Sherlock at Seventeen - The Blue Drum Theory
I loved murder mysteries and as a kid when others traded stickers, I traded suspects. I devoured every Nancy Drew case I could find and longed to join the adventures of The Famous Five . I was fascinated by how the brain worked, how the same set of facts could produce different conclusions in different minds. That curiosity made me inquisitive. That and the one undeniable gene I inherited from my mother: the reading gene. Novels were technically banned from my schoolbag. Not because they were inappropriate but because I disappeared into them. I once missed my bus stop entirely, only resurfacing when the conductor shook me awake at the depot. I received a legendary earful that evening. But those were safer times, a time when the world was kinder. I miss that era. For a girl who lived and breathed mysteries, I always wished for a real one to solve. I just didn’t expect it to come wrapped in tragedy. It was during my 12th board exams. Physics was still echoing in my brain—laws of mot...
