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I have lived my life on my own terms. I have explored my own paths, caring not for the ways of the world. I had come across many evil persons in life. In sheer innocence, I suffered from betrayal by many a man, but I have never fallen prey to regrets and repentance in life. It was my own life, my own decisions. Now when my third book is under publication, many changes have taken place in my life; I have a lot of pain and many regrets within me.

The greatest pain of my life is the untimely demise of my beautiful young daughter, Saveena, who I could not save from the clutches of death. Sometimes my soul curses me that I could not be a good mother to save my daughter from the pain of death and that she left me for a distant, unknown world.

Another regret in my life is that I could not be a good daughter to my mother, who kept on begging for a visit to her village home for twenty-odd years. When she was in good health, she took care of her grandchildren and virtually served in the houses of her son and daughters. As her health deteriorated, the houses of her son and daughters appeared to be alien to her, and she started longing for her village home. She began to complain, and often, she was be angry. But she was helpless. The grand houses of her children looked strange to her, but her failing health prevented her from going to her own home back in Punjab. And toward the end, she was admitted to a center for old people, where she passed away, leaving me utterly helpless.

After the demise of Saveena, I had only two options—to either spend the rest of my life weeping and crying or face life with courage using a pen. I do not write for fame; it is a kind of therapy for me. When I am expressing myself in words, Saveena and my mother appear before me. The closest relationship in the world is that of a mother and her daughter—I am devoid of both them today, but I feel they are providing me with inner strength to move on. Perhaps it is the suffering from their loss that gives me the courage to smile.