It is strange how our lives can contain remnants of others' that we remain completely blind to. Sri Aurobindo and The Mother have been present in my life in many ways that I never noticed, or rather never showed a curiosity for even if I picked up on these things - tiny packets of 'Blessings' tucked into my wallet by my mother, my late grandfather's library that has an entire room dedicated to literature on Sri Aurobindo which we summer-break-visitors would momentarily gawk at before our child-like curiosities took us elsewhere, the many opened-unopened newsletters and pamphlets from the Ashram strewn all over his house in various stages of scrutiny and abandonment, the cashew candies my grandparents brought back for us kids from their annual visits to Pondicherry, the Sri Aurobindo Center that they operated from the first floor of their house. So many links that went unnoticed came into the light when years later, us kids-but-kids-no-more visited Pondiche...
I write about games, film, TV and books - all works of art that move me in some way.