ShradhaGiriblogs

My precious Photo: Shradha Giri Last night my nine-year-old and I held hands and cried. We then laughed and then cried again. This isn’t something we normally do – our daughter, our precious one who was quiet for a change sat still, listened to what I had to say. The thing is, I have decided to change my career at this age and it is creating a ruckus which I didn’t think of earlier. I guess no one thinks through until the day one starts working on the decision. I decided a year and a half ago that I would invest in a school. Both my husband and I danced at the idea one idle weekend. We didn’t think of the distance - 500km. A year and a half spent running to banks, local ward office and to tax departments, the deal was done. Just like that with considerable amount of loan on my shoulders, I became a part of the system where I have always wanted to make a difference. I spent the past two weeks in my new role and I was baffled by what I observed (I also spent a few nights c