To the loving memory of Natasha who was one of the most creative and genuinely artistic people I’ve ever known and whose example showed me that I, too, could actually express myself in any way possible.

To my soul friends scattered all around the world: those I have already crossed paths with and those I am yet to meet.

I think our souls really rejoice when we get to truly connect with another human being.

Although there are billions of people on this planet, we don’t get to see most of them because we’re not supposed to bond with all of them on a meaningful level. And it could be for various reasons which don’t necessarily mean that most of these people are bad for us. It only means we are not supposed to and cannot click with everyone.

We’re all very different, we all have different personalities that are not compatible with everyone around us. And it’s fine. It’s even great because it makes those instances when we recognize “our” person, creating that first thread of connection between us and another human, so much more special. Moreover, way too often these special moments don’t happen in grand settings but rather they are very fleeting, and if we don’t pay enough attention, they may pass us by without leaving any trace in our life and memory.

However, if and when we are mindful, suddenly a word, a scar, a smile, or an image bursts something bright in us into existence. This is pure magic to me. A second ago we might know next to nothing about this person but then BOOM! – we’re bound for life: as life-long friends, as a student and a teacher, as lovers, as travel buddies… We may not even realize it yet – or ever at all – but there’s a powerful invisible thread of energy, of instant recognition, of love and trust woven between our hearts and our eyes.

Even though we then have to leave this cozy bubble, we immediately KNOW in our heart of hearts that we’ll meet again. And again. And when there are enough threads between the two of us, we’ll feel this desperate strong need to stay close to this person for as long as possible, to nurture this budding connection, because it’s PRECIOUS and RARE. Surely, we feel that way not because we’re lonely, it’s just that all of a sudden we realize that it is simply better to be connected to this particular person and that we feel more abundant inside, more like ourselves than on our own.

I believe that we’re not actually seeking love and romantic relationships in life. We are all looking for authentic connections with “our” people, our spiritual tribe who are commonly referred to as soulmates, with whom we can then experience the best and most beautiful friendship, love, romance, partnership, and companionship. And regardless of how long these relationships actually last, these connections mark us for eternity.

When I think of you, five specific images immediately come to mind, and I hold them very dear to my heart because I believe they have shaped a lot of who I am.

The very first one is mostly how I imagine the situation to have unfolded. As winters in our home country are known to be really harsh, gloomy, and cold seasons, you must have wanted to bring more light and joy into your day-to-day life. That’s why you gave me a name with the word “light” in it which I have always been grateful for. The idea of seeing the brighter side of things is something I’ve held onto even during my lowest and darkest moments. In addition, my name has led to a few funny incidents, like, when my baby nephews would look up in confusion or point at the ceiling upon hearing somebody say it.

As a child, I used to love looking through photos of baby me. Each time I came across one of them in particular, I felt a sense of adoration and care. In this photo a much younger you is seen squatting in front of me when I was sixteen months old, offering a fluffy dandelion. I suppose I always longed for your attention, but you were often busy working hard to provide for us. So this photo became the only tangible proof of your presence during my early years.

When I was very little, you had this awesome hobby of trekking in the mountains (it had started way before I was born). Mom was never pleased about being left alone with two kids for 2-3 weeks at a time but I guess she couldn’t fully comprehend what it meant for you. Having trekked in the Himalayas a few times myself, I absolutely get it, though. Now I truly understand why, when coming back home after another trip, you carried an aura of bliss, joy, and freedom along with you and were glowing from the inside through your thick bushy beard. I experience it all, too, whenever I’m out in nature, away from the noise and worries of city life. I’m sure you have passed this mountain-loving gene down to me, and it brings a smile to my face to know we have that in common.

There is one more thing that I often forget about, mainly because it has been an integral part of me for a very very long time. Strangely enough, it began with you. Despite spending most of my time with Mom as you worked from morning till night, I don’t recall her ever reading to me. However, when I was between the ages of five and eight, you often read to me. Instead of short stories or fairy tales, you chose long captivating novels about pirates and sea adventures which took you many consequent nights to finish. This bedtime reading became my most cherished part of the day, something I always looked forward to.

Among those stories, there was one that stood out from the rest. It was significantly shorter and featured a young girl as the main character. Its airy and unique atmosphere captivated my imagination, leaving a lasting impact for many years to come. In fact, I was so moved by this tale that I wrote an essay about it in high school, which became the first time I wrote something not out of obligation but out of genuine desire.

This beautiful and tender story taught me to have faith in what I believe in and showed me that even the most improbable dreams can come true. So, Dad, thank you for introducing me to The Scarlet Sails. This literary extravaganza will forever remain timeless and cherished in my heart.

Finally, what I will always owe you is my love for photography. It all began with my curiosity for the mystery and magic unfolding in our tiny bathroom when you entered it without turning on the lights and asked everyone not to disturb you in there. Though your photos may not have been artistic or sophisticated, they hold an immense value allowing me to relive some of the important childhood moments. Hardly any families we knew back then had photo cameras. It’s truly remarkable that we did, considering the fact that my early years coincided with the extreme scarcity of even the most essential goods in our country. Anyway, you meticulously documented many of my dance studio performances, all my birthday parties, our family picnics in the park, as well as my teachers, classmates, and various school events. As I entered high school, you bought me my first easy-to-use automatic film photo camera! I put it to very good use, assuming the role you had once held. Later, just before I went traveling on my own, and this old camera had broken, understanding the importance of tangible memories, you got me another compact camera, a digital one this time. It became my constant companion which I treasured dearly and kept by my side at all times: on the table during meals, next to my bed at night as I browsed through the day’s photos before falling asleep, and always tucked safely in my backpack during the day. Those photos have much lower resolution than modern ones but the mere fact of having them transcends their technical quality. Each image allows me to relive some of the most cherished memories of my young adult life. I can’t thank you enough for this gift.