When I was growing up my grandmother (my nani jee) firmly believed that I would be the one who would make name for family legacy. She believed it so much that an eight year old me decided that I deserved no less than a national holiday on my birthday in times to come.

Though that still remains an inside joke of my house, somewhere growing up I lost all hopes of building the family legacy through my efforts and any mention of my towering future success often frustrated me.

I believed the stories were just ways for my grandmother to infuse that harmless motivation that we often indulge kids in.

And thus started a cycle of aiming low. Real low. And taking solace in achieving the dismally insignificant milestones.

But I was happy. I had built my own world of saying no to new ideas and things. I was keeping myself above failure and the heartbreak that follows usually.

But who was I to do so? The universe conspired. Sent me an idea that threatened to push my risk taking abilities. I started believing until it reached a point that turned my doubts into affirmative actions. Sleepless nights followed by anxious days and immensely tiring work travel but the results made up for everything and more.

This baby today, turns three. Three years of building one thing after another – taking steps that seemed huge for me but completed with little help from universe and loads of support from community.

Today when I look back and see how much we have travelled, how each day our efforts of building a better community – a greater online space for those out there – it overwhelms me.

And also scares me. But now I know there is no stopping. Because this is no longer my story, this is no longer my journey to decide. It is but a collective conscious of hundreds of those bloggers out there who connect on #Blogchatter to discover their own thing. It is now their call to take whether this plot continues or stops for good.

My failure or success isn’t mine to shoulder anymore. And believe me, this is the most wonderful thought of last three years.

As for my Nani jee, I do not know if my success can carry my family name or legacy, but I do believe – I shall never let her name fail. Because this gift of storytelling that I use to sell dreams, is hers and only hers to me.

Shashi Kala Shukla shall never not be known to the world out there – the greatest storyteller I ever met.

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