For the last year or so, Aryan has been driving me around most of the time in his car. Today, he suddenly asked me to come with him on his bike, a Svartpilen 401. I sat behind him. As we moved through the traffic, I occasionally held him when he braked. Nothing unusual about that, except that it suddenly took me back many years. There was a time when Aryan used to sit behind me or stand in front of me. His little hands would go around my waist and hold me tightly whenever I slowed down. Sometimes he would fall asleep, completely trusting that I would get him home safely. I don't remember how many rides we had together, but I remember that feeling. Today, I was sitting behind him. And he was the one taking me home. It is strange how children grow up. There is no announcement. No particular day when you suddenly realise that the little boy you carried has become a man. It happens in small moments. You notice it when he starts driving instead of you. When he starts giving you directio...
I believe in stories…and I am sharing mine