To reach safety, we had to pass through Bhuj, the epicenter of the quake. The devastation was beyond words. The entire town had caved in. People were still crying for their lost loved ones, trapped under the rubble. It was a vision of hell on earth.

We made it to a town where we could board a train to Delhi, then flew back to Dubai, where we lived at the time. But none of us escaped unscathed.

PTSD became a silent companion. For years, the slightest tremor sent us running outside, even when there was no quake. We kept a bag of essentials packed by the door, just in case.

Even until four years ago, when my partner and I moved into a new home near railway tracks, the sound of an early morning train sent me into a panic. I shook him awake, convinced the earth was moving again.

Many suffered in different ways - physical injuries, grief, financial ruin. But some, like me, carried invisible scars.

This disaster changed me. It taught me that while safeguarding the future is important, living in the present is paramount. If we aren't present today, what is the point of tomorrow?

And that's where my journey to freedom began.