This is the only book Shivani has written. In 2015, she was

32 and was diagnosed with breast cancer that had already spread to her lungs. She could have been bitter and sad about this, but she chose to make art and write poetry. This is a collection of her poems and illustrations with themes ranging from mundane objects and nature to fears and insecurities, cancer and depression, self-love and understanding. It is a 10-year story of sunshine, hope, fear and loss.

On a Sunday in September 2021, she died; her hand in mine. With her, went a lifetime of unfulfilled dreams, and this book is one of them.

— Adithya Holehonnur