The Price of 10 Minutes: What We Lose to Q-Comm!!

 I recently read an article on quick commerce (Q-comm) that prompted me to ponder the fundamental ways we live—both the new and the old.

There is no doubt that Q-comm is here to stay. However, this modern way of fulfilling basic needs is subtly changing the very fabric of our society—specifically, the rich ecosystem centered around the local kirana store. It is fundamentally reshaping the way we network and maintain our solid communal bonds.

I recall a deeply personal incident from 2002. I was hospitalized while my father was posted far away. The proprietor of our neighbourhood kirana store, upon hearing the news, approached my brother and offered help with genuine concern: "Don't hesitate, if you need money for anything, come here and take it from me." That gesture wasn't a transaction; it was a bond.

This connection isn't unique. The milkman who delivers to my home is the grandson of the man who served my family decades ago. They share a special rapport with my mother, built on years of reliability and mutual trust. I always saw my parents building this kind of relationship—a personal touch that extended across all local businesses, from the dahi bara seller to the chemist. In India's Tier 2 and Tier 3 cities, this local ecology of human connection is a rich, tangible experience.

The Isolation of Modern Convenience

Now, look at the metros. Do we build these connections? No, we don't.

The MilkBasket delivery is left silently on the doorstep before 7 AM; the person who delivered it is unseen.

The large supermarket has so many rotating staff that any interaction is limited to the automated 'tap-to-pay' transaction.

Yes, this modern system brilliantly solves the problem of convenience, speed, and efficiency.

But this begs a crucial question: What happens when the kirana stores are universally replaced by these Q-comm platforms?

It solves our problems faster, but it achieves this by removing the need to connect or build networks. Everything is done via a phone. We become nodes in a digital system, not citizens in a shared community.

This brings up a significant long-term risk. What if this market shapes itself into a near-monopoly, much like the Indigo airline mishap of recent time? 

Consider the vulnerability: If there is a disruption in the network or a city-wide internet outage, how many essential services will be affected? And more critically, who is taking the place of our network-building abilities?

We may rely on cloud systems and disaster recovery for commerce, but we have no equivalent for social capital.

Are we truly going to invent yet another platform just for people to connect, or rely on neighborhood WhatsApp groups to manage community? Either way, we are limiting our ability to touch upon people from all sections of society—the shopkeeper, the delivery person, the vendor.

Our future generations risk losing the dynamics of getting to know a varied range of people across all fields, and with it, losing a valuable part of their humanity. Change is the only constant, and this is happening now. We must therefore consciously seek and learn new ways of fostering genuine human connection in the age of extreme convenience.

The silent burden of the responsible child!!

 Every parent believes they treat their children equally. In reality, we treat them according to their needs, strengths, and weaknesses. One child may be naturally organized and responsible; another may be flighty and lazy. We tailor our requests and our expectations to align them with a "bigger picture."

The inherent flaw in this approach is that while the intent is fair, the perception is often devastating, especially for the eldest. We are not balancing love; we are balancing burdens.

The Unspoken Role of the Eldest

The eldest child often becomes the Parenting Beta-Tester. They are the training wheels for our parental journey. They witness our evolution, but ironically, they receive less of the unburdened, joyful, new-parent pampering that the younger ones benefit from.

We unknowingly hand them the mantle of responsibility early on, creating a powerful, unspoken contract: "Your love is tied to your self-sufficiency."

I know this wound intimately.

I recall an incident from my childhood when my brother and I were struggling to adapt to a new city where the local language dialects were harsh. We were both facing criticism from classmates, but I, being the elder one, bottled my resentment. My brother, in 4th grade, could not.

One day, we got into a fight, likely fueled by the external stress we were both absorbing. To resolve the chaos, my mother, in a moment of misguided exhaustion, told my brother to hit me.

He slapped me so hard that my gum started bleeding.

I don’t recall the subject of the fight, but the ultimate lesson I learned was crystal clear: My brother's feelings were more important than my physical safety, and my emotional resilience was assumed. Unknowingly, my mother had told me, "I love your brother more."

The wound inflicted by that moment was not the bleeding gum; it was the psychological instruction that my pain should be hidden.

About a year later, I slipped and fell down five or six steps of a school staircase, badly injuring my spinal cord. I struggled to change my clothes when I got home. My mother came to check on me, but I simply sent her away. I never told anyone. To this day, my family does not know I faced that severe injury.

