Some stories are written.
Some stories are lived.
I write about the things we carry, the lives we leave behind, the people we become, and the stories that stay with us.
About the Author
A LITTLE ABOUT ME
Many homes, one story.
I was born in India, into a family that valued education, discipline, and quiet resilience. I come from Coorg / Kodagu, a green, misted stretch of hill country in the south, known for its coffee and its fierce, particular pride. Some of my earliest memories are of childhood summers spent there: red coffee berries drying in the sun, the smell of rain on estate soil, tables that never seemed to empty of food or family. I didn’t know it then, but those roots would follow me everywhere I went next.
At twenty-something, I moved to Denmark – a place with a language I didn’t speak, a culture built on restraint, and a version of winter I wasn’t prepared for. I spent seventeen years there. I built a career in transformation strategy, working across global industrial and technology companies, learning how to lead change in rooms where I was often the only one who looked like me. I built a family and learned to make a home in a language that still wasn’t mine.
Somewhere in those years, I also became other things nobody puts on a resume. I painted, mostly for myself. I modeled, for the joy of being looked at differently than I looked at myself. I hosted parties that took weeks to plan and lasted one loud, candlelit night. I started a food blog – My Culinary Saga because I missed the food of home and found that writing about it brought me closer to it than cooking it alone ever did. Coorg found its way onto that blog too – it’s where most of my food memory begins.
None of these were side projects. They were the ways I kept finding my own light in rooms that didn’t always have space for it.
Then Toronto happened – a third country, a third language of belonging to learn, a third time starting from what felt like nothing. And somewhere in that unmooring, a story that had been circling me for years finally landed: an owl who has watched centuries pass, and a firefly born into a forest where time moves differently, falling in love anyway.
I still don’t know how to be just one thing but I’ve stopped trying to choose between them. I carry all of them forward, the way I’ve carried every home I’ve ever left.
A Few Things About Me
- I am endlessly curious. I like learning things simply because I don’t know them yet.
- I believe creativity doesn’t have an age limit. We don’t outgrow the things that make us curious.
- I love creating. Words, food, experiences, ideas, beautiful things and occasionally a little chaos so I can bring structure to it all.
- I believe starting again is underrated. It’s not always failure. Sometimes it’s growth wearing uncomfortable clothes.
- And I believe everyone has a story. Maybe yours is the one someone needs to hear.
About the Book
Wing & Wick –
A fable of love and letting go.
Some stories begin with an idea. Some begin with a feeling. This one began with a story that wouldn’t leave me alone. An owl who has watched centuries pass. A firefly born of the forest's own light. A love that was never in question - only whether it could stay.
About the Book
Every night, when the forest holds its breath, an owl waits on a weathered bench above the sea. One night, a single wandering he finds light – a firefly drawn to the darkness, though she was never meant to stay. In a world that keeps darkness and light apart, they find something neither expected: a love that asks for nothing but presence. He asks nothing of her light but to witness it. She asks nothing of his darkness but to rest within it. But some love stories are not measured by how long they last. Wing & Wick is a luminous literary fable about two unlikely souls who meet, fall deeply in love, and discover that loving someone can sometimes mean learning how to let them go. A story of love, longing, timing, sacrifice, and the quiet ways in which one can leave light behind in another.
INSIDE THE BOOK
Why I Wrote It
I didn’t set out with a grand plan to become an author. I simply had a story I wanted to tell. And somewhere between the first page and the last, writing became much more than putting words together. It became a way of exploring people, emotions, relationships and all the complicated spaces in between.
There is always something deeply personal about putting a story into the world. You write it alone. And then, suddenly, it belongs to the reader. That’s both terrifying and wonderful.
A Note to the Reader
Thank you for picking up my book.
Whether you know me personally or you’ve simply stumbled across these pages, I hope you find something here that stays with you. I hope my words can cross any distance and still touch your heart.
A thought. A feeling. A character. A question. Perhaps even a little piece of yourself.
Happy reading.
– Trupti
PRESS & MEDIA
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