India, June 24 -- There's something about the patio at 8th Day Cafe. That afternoon, as I sat outside, the sun was just beginning its descent - not quite evening, not quite day - that golden, in-between hour when everything glows softly, like a secret whispered to the earth. The sunlight spilled through a wall of green, casting a warm shimmer across the wooden table. The scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered, and in that glowing moment, it felt like the world paused just long enough to let you breathe. The cafe didn't shine with glamour. It glowed - gentle, real, full of soul. And in that stillness, I felt the heartbeat of the place. A heartbeat that belongs to a man named Grant Walsh.
Grant's story begins far from Kolkata, in Phoenix, A...