That is the consequence of asking a child to be "responsible" too early: They learn that their only value lies in their ability to endure and manage their pain alone. They grow up equating responsibility with silence.

Parents, you might be loving both children equally, but do your children feel the same?

The child who carries the stress of responsibility often misses out on the fundamental need to be pampered and simply seen as vulnerable. The younger child gets the added benefit of their elder sibling’s emotional scaffolding and the parents’ learned wisdom.

To fix this imbalance, we must use an unconventional approach:

Stop Asking for Resilience: Stop telling the eldest to "be responsible," "set an example," or "be the bigger person." Instead, tell the younger one, "Your elder sibling needs a break; today, you are responsible for the dinner plates."

Mandate Pampering: Designate specific, recurring moments for the eldest that have zero connection to duty or performance. A special, quiet "date" with the parent, or a dedicated, no-task-required cuddle session. Make them feel valued for who they are, not what they manage.

Validate the Burden: Acknowledge their role: "I know we ask a lot of you because you are so capable, and that is not always fair. Thank you for carrying that for us. How can I carry something for you today?"

Let us ensure that both children grow up whole—one not stressed by premature responsibility, and the other not enjoying a stress-free existence built entirely on their sibling's endurance.

To Defeat Procrastination, Lock Up Your Pants!!

 ​Long ago, I read the book on a train journey. But today, the real protagonist isn't Quasimodo(The hunchback of Notredame); it's Victor Hugo's sheer, glorious, self-imposed insanity. The real plot twist isn't in the book; it’s in the author’s extreme, almost hostile approach to his own procrastination.

Hugo had committed to the book, but like all of us who have stared at a blinking cursor for three hours, he got caught up in the glorious chaos of distraction: parties, socializing, learning new things, and generally enjoying life. His energy was high, but his productivity was zero.

His publisher, driven to the end of their quill, issued an ultimatum: six months to deliver, or face the consequences.

Did Hugo buy a self-help book? Did he invest in a fancy ergonomic chair? No. He understood that to kill the urge to procrastinate, he had to make going outside a physically unappealing, socially humiliating nightmare.

The Lock-Down Strategy: A Shawl and a Pen

Hugo’s solution was legendary in its simplicity and sheer dramatic flair:

He gathered all of his clothes—every shirt, every sock, every pair of velvet pants—packed them into a large trunk, and had his assistant physically lock the chest away. He was left with only a thin, drafty shawl to cover himself.

The Logic: You cannot leave the house without clothes. The Parisian winter was brutal. The prospect of facing society half-naked and shivering instantly became a more powerful deterrent than the difficulty of writing the novel.

He essentially placed an enormous, immediate, and embarrassing penalty on procrastination. He made the effort of writing—the mental grind—a lower cost than the discomfort of his current situation.

The Unconventional CEO

This is the ultimate lesson in mandatory focus. We often try to find focus by adding motivation (rewards, positive affirmations). Hugo succeeded by removing comfort and adding mandatory discomfort.

It’s a humorous, highly effective hack. It reminds us that sometimes, the only way to get the critical assignment done—whether it’s finishing a book, starting a new project, or tackling a daunting financial analysis—is to set the stakes so high that inaction becomes socially, physically, or financially impossible.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to figure out how to lock away my phone without actually having to pull out this stunt.

The Vamana Paradox: When Does Generosity Become Ego?

 The stories of the great Asura kings like Mahabali and Gayasura have always fascinated me. They were not inherently evil; in fact, they were known for immense power, discipline, and profound generosity.

​Yet, as the legends go, both were ultimately checked by the divine: Mahabali was sent to Patala by Vishnu in the Vamana Avatara, and Gayasura’s Yajna was halted by Shiva. The common explanation is that their virtues—Mahabali's dāna (giving) and Gayasura's ability to grant moksha (liberation)—became so excessive that they began to break the cosmic balance (dharma). Mahabali's generosity was allegedly tipping into ahankara (egoistic pride in giving), while Gayasura was bypassing the natural order of Karma.

​This leads me to a fundamental, confusing question for modern life:

​What does it truly mean to be "Ego-Free"?

​The Paradox of Ego

​We are told that surrender of the ego is the path to enlightenment (Nirvana, moksha). Lord Buddha speaks of Śūnyatā (emptiness or non-self) as the ultimate truth.

​But how do we reconcile this spiritual ideal with the harsh realities of our material world?

​The truth is, a complete absence of ego seems unviable for simply functioning:

• ​To Succeed: To pursue a goal, win a race, or lead a business, you need self-belief, drive, and the conviction that your actions matter—elements derived from the ego.
• ​To Sustain: To maintain deep relationships, you must practice humility, vulnerability, and compromise—which requires the surrender of ego. 
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​My own language, Odia, offers a beautiful proverb that captures this tension perfectly: "Ati Ru Iti" (ଅତି ରୁ ଇତି). It means "Anything in excess leads to the end."

​Where is the Line?

​This proverb brings us to the core dilemma. The ego is a necessity, a tool for navigation. But at what point does it become "excessive" and transform from a tool of success into a source of destruction (the "end")?

​How do you determine if your ego is in control, or in excess?

1. ​The Cosmic Question: How do we, as individuals, determine if our ambition or action is "breaking cosmic balance" or simply progressing naturally? Does striving for great success always risk becoming egoistic?
2. ​The Karma Correlation: How does this balance relate to your Karma? Is true good Karma not just about the action itself, but the motive—the surrender of the ego while performing the action?
3. ​The Inner GPS: When confused by the world's demands, what is the reliable inner compass? We chase success, yet we are constantly in the middle—someone is ahead, someone is behind. Where do you find true happiness and contentment? Where is the calling of your soul?

​My Search for the Answer

​I find myself sitting with these questions, and honestly, I am often confused. The world asks us to be authoritative and successful; our heart asks us to be humble and connected.

​Perhaps the answer lies not in eliminating the ego, but in re-aligning its motivation. Maybe the "ego in excess" is when we perform an action solely for the sake of glorifying our self, while the "ego in control" is when we perform the same action with intense focus and drive, but with a goal of service or dharma—letting the fruits of the labor be a byproduct, not the primary focus.

​To sustain in this complex world, what is the single most important truth we should tell ourselves and others about ego? Do you have a better answer to the tension between success and surrender? Please comment below!

The unclenched hand!!

 I remember love like a tight fist,

Afraid to lose, determined to hold on.

A sharp, cold twist,

If he smiled at a girl, my heart was gone.

I wanted him like a trophy to claim,

A prize I had to win and keep by force.

Love then was a possessive game,

A demanding, jealous course.

Now I see his joy, a life not mine,

And yes, a small ache still lives inside.

I know the beautiful, painful line:

That could have been mine. I cannot hide.

But a new feeling rises, strong and true:

If he is happy, if he is cared for well,

Then that good fortune is enough, too.

It breaks the old, possessive spell.

I no longer need to own his days.

I can let him go and wish him light.

Love has found better, softer ways—

It shines for his good, morning, noon, and night.

It's painful truth, but it is honest grace:

To love him freely, from this distant place.

Unclenched feels like a baby's dreaming face,

A swift parade of sadness, joy, and sigh.

I watch the thoughts rush by in silent space,

And feel them all—a tear, a sudden high.

The mixture floods, a wide, internal sea,

Yet in my eyes, the waters do not break.

I am lost in thought, but finally free,

To feel the truth, for goodness' honest sake.

The Ultimate Pre-Nup: You Can Divorce Me After 4 Years, And That's Fine.

It started, as these things often do, with a celebrity quote—a passing remark that she wouldn't wish marriage upon her grandchildren. Cue the predictable social media outrage and trolling. But amidst the noise, the core question remains: Are we finally ready to admit that the traditional structure of Indian marriage is under unprecedented strain?

​For too long, we've treated the rising divorce rates and increasing marital dissatisfaction as isolated incidents or moral failings. We cling desperately to the idea of "forever," even when it means accepting prolonged unhappiness, emotional exhaustion, and financial devastation.

​If we can't acknowledge that something is broken, how can we possibly fix it?

​When I first encountered the concept of a pre-nuptial agreement in high school, it felt like a distant, Western concept. But today, a much more radical idea has captured my imagination, one that seems to offer a practical lifeline to this struggling institution: Marriage as a Renewable Contract.

​Imagine a system where, instead of signing up for a lifelong commitment, couples mutually agree to a fixed-term contract—say, four or five years—that must be actively renewed by both parties.

​Why a Renewal Contract is a Game Changer:

• ​Ends the "Investment Trap": No man or woman should have to cling to an unhappy marriage simply because they've "invested too much" time, money, or social capital. The renewal date provides a clean, dignified exit point for both parties.
• ​Encourages Continuous Effort: The security of a life-long contract often breeds complacency. Knowing a renewal is required would force both partners to actively appreciate and work for the relationship, fostering mutual respect and effort.
• ​Empowers Women's Education and Career: This is perhaps the most profound impact. When marriage is not the ultimate, life-securing destination, parents will shift their focus. They will educate their daughters not just to "fetch a good partner," but to build a robust, independent "career forever." A woman's life would no longer be financially or emotionally tethered to the man she marries.
• ​Fair Exit for the Taken-for-Granted: If one party feels they are consistently giving too much, being taken for granted, or suffering in silence, they have a mechanism—simple and non-contentious—to decline the renewal and reclaim their autonomy.

​This concept is, admittedly, unconventional. It directly challenges the deeply ingrained, romantic notion of marriage as a sacred, indissoluble bond. But perhaps what we need is less romance and more practicality.

​A contract renewal wouldn't cheapen the commitment; it would dignify it. It transforms a passive, default arrangement into an active, conscious, and mutual choice made every few years. It gives both partners the power to say, "I choose you, today, for the next five years, because this relationship is truly worth the effort."

​It's time to stop accepting failure as an inevitability and start exploring unconventional solution.

​This is my conviction, but what is yours? Is the idea of a renewable marriage contract a pragmatic solution for modern India, or is it a step too far?

​What is your take on this radical shift? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

The unspoken reply!!

 Some queries bloom with hidden fire,

A yearning vivid, a strange desire.

What words to find, I pause and stray,

What should I say? I wonder, pray.

It is a phantom knock upon the door,

The same closed latch I faced before.

I dare not turn the lock, lest I embrace

The cold, familiar sting of lost grace.

No lie I wish to tell, nor truth unfold,

No whispered secret, brave or bold.

Then guide my tongue, I urgently plead,

How can I answer this pressing need?

That hoped-for future, it may never be;

All seems quite normal, outwardly.

But who can truly know what is real,

The deep, disguised emotions that we feel?

When fate's hard lot was shared across the land,

Ah, where was I? I fail to understand.

Why did I miss my portion, friend so dear?

Where is the fair share I deserve to hear?

Who holds the keys to answers I must know?

I send my ache out, yet no winds blow.

Only the hollow silence gives reply,

Beneath the ever-watching, endless sky.

The constant clockwork ticks, relentless, fast,

A gentle chime that whispers, "This shall pass."

My silence holds a kindness, and no heart

Will splinter, knowing its fractured part.

Let it stay quiet now, and let it rest,

Deep in the shadow, hidden in my chest.

A secret sealed in the heart!!

 

Thank you, dear Universe,

For the sudden, heartfelt laughter that broke the air today.

It is a feeling I would seize and flaunt,

A bright flag hoisted high against the gray.

​And yet—

​I will keep this open secret deep within my heart,

A polished stone of joy, hidden and whole.

I do not wish for any gaze or whisper

To alter the pure chemistry of my soul.

The day expanded, vivid and complete,

A chain of moments, wholly realized.

It shattered the long, metallic silence,

My soul felt anchored, sufficient, and deeply prized.

​For everything given, for every peace regained,

My deepest gratitude is sealed and signed.

I carry this treasure of lightness forward,

Leaving the heavy shadows behind.

The anti-laziness principal:Margasira gurubar as prosperity guide!!

 Manabasa Gurubar (Margasira Masa Gurubar) is not just a day for prayer; it's a powerful Odia tradition that views effort and diligence as essential prerequisites for receiving Goddess Lakshmi's blessings. Here's what this unique festival teaches us about banishing laziness and actively inviting prosperity:

​1. The Strict Mandate of Purity (Anti-Procrastination)

​The core belief is: Goddess Lakshmi visits only clean houses.

• ​The Unique Aspect: The preparation for Manabasa is exhaustive. Women rise before dawn to perform a meticulous cleaning (Shuddhi) that goes far beyond a daily sweep. They plaster the entrances, clean the Manas (paddy pots), and bathe everything in sanctity.
• ​The Prosperity Lesson: This intensive ritual demands immediate, non-negotiable action. It teaches that prosperity does not enter a neglected space. You cannot be lazy and expect wealth. It instills the habit of tackling essential, large tasks immediately, translating to better organization and efficiency in all areas of life (financial, professional, personal).

​2. The Art of the Jhoti Chita (Focus and Detail)

​The traditional rice-paste floor art is a high-effort commitment.

• ​The Unique Aspect: The Jhoti Chita is a sophisticated art form made from wet rice paste (pithau). It requires concentration, a steady hand, and attention to intricate detail—often depicting Lakshmi's footprints and auspicious symbols.
• ​The Prosperity Lesson: The ritual emphasizes that excellence requires focus and attention to detail. Laziness leads to rushed, sloppy work. The Jhoti ritual trains the mind to value precision, reminding us that success and long-term financial stability come from focusing on the finer details of our work and investments.

​3. The Symbolism of the 'Mana' (Valuing What You Have)

​The central icon is the Mana (traditional measuring pot) filled with freshly harvested paddy.

• ​The Unique Aspect: The festival is tied directly to the harvest and abundance. Worshipping the Mana is an act of acknowledging the fruits of labor. It’s a thanksgiving for what has been earned through hard work.
• ​The Prosperity Lesson: It reframes the concept of "wealth." True prosperity is not just wishing for more, but actively valuing and managing the resources you already possess. By revering the Mana (a symbol of full granaries), the tradition motivates us to maintain our gains, budget wisely, and ensure our 'Mana' is never allowed to be empty through idleness.

​4. The Moral of the Laxmi Purana (The Curse of Pride and Inaction)

​The sacred text recited during the festival drives home a social message.

• ​The Unique Aspect: The story shows how even the Gods (Lord Jagannath and Balabhadra) suffer when they disrespect Lakshmi and her principles. They are cursed with poverty until they learn humility and respect the dignity of all devotees.
• ​The Prosperity Lesson: The message is clear: Laziness and arrogance lead to downfall. The Purana teaches us to be constantly mindful of our behavior, respect those who work hard, and understand that sustained prosperity requires continuous, ethical action and humility, not resting on past laurels or titles.

​In summary: Margasira Gurubar is a cultural accelerator for diligence. It declares that Lakshmi follows effort, not wishes. By transforming your home and mind through active dedication, you open the door for genuine, sustained prosperity

Below are few of my jhoti chita this year. And a few I forgot to capture. 

Knowledge is Not the Goal; Imparting It Is!!

 

This week, my usual routine of digital scrolling and deep thinking collided in a profoundly enlightening way. A short reel, a conversation with a friend, and a powerful web series all pointed me toward a single, vital question: What is the true purpose of life?

​Here’s the collection of wisdom that is reshaping how I view my own journey.

​I came across a truly insightful perspective from an elderly person reflecting on the decades of life. The honesty was jarring, yet undeniable:

• ​In your 40s: You realize the neighborhood chaiwala (tea vendor) might be earning more than you—a reminder that value isn't always defined by conventional career paths.
• ​In your 50s: You realize that physical beauty is fleeting. It underscores that true self-worth must be rooted in something deeper than appearance.
• ​In your 60s: You realize a bigger house means bigger pain. A smaller, easier-to-maintain space offers more freedom and less stress.
• ​In your 70s: You realize your meticulously built bank balance is not for you; it's a legacy for the next generation.
• ​In your 80s: You realize you can afford every delicacy, yet your diet is limited to a few things, mostly medicines.

​The stark takeaway? We are constantly losing time. This isn't a call for panic, but a fierce reminder to value the present moment and the experiences it holds.

​This concept of "lost time" resonated deeply with a recurring conversation between my friend and me. We often wistfully look back at our final year of college and wish we had:

​"Actually bunked classes and enjoyed more. We should have sought help to complete the final year project and spent that precious time going around, soaking up the last moments before 'real life' began."

​It's the regret of choosing compliance over experience, but here is the essential clarification: While that wistfulness exists, I do not regret the effort.

​I still believe that the hard work I put into that final year project made me profoundly more confident. I don't want to encourage anyone to pursue bunking classes at the expense of skill-building. You might regret missing out on fun, yes, but I have never regretted making something on my own.

​The lesson isn't to slack off, but to find a better balance between focused effort and well-deserved enjoyment, because that kind of self-reliance and creation builds unparalleled confidence.

​