From Munnar, With Love

What makes the perfect first blog post?

Is it when you find the right words to mirror every thought in your head?

Is it when you’ve picked the perfect topic, edited the perfect pictures and scheduled your content calendar?

Or is it when you’ve figured out how to make money off of it?

I’ve asked myself these questions more times than I can count.
Over the years, I started at least five blogs - each one reflecting a different version of me - and abandoned them quietly after a few posts. Not because I stopped caring, but because I’d grown out of them. The voice no longer felt like mine.
How could I decide my perfect first blog post this time? Most days, I can’t even choose a perfect picture to put up as a WhatsApp display pic. Either my double chin, double chins too much, or my hair doesn’t hair enough. The light falls oddly on my stomach, making it look like a paunch. Or the moment just doesn’t feel it.

I kept waiting to start my blog - for the first day of a new month, for the Monday of a new week, or the 15th of the current week. Or some other absurd seemingly ‘round number’. Waiting for the perfect time, the perfect mood, the perfect me.

And then, I found myself in Munnar.

Sitting on a wicker chair, watching the sun dip behind the misty hills, breathing in air that hadn’t yet been hurried or hacked by city life, I just whispered to myself:
“I hope I can keep making just enough money to afford vacations like these, simple joys to cherish, vast green lands where wildlife and I coexist, and love in abundance.”

And, right there, I knew I had my first blog post.

No perfect picture. No perfect plan. No fancy headline.

Just real, honest, and a little bit messy.
Like life. Like me. Like most of us trying to make sense of our travels, our work, our dreams, our not-so-Instagrammable days.

So here’s to beginnings that don’t begin with a bang.
To writing without knowing who will read.
To travel stories that don’t need filters.
To fashion that’s more about how you feel in your clothes than how they look on a grid.
To the unpredictable, imperfect, and entirely human journey of entrepreneurship.

Maybe that’s enough.
Maybe this is enough.

It’s not perfect.
But it’s mine.

Here’s to letting go of this perverse habit of chasing perfection.

Welcome to my world.
From Munnar, with love.