Last weekend, my little soul sister from Chennai,  a colleague turned friend and family, and constant in my journey visited me in Delhi.  

The last time I left Chennai, it was bittersweet. I had spent most of my time between the BMT unit and her home. As I was leaving, she said, “You go, Prathipa… I’ll follow you in March.” And she kept her word.

We didn’t go out much or explore the city, instead, we did what we loved the most, what mattered most! We spent quality time together. We cooked, played games, watched movies, slept in, and worked together in our cozy little space, just like old times. It felt like I had never left home!

Back then, it was the doctor’s room/the OPD,  a space where we weren’t just colleagues, but collaborators, support systems, and cheerleaders for one another. That room which we were forced into,  that became our comfort zone. That space held so many memories; it became our home, and we witnessed it all - long work hours: 7 am to 7 pm, patient stories, birthdays, even my farewell.

Last week, when I got to be a small part of a new proposal while she was here, it truly felt like I’d never left.

There’s a special kind of joy in remaining connected to the BMT Unit, the place where my passion took root, and where I personally grew as well. So whenever any BMT Coordinator reaches out with questions, or the team sends me a video of children playing with the toys we once introduced together, it fills me with joy. It reminds me that the work we did truly made a difference and continues to do so, even now.

She’s two years younger than me, yet incredibly driven and passionate. Watching her grow, both personally and professionally, is something I deeply cherish. She’s someone who’s shared in my journey with zero ego and only encouragement, a rare kind of friendship built on respect, love, and growth. I admire not just who she is, but who she’s becoming.

Personal takeaway?

True connections don’t fade with time or distance.  

Professional takeaway? 

• Beyond job titles and to-do lists: The best teams aren’t built just on skills, but on shared purpose, mutual admiration, and trust.
• Impact outlasts presence: Even after leaving Chennai, the work still lives on, in the initiatives we co-designed, and in the conversations I continue to have with the team. Legacy doesn’t always come with fanfare, sometimes, it’s quiet, consistent, and lasting.
• Learning has no hierarchy: She’s younger than me, but I’ve learned just as much from her, about resilience, innovation, and how to stay grounded. Growth truly happens in both directions.

Beyond our work, we still bond over other little things, like our favorite cup of strong black coffee (no sugar, always!).

And her visit came at a special time, close to six months into my new role at Cankids. Half a year in, and the journey is just beginning. It was scary stepping into this role, but I feel the growth unfolding. I couldn’t be prouder of myself for taking this leap, and for everyone who encouraged me to say yes. Change is scary. But you grow beyond what you imagine.

When I joined, I thought I’d be focusing just on health communication, advocacy writing, and a bit of PR. But here I am, unexpectedly handling general media communications for a PAN India organization. I’m still figuring it out (honestly, struggling sometimes), but I’m getting there. And, yes, I’m still honing my understanding of palliative care and mental health advocacy for the long run… learning as I go, from the incredible people I meet. I’m thankful for the opportunity. Thankful for the journey. 

Today, as I gave her a warm send-off back to Chennai, I felt the need to share this, as a reminder of the beautiful relationships that shape both our personal and professional journeys. Here’s to those meaningful connections, and to the incredible women who lift each other up. After all, it’s us, we’ve always got each other.  

Goodbyes are never easy, but perhaps that’s their gift,  they remind us of what’s truly worth holding on to.

Here’s to passion, purpose, and the people who make it all meaningful. 

Thank you, Sorna. Like I always say, I’m proud of you!