Until We Meet Again, My Beloved Grace

Grace (Gracie)

My sweet little Grace crossed the rainbow bridge today. I am absolutely devastated and still struggling to come to grips with the suddenness of her loss.

She arrived at our house on December 19, 2025. Although she stayed with us for just over 34 days, she left an indelible imprint on my heart and memories worth a lifetime.

I can never forget the moment she arrived at our house. My brother rescued her and brought her in, and immediately she jumped onto my lap and became comfortable. And then something special happened. She stared at me with her angelic eyes, without interruption, for one whole minute. It was the most beautiful, innocent, and priceless expression of love I have ever experienced. I kept asking her, “Why are you looking at me like that, sweetheart?” And when we finally broke our gaze after what felt like an eternity, I was so overwhelmed by her display of love that my eyes welled up. We created an instant bond that will last forever.

I affectionately called her Crazy Gracie because she was an absolute bundle of energy and chaos, and nothing was safe in her path of destruction. In terms of behaviour, she was more orange than most orange cats, and I loved her to death because of it.

She used to overwhelm Bowie, who is usually calm and laid-back, with her interminable energy and compel him to lash out at her. But she was fearless and made him run around the house in sheer terror. It was so entertaining to see Bowie, who has fought and defeated all the male cats in the neighbourhood, run for his life, chased by a kitten half his size. However, we knew he was humouring her, and deep down, he loved playing tag with her. Eventually, she wore him down, and they were on the verge of becoming inseparable. Unfortunately, fate had other ideas. I'm heartbroken for Bowie, who lost a dear friend and hasn't even realised it yet.

Bowie and Grace

Sleeping on my chest was Gracie's favourite place to rest. As soon as I sat or lay on the couch, she used to jump onto me and playfully bite my fingers, toes, or arms. After calming down a bit, her soothing purrs engulfed my heart and ears before she slowly drifted off to sleep. This was our routine every day.

Gracie and Me

I will fondly remember our playtimes together. She didn't need expensive toys; a neatly folded plastic cover held together with a rubber band was all it took to keep her occupied for hours. She was a clever girl who mostly made me run around the house and pick up her toys. It was almost as if she was playing me, and not the other way around.

Within a few weeks, she had become an irreplaceable part of our lives. But our happiness was fleeting. On January 19, she refused to eat her favourite creamy lickable treat, something she usually couldn't wait to eat off my hand. That night, she vomited multiple times and completely stopped eating food or drinking water thereafter. Over the next three days, we made several trips to the vet, who treated her for severe dehydration. On the second day, the fever had subsided, and the bile vomiting had almost stopped. However, she was still dehydrated and refused to eat or drink anything. My family and I tried everything to get her to eat, but our efforts were in vain.

Around this time, she started vocalising. They were neither her usual meows nor cries of pain. The haunting sounds she made are still ringing in my ears as I write this. It was almost as if she knew her time had come and was preparing us for the inevitable.

After the third day of tests and treatment, we brought Grace home. She started moving gingerly around the house. A mere six hours before her departure, she jumped onto the bed and slept on my lap for a few minutes. She then slept beside me for a while. I could see her struggling as she twisted and turned, trying to find the right position to lie down. Sometime later, she lay down next to my mother's feet, burying her face in her saree. Grace loved playing while curled up in my mom's saree. In hindsight, I believe she was saying her goodbyes.

At the stroke of midnight on January 23, she became completely disoriented, and her movements turned wobbly. We were absolutely shattered to see her in this state and broke down in tears. This spirited kitten, who ruled our hearts, climbed every window, curtain, and cabinet in an instant, and reached every nook and cranny of the house in a jiffy. Her energy was infectious and chaotic. It was devastating to see her deteriorate so badly in a mere three days.

Even though we knew she wasn't going to survive the night, we tried everything to hold on to her a little longer. At 12:50 a.m., I lay on the couch with Grace resting on my chest. As her breathing became laboured, she failed to respond to my reassuring words. I kept telling her to keep fighting. For some reason, I thought that if she survived the night, she might get better in the morning and start eating again. I was hoping a miracle would save my precious baby.

For forty minutes, I held her on my chest as she took her last few excruciating breaths. Her breathing pattern is still fresh in my mind: three to four fast breaths, followed by a big heave. In her final moments, her survival instincts kicked in, and she started kicking with her hind legs and made a running motion with her front legs. As this motion stopped abruptly after three intense seconds, her front paws hung briefly in the air. That image will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Immediately, I sat up on the couch while holding her. At exactly 01:29 a.m., Grace took her final breath and passed away gracefully in my arms. It felt as though my entire life came to a standstill for a fleeting moment. In the morning, we performed her last rites and cremated her at a local pet crematorium.

I love you, Gracie. Your brief existence made a profound impact on my life and left a huge void in my heart that will never be filled. Thank you for the memories. Rest easy, my baby, until we meet again!

Evaluating Team India's Defeat in Hyderabad

In the '90s and, to an extent, during the 2000s, the common notion—when India toured the SENA countries—was that we were poor travellers because our batters struggled on fast-and-bouncy pitches while their bowlers consistently bounced us out of contention. Our medium-fast bowlers were not up to the mark in threatening the opposition batters and were further hamstrung by the insufficient number of runs to defend. Agarkar's 6-for at Adelaide was a standout performance, and young Irfan and Ishant shone brightly on their debut tours. But these performances were few and far between.

The 2002 tour of England was a turning point. In the unforgettable Headingley Test, the legendary trio of Dravid, Tendulkar, and Ganguly showed the world that India could be competitive on fast-and-bouncy wickets and dominate the opposition. That series, and the tour Down Under in 2003/04, went a long way in dispelling the notion that we are poor travellers. It made us believe we can win against SENA countries on their home turf, irrespective of the pitches they prepare for the visitors. Since then, we have won Test series in Australia (twice), England, and New Zealand. And we have won multiple Tests in South Africa. It's only a matter of time before we win a Test series against the Proteas on their home turf.

 

Unlike the '90s and the 2000s—when we had just a Srinath or a Zaheer—we now boast of world-class fast bowlers like Bumrah and Shami, who can single-handedly destroy an opposition on a given day. To a lesser extent, Ishant and Siraj have been successful too. After Sachin and Dravid's generation laid the foundation in the 2000s, the next generation of batters built on that success to continue Team India's competitiveness in hostile batting conditions. Today, our top-order is more adept at playing the hook and pull shots. They can comfortably counter the short stuff unleashed by the Aussies, the Proteas, the Black Caps, and the English bowlers.

 

Although India has always been dominant at home, the pitch became a central topic of discussion in the 2010s and 2020s due to the rank turners that awaited the visitors. Ashwin and Jadeja bamboozled the batters and usually skittled them out in a session or two. The ball started turning a mile from the first session on Day 1, and the batters had no answers to the questions posed by India's world-class spinners. The matches usually ended in two or three days, which gave the opposition an excuse to blame their shortcomings on the pitches.

After a decade of domination on rank turners, Indian spinners are no longer destroying the opposition like they used to. In the recently concluded Hyderabad Test, the English players out-batted us and outshined our esteemed spin trio.

 

Just like the early 2000s, there is a paradigm shift happening at the moment. The overseas teams are adeptly handling Indian spinners on turning tracks and producing young spinners like Hartley, who recently delivered a match-winning performance. Based on statistics, Indian batters have struggled when facing pitches that offer significant amounts of spin. Therefore, if the opposing teams have high-quality spin bowlers, they stand a good chance of not only being competitive but also succeeding in India, as was demonstrated in the Hyderabad Test.

It remains to be seen if the outcome of the Hyderabad Test will have the same positive impact on England's performance in overseas conditions as the Headingley Test had on India's. If India fails to address the challenges posed by the visitors, it could result in a situation where overseas teams become strong enough to win a Test series in India consistently.

The Final Day of the Streak

Sadly, my amazing walking streak, which began on June 30, 2018, will be coming to an end. It was a tough decision, but it had to end someday.

From June 30, 2018, to February 24, 2023, I walked a minimum of 10,000 steps every day. Walking has helped me overcome various obstacles in the past five years and kept my Avascular Necrosis under control. The pain in my knees, which was at its worst in 2016, disappeared after I started walking actively. A recent X-ray showed that the deterioration in my hip bones has been minimal over the past eleven years.

I have always fought hard to not let pain define me. That's why walking and hitting my daily target of 10,000 steps means everything to me. Ironically, I am pain-free and at peace when I am walking.

Today, I completed 1,700 consecutive days of walking a minimum of 10,000 steps per day. It's a testament to my sheer psychological will that I have persevered despite numerous obstacles.

A few months ago, I started having respiratory issues that were diagnosed as Bilateral Ethmoidal Polyposis. Due to my medical history, I opted for Functional Endoscopic Sinus Surgery (FESS) instead of oral steroids. The surgery is scheduled for February 25th, and I will need to rest and recuperate afterwards, bringing my incredible walking streak to an end.

Although I plan on starting my second streak as soon as I am physically able, I am proud of my accomplishment and amazed by the longevity of the streak. Doing it every day for almost five years is no easy feat.

I wanted to create a new record to make the final day of the streak memorable. I have been trying to walk 10 kilometres in under an hour for over two years. Tonight, I achieved my personal best by completing my fastest kilometre ever at 6'14'' - four seconds faster than my previous best. Although I couldn't keep up the momentum and fell short of my personal best by almost four minutes, I am thrilled to have broken one record on the last day of the streak.

This marks the end of the most significant era of my life, during which I achieved incredible success in my personal and professional lives. I have never felt better—physically, mentally, emotionally, and psychologically.

Thank you, streak. ❤️

The Day of the Operation - Ten Years Later

Date: March 5, 2022

The wind played a gentle but gusty tune on a relatively quiet Saturday night. The dimly lit park, sparsely occupied by a few septuagenarians preparing for their evening walks, couples engaged in public displays of affection on park benches, and parents playing with their kids, created a unique ambience. For over a year, I had envisioned how this day would unfold, and I was mentally and physically prepared for it. Yet, a hint of nervousness lingered as I embarked on something entirely new—a challenge that, if successful, promised to make it one of the finest nights of my life. Conversely, failure would mean risking everything.

Exactly ten years ago, on this day, I endured the most difficult night of my life. Reflecting on the past decade, it's been a journey marked by both trauma and triumph—the initial half marred by despair, failures, loneliness, and chronic depression, and the latter half witnessing a remarkable resurgence of happiness and success.

In the early years of the decade, walking was a painful experience, limited due to the worsening condition of my hip bones. Despite utmost caution, the pain persisted, eventually affecting both my knees with Avascular Necrosis by 2016. Unexpectedly, a minor car accident four years ago, though aggravating the knee condition, served as a catalyst for me to break free from a sedentary lifestyle and embrace active walking. This significant development changed my life forever.

On June 30, 2018, I initiated my 10K streak—committing to walking a minimum of 10,000 steps every day. As of March 5, 2022, the streak boasts of a record-setting 1,345 magnificent days. I meticulously plan my walks and work diligently to maintain the streak. It is the most significant accomplishment of my life thus far.

Being an active walker for nearly four years now, I understand that the briskness of steps matters more than just the numbers. Progressing from eleven minutes per kilometre in 2018 to slightly over six minutes per kilometre in 2022, my journey has been both gradual and significant. To commemorate the 10th anniversary of my Core Decompression procedure, I set the audacious goal of walking 10 kilometres in under an hour—an endeavour fraught with challenges. Although I fell just over five minutes short of my target after surpassing my 10K records throughout 2021 and early 2022, it stands as a testament to my determination and perseverance.

A second ambitious objective was to complete a distance of 21.0975 kilometres in a single session—a Half Marathon. Until March 5, 2022, I had never walked more than 12 kilometres in one go. Acknowledging the risks of putting my hips and knees under such pressure, I embarked on a breezy Saturday night with the goal of etching this day in my memory forever.

During the Half Marathon, the pace was deliberately slower, gradually increasing as the race progressed. Guided by the inspiring music of the love of my life, I surpassed walkers of various age groups during the initial hour. By 9:30 PM, most park-goers had left, leaving me as the sole occupant.

After an hour and forty-five minutes, I realised this was the longest I had ever walked in a single session. The job, however, was far from done; nearly an hour's walk still lay ahead. The windy conditions spared me from profuse sweating, but fatigue set in. At the two-hour mark, having covered 16 kilometres, exhaustion was palpable. Yet, determined to overcome physical limits, I summoned every ounce of strength to complete the remaining distance through sheer psychological will.

The culmination of this marathon effort occurred after two hours and forty minutes—an overwhelming victory in the form of completing the Half Marathon. Waves of emotion swept over me as I reflected on the pain and disappointment of the past decade.

As the day concluded, fatigue and pain prevailed, but nothing could alter the fact that I had just lived through one of the greatest moments of my life.