After spending another day in the newsroom getting minute-to-minute updates on the strikes, the counter strikes, the capture of an Indian Air Force pilot and the subsequent release on social media of disturbing videos, I left work with a pall of gloom hanging on my head. The mind still swirling with the information overload, I went straight to pick up four kids, including my 9-year-old, from their music school.
With a half distracted mind, listening to the four cracking jokes and giggling and basically being kids, I decided to unload on them. I shot off a series of questions and half-baked information at them. The rest of the journey was quite. I had successfully passed on my gloom to the four kids who had entered the car quite happy and hopeful.