I’ve always been good at hiding things.In boardrooms, on presentations, in cold hotel lobbies waiting for clients—I could wear corporate mask well. 43, single, working in a stable job, traveling often for work. People saw discipline, a quiet confidence. What they never saw was the child within, the longing that never left me.It had always been there, since I was a boy: this deep, unexplainable yearning to feel small in the arms of a taller, bigger woman. To be picked up, held against a soft, strong chest… cradled like I was precious. Safe.And that is the reason I'm still ...Read More

“Let’s see how many ways I can carry my chhoti si gudiya,” Nandini said with a mischievous grin.Before I respond, she shifted me effortlessly over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry. My body bounced gently against her tall, broad frame as she laughed and walked around, pretending to parade me.“Too light! You feel like my dupatta,” she teased. “I bet I can carry you while doing squats!”And she did—slow, deliberate squats while keeping me perched on her shoulder. I let out a helpless laugh, hanging on as she grinned.Then she flipped me down again into her arms and transitioned ...Read More

I woke to the sound of her breathing. Not mine—hers. Deep, steady, like a tide I could drift on. cheek was still pressed to the curve of her shoulder, her dupatta tucked around me like I was something fragile she’d been asked to guard.“Good morning, chhoti si gudiya,” she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep. Her arms, which had never loosened all night, tightened just enough to remind me I was held.I blinked, the room still dim. “You… didn’t put me down?”“Why would I?” She shifted, sliding her legs off the side of the cane chair, and in ...Read More