The COVID pandemic......we were all in it, the entire world. It was surreal but it happened. There was isolation, pain, tragedies and fear. It had become quiet and in that silence, I wrote about all that I felt and saw around me and on ‘breaking news’ updates. The migrants' exodus, the graveyard-like stillness, a claustrophobia of being shut inside, caused us all a lot of anguish and heartache. When we finally emerged, I continued writing and penning poems. I had changed, I think we all had changed. I became, very emotionally aware of my surroundings. For many, who live in this struggle called 'life', the pandemic was just another episode in this formidable game called survival. They come from all walks of life......the poverty-stricken, differently-abled, transgender, mentally challenged, women who battle with their souls, between right and wrong, so that they can stay alive. The homeless vendors at traffic signals and so many more people of indomitable will, carrying deep scars from a life in poverty. I put my feelings down on paper as a tribute to these determined and fearless men and women who continue existing, enduring, against all odds. There is a wistful beauty in old homes and ruins, fractured by the passage of time. I wonder what stories and mysteries are buried in their bricks and broken waIls. I put down my sentiments, my feelings, on this and more in my book of prose and poems, 'We are braver than we know’