I am a living book!
There are moments in life that some of us quietly push away. Childhood can be one of them. They are memories we do not fully understand at the time, yet they stay with us lodged in every cell of our body, growing with us, shaping us, and sometimes, derailing us.
Concept of parents
As a child, I was brought up by a loving couple. At the time, I did not understand the concept of parents.
Only later did I begin to notice something different. They were older than the parents I saw around me, but I cared for them deeply, in my own quiet way. At school events, my friends arrived with much younger couples.
Slowly, questions began forming in my mind. I found out the meaning of ammamma and ammachan — the Malayalam* words for grandmother and grandfather.
Around the age of seven, my grandmother took me on a long train journey. After two days, we stepped off at a busy station. Through the steam and noise of the locomotive, a young couple walked toward us.
My grandmother bent down and whispered, “These are your parents.”
I felt nothing. Not then. Not since.
From that moment on, a quiet search began. A search for the stories, for the emotions, or perhaps for the absence of them.
When I turned sixty, both my parents passed away within a year of each other. The emotions I thought I never had suddenly erupted. I broke down. Thrice, before I was able to manage it. The stories I had carried in silence, the stories that lived in every cell of my body, that grew with me and shaped me burst out like a torrent.
It took me sixty years to begin understanding my childhood.
The stories we tell ourselves have immense power. Power to change us for the better. And if we are not careful, for the worse.
We process ourselves through our stories. That journey, of speaking the unspeakable, naming the unnamed, and sitting with what we have long avoided, is how healing begins. It is how we change. And it is why telling your story, to anyone willing to listen, matters more than most of us realise.
I kept my story to myself for most of my life. Now, I am ready to tell it. Openly. Honestly.
And what better place than the Living Library?
What is the Living Library?
"The Human Library® is a place where real people are on loan to readers."
The Living Library is rooted in a global movement called the Human Library® founded in Copenhagen, Denmark, in the year 2000. The concept is simple and quietly radical: real people become books on loan. Visitors “borrow” a Living Book for a short, personal conversation, not to read words on a page, but to hear a life lived.
The concept was a success, and many Human Libraries (the original name) sprang up in different countries. The Town of Ajax has embraced it under the name Living Library, and I think that name suits it beautifully. These are not archived stories. These are living, breathing, still-being-written ones.
Listen to my story
On Saturday, April 18, 2026, I will be one of those Living Books at the Age-Friendly Ajax Living Library, held at the Audley Recreation Centre from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.
My story is titled: 60 Years to Understand My Childhood.
Come and listen. Talk to me. You may even find a little of your own story somewhere in mine.
Pre-registration is recommended to secure desired Living Book titles. Drop-ins are welcome, but the availability of specific Living Books in not guaranteed.
Notes: * Malayalam is the ethnic language of Kerala, India.
Tell Your Stories. In Your Words.
Start with the voices and sounds that ricochet in your mind. Get it out there on paper, record them on your phone. Check out some of the stories below.
I am a storyteller. I dig out stories, give them a voice, write them, design them, and communicate them. Through digital and print mediums. Connect with me to bring your stories to life!