in ways that homes should not be, and quiet in ways that they should never be and sometimes speaking felt like walking on eggshells. my parents loved us the only way they knew how. imperfectly, but completely. i watched my father go to work in torn socks and my mother sacrifice her wants so we would not have to. they never asked for gratitude. they just showed up.

being the eldest daughter after consecutive sons in the family meant i spent a lot of my childhood quietly proving that girls could hold things together too. so, i did. i held things together. i didn't demand, i didn't complain, i just got on with it.

and when the world got too loud, i blasted music loud enough to drown it all out and picked up a new hobby to keep my hands and mind busy. then another. then another. what started as distraction became a way of life. always learning something new, always making something, always moving.

the girl who collected hobbies to cope became someone who just genuinely cannot stop building things.