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There has never been a time in my life when I felt something was so private that it couldn’t be shared with others. There was never any “quality time” that was exclusively mine. Had there been, it would have been easier for me to prepare a solid script of my own life. Whenever I recall the past, certain moments flash before me—moments that played a decisive role in bringing me to where I stand today. Sometimes I ask myself, “Was there ever a time that truly belonged only to me?” What I do see clearly is the all-encompassing and unbreakable influence of my family and society. To capture all of this, thousands of pages would be needed. So what does that mean? Perhaps I am like a theme whose script has already been written by someone else, and my only role is to follow it. The point is quite clear. And yet, playing merely the actor in a play or a life written by someone else feels like a wound to my sense of self. Happiness and sorrow come as a stepwise chain. But when sorrow and time turn you into someone you yourself would never wish to become, it is not just unpleasant—it can be excruciating. Whenever I look back on those moments, I shiver. Just thinking about them sends chills down my spine. And the situation I am in right now is no less chilling. This journey is being completed in two parts. The first installment is in your hands; work on the second is already underway and will be out soon. In this book, you will find things you have never seen or read before—boundless thrill and top-quality content guaranteed. — Manish Dubey 📧 jailjournalism@gmail.com