Girl with Prosthesis

This Baobab on Marve Road came from Madagascar centuries ago.
Brought by Arab & African migrants.
It became Mumbai’s heritage.

Today, it’s being “relocated” for a coastal road.
Like it’s a bench. Not a 300-year-old life.

World Environment Day question:
Why is “development” always about removing, not including?
Can’t our roads bend around our roots?

We exist because of trees. Not the other way around.
Protect the ones already here. 🌍

Tag .gim Ask them: WhyUprootHeritage?

This ant is me 🐜

Carrying something way too heavy.
Stopping. Starting. Refusing to quit.
And I couldn’t help but wonder...

Is she stuck on this thing?
Or is this just life — you take what you get and you move it toward what matters?
Or is this just what life handed her — so she’s moving it anyway?
Or Maybe she doesn’t see it as “heavy.”

*Maybe heavy isn’t the point, Purpose is.*

How many times do we drag things that feel too big for us?
A goal. A responsibility. A dream. A past version of ourselves.
We stop. We breathe. We keep going.
Not because it’s easy.
Because it’s ours to carry.

I constantly struggle to bring good foot fittings, improve my lifestyle, strive to earn well, develop skills to be more and more independent, run the lady of the house show, befriend people to be social and so much more!

So here’s to the ones carrying heavy things right now.
You’re not crazy for not putting it down.
You’re not weak for finding it hard.
You’re an ant. And ants build entire worlds. 🐜

**You’re not weak. You’re building.**
**One inch at a time. ✨**

What’s your “heavy thing”?
What are you carrying that feels too heavy today?
Drop it below. Let’s carry it together for a minute.

Throwback to 2017 ✨

I danced gracefully.
And watching this memory now feels unreal.

This was me at .mehta30 ‘s sangeet sandhya practice. Choreographed by .mehta.2006. The music started and my body just… knew what to do. Every step, every turn, every expression — I felt so alive, so free.

I look at this video and think: “Was that really me?”

Because right now, my foot has gone for a toss. Life changed. Mobility changed. And dancing like this feels like a dream from another lifetime.

But dreams don’t die. They wait.

I will dance again.
On my foot.
With my expressions.
With every gesture that refuses to give up.

Maybe it won’t look the same.
Maybe it’ll be even more beautiful —
because it’ll be a dance born from grit, not just grace.

To 2017 me: Thank you for showing me what I’m capable of.
To future me: I’m coming for you. One step at a time. 🦿💃