In the summer of 2002, I was in London waiting for a liver transplant. Most of my family, including my husband and five-year old daughter were in India. I had been on the transplant list at King's College Hospital for almost eight months, waiting for a cadaver organ. I was fighting to stay alive and at an emotional low, thinking of giving up and going home, back to India. At that point, I started writing a letter to my daughter, Aditi because it seemed unlikely that I would live for much longer or see her again.The letter turned into a book, a memoir.