I reached Hyderabad in the early hues of morning, the city slowly awakening as I made my way to my 3BHK apartment near DLF. The place, though mine, echoed with the quietness of solitude, a stark contrast to the bustling warmth I had left behind. My apartment was a minimalist's haven – functional, with just a few pieces of essential furniture, each holding its own unspoken story.

In the kitchen, where only the most basic ingredients found their home in the fridge, I decided against cooking. The thought of preparing a meal seemed too cumbersome, my mind still lingering in the memories of the familial feasts. Instead, I opted for the simple comfort of ginger milk tea, its aromatic warmth a soothing balm to my travel-weary soul.

Tea in hand, I wandered to the spacious balcony, where the cityscape stretched out before me. The balcony, with its lone chair, offered a quiet refuge. As I sat down, the chair creaked slightly under my weight, a familiar sound in the still morning air. I slowly dipped sweet biscuits into my tea, the comforting ritual bridging the gap between my two worlds. With each bite, the sugary crunch mingled with the spicy warmth of the tea, creating a symphony of flavours that momentarily subdued the pang of nostalgia.

Here, in this small, serene corner of my world, I allowed myself a moment of reflection. The bustling streets below stood in sharp contrast to the tranquillity of my balcony, a metaphor for the dichotomy of my life – the solitude of my existence in Hyderabad and the chaotic warmth of family life I occasionally dipped into.

After a contemplative moment on my balcony, I rose and headed to the en-suite bathroom of my master bedroom. The bathroom boasted a modern design, replete with luxurious fittings – a personal oasis that reflected the suite-like elegance of my bedroom. Post a rejuvenating hot shower, I dressed in a crisp formal shirt and pants, preparing for the day ahead.

Descending to the basement parking, I slid into my BMW X7, its mineral colour gleaming under the fluorescent lights. The drive to my office, located just across DLF, was short yet filled with the busy morning energy of Hyderabad.

My office, occupying an entire floor in a commercial complex, was a testament to years of hard work and a little help from my friend, Sharad Mathur. Together, we had embarked on this venture, a bond forged during our days at IIM Gandhinagar, where we shared not only the same hostel wing but countless aspirations.

Upon reaching the office, I headed straight to Sharad's adjacent room. Without knocking, I entered to find him engaged in a phone conversation. "Okay, I will come early for Krishna’s birthday," he said, his tone affectionate. I sat quietly across from him, not wanting to interrupt his call with his wife Akhila Reddy, daughter of our major investor Srinivas Reddy.

As Sharad ended his call, he greeted me with a warm smile. "You're just in time for breakfast," he said, motioning towards a spread of South Indian delicacies. The aroma of dosas and coconut chutney filled the room, inviting me to partake in the meal.

While savouring the breakfast, Sharad proposed, “Let’s wrap up our work early today. We need to shop for Krishna’s birthday gifts and return gifts for his friends. You remember it’s today, right? You must come.”

I replied with a teasing smile, “Don’t tell me you forgot the gifts again. What kind of father does that make you?” Sharad shot back a playful glare. “You left, and I was swamped with work, you ungrateful person.” I laughed, assuring him, “Okay, bro, I’ll help with all the arrangements.”

Efficiently, we focused on our work, wrapping up ahead of schedule. Exiting the office, we exchanged brief greetings with our employees before deciding to take my BMW to Sarath's City Capital Mall, commonly known as AMB Mall. There, we dived into different stores, selecting toys and chocolates as return gifts, immersing ourselves in the joyful preparations for the celebration ahead.

After a contemplative moment on my balcony, I rose and headed to the en-suite bathroom of my master bedroom. The bathroom boasted a modern design, replete with luxurious fittings – a personal oasis that reflected the suite-like elegance of my bedroom. Post a rejuvenating hot shower, I dressed in a crisp formal shirt and pants, preparing for the day ahead.

Descending to the basement parking, I slid into my BMW X7, its mineral colour gleaming under the fluorescent lights. The drive to my office, located just across DLF, was short yet filled with the busy morning energy of Hyderabad.

My office, occupying an entire floor in a commercial complex, was a testament to years of hard work and a little help from my friend, Sharad Mathur. Together, we had embarked on this venture, a bond forged during our days at IIM Gandhinagar, where we shared not only the same hostel wing but countless aspirations.

Upon reaching the office, I headed straight to Sharad's adjacent room. Without knocking, I entered to find him engaged in a phone conversation. "Okay, I will come early for Krishna’s birthday," he said, his tone affectionate. I sat quietly across from him, not wanting to interrupt his call with his wife Akhila Reddy, daughter of our major investor Srinivas Reddy.

As Sharad ended his call, he greeted me with a warm smile. "You're just in time for breakfast," he said, motioning towards a spread of South Indian delicacies. The aroma of dosas and coconut chutney filled the room, inviting me to partake in the meal.

While savouring the breakfast, Sharad proposed, “Let’s wrap up our work early today. We need to shop for Krishna’s birthday gifts and return gifts for his friends. You remember it’s today, right? You must come.”

I replied with a teasing smile, “Don’t tell me you forgot the gifts again. What kind of father does that make you?” Sharad shot back a playful glare. “You left, and I was swamped with work, you ungrateful person.” I laughed, assuring him, “Okay, bro, I’ll help with all the arrangements.”

Efficiently, we focused on our work, wrapping up ahead of schedule. Exiting the office, we exchanged brief greetings with our employees before deciding to take my BMW to Sarath's City Capital Mall, commonly known as AMB Mall. There, we dived into different stores, selecting toys and chocolates as return gifts, immersing ourselves in the joyful preparations for the celebration ahead.

Glossary

Dosa A dosai is a thin savoury crepe in South Indian cuisine made from a fermented batter of ground black gram and rice.