Some stories are written to entertain and some stories are born from the spiritual journey taken by us in our lifetime. But it takes a lot of self-searching, questioning every decision taken, every path chosen for it to become a spiritual journey from it being simply a journey. Such stories inspire us, they guide us and they make a home in our heart and mind forever to guide us when the needs arise.
And one such story that inspired me was of the author Aabha Rosy Vatsa, whose autobiography The Gift of Life I recently read. Every turn of the page had something in store for me. I wouldn’t say that this book was perfect in every sense. No. It had many errors, even the narrative felt lose at some places and yet the story told was beautiful in a vulnerable sort of way.
While reading this book that was spread across five decades of Aabha’s life, there wasn’t a single moment that felt like I shouldn’t have read this book; I gained only. I learned, I connected and related even with her journey that covered Punjab, Allahabad, Zambia, Chandigarh, New Delhi, and Faridabad. However, though, her story was wrought in pain, loneliness and spirituality.
In addition to this beautiful story, what really interested me in the first place was these beautiful poetries, verses and musings that accompanied the beginning of every chapter. Gave more context to the story. Inspiring, is the only word, I can sum up the entire book The Gift of Life into by Aabha Rosy Vatsa.
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