I was halfway down a mountain in Uttarakhand when the first line of a blog post hit me. No laptop. No notebook. Just cracked lips, sore calves, and a sentence that refused to let go. I pulled out my phone. Opened the recorder. Spoke into it like I was delivering a voice note to myself from the edge of the world. A guide glanced back, probably wondering what I was doing talking to rocks. I didn’t care. That line came when it wanted to, and I wasn’t going to let it dissolve into the silence. Inspiration doesn’t show up when asked. It shows …
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