The story behind the author

When I was a kid, I always kept a small mirror on my desk.

Not for makeup or anything like that—it was just... there.
While I read, while I did homework, while I doodled in my notebooks—it sat in front. Reflecting me. 

Watching me back.

I didn’t realize it back then, but I think the mirror made me feel seen.
Like someone was sitting there, quietly saying,
"You're here. You're doing something. Keep going."

Looking back, I think that mirror was the first witness to the stories I didn’t even know I was telling yet.
Long before I called myself a writer.
Long before I had characters like Meru or Sia or Veer.
It was just me, my books, and that tiny mirror.

Now, years later, I write books for kids who are figuring out their place in the world—
kids who feel too much, dream too big, or maybe don’t always feel seen.

And in some way, I think I’m still doing the same thing.
Still showing up.
Still trying to write something true.
Still leaving a little space for someone to look in and say:
“Hey… that feels like me.”

I didn’t know it back then, but that mirror?
It was teaching me what I’m still learning:
That stories are how we see ourselves.
And sometimes, how we find our way home.