You never know when and where Belief can begin: it could grow out of individual darkness, rise out of a loud laugh, or just happen during those eternal chores. It could happen in that thud of betrayal, in that pandemonium of aloneness, in that irrelevance scribbled in haste. You can never know.

To me, Deep Blue Ink just happened. I woke out of a dream and walked straight into it.

It has been more than a year since it all began in an apartment in California. It has not always been bumpy, there have been wonderful moments, there's been agony, there's been lessons.

My seven hours with sex workers was my only lesson in Destiny - they did not choose their wombs, Fate could have played dirty with me too; the soft-spoken prime minister in whose presence even my faint heartbeat pounded like chaos; the Begum in a crumbling palace caught in a dreadful time warp; that night near the Golden Temple when I let faith grow in the subsoil. Sedulously.

In between, there has been the Me growing out of pigtails and accepting the first strand of silver in my long hair; the giggles that now don't necessarily come when I beckon them; the Faith that got seared by its own vulnerability; the eyelids that stand guard while the eyes wait...