<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0"><channel><title><![CDATA[Author - Vinay Trivedi]]></title><description><![CDATA[Author - Vinay Trivedi]]></description><link>https://www.authorvinaytrivedi.com/blog</link><generator>RSS for Node</generator><lastBuildDate>Thu, 20 Aug 2026 08:35:07 GMT</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://www.authorvinaytrivedi.com/blog-feed.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title><![CDATA[The Bag Is Empty]]></title><description><![CDATA[The Bag Is Empty It was a sunny afternoon in the middle of May, the kind of afternoon when the city does not move so much as endure. The sun stood above everything with a punishment that felt personal. Heat fell on the head, rose from the road, entered the eyes, and made even silence seem tired. Shadows had grown short beneath parked cars and compound walls. The trees beside the road stood without movement, as if their leaves had accepted defeat. The dogs slept under shutters. The hawkers sat...]]></description><link>https://www.authorvinaytrivedi.com/post/the-bag-is-empty</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a47510758a63f48b075a514</guid><pubDate>Fri, 03 Jul 2026 06:15:41 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/6c8ac4_347bba49240a4350a33e3d00455df5cb~mv2.png/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>Vinay Trivedi</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Strongest Man I Ever Knew Was My Mother.]]></title><description><![CDATA[There are certain truths about our parents that arrive far too late. They do not arrive when we are children because children are incapable of seeing them. They do not arrive when we are young adults because youth has a habit of mistaking sacrifice for normalcy. They arrive much later, often after time has already taken away the person we wish to thank. By then, all that remains are memories, scattered across the years like pieces of a puzzle, waiting patiently for us to understand what they...]]></description><link>https://www.authorvinaytrivedi.com/post/the-strongest-man-i-ever-knew-was-my-mother</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a3a1ff6fa54cc84484ca9cc</guid><pubDate>Tue, 23 Jun 2026 05:56:09 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/6c8ac4_967dd417f4884ef0a0d171108b68fd8b~mv2.png/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>Vinay Trivedi</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[Happy Father’s Day. Thank you, But no thank you..!!]]></title><description><![CDATA[Father’s Day has always been a curious day for me. Every year, I read messages written by sons and daughters celebrating the men who taught them to ride bicycles, helped them with homework, waited outside school gates, attended sports days, and quietly carried the weight of entire families on their shoulders. As I read those stories, I often find myself thinking about the fathers I grew up watching. My childhood was filled with them. I remember fathers walking through public parks with small...]]></description><link>https://www.authorvinaytrivedi.com/post/happy-father-s-day-thank-you-but-no-thank-you</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a3a12c172415ea9e53c7a8e</guid><pubDate>Tue, 23 Jun 2026 05:04:31 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://static.wixstatic.com/media/6c8ac4_d2e85f0f47264b2a95e056f19b5f7607~mv2.png/v1/fit/w_1000,h_1000,al_c,q_80/file.png" length="0" type="image/png"/><dc:creator>Vinay Trivedi</dc:creator></item></channel></rss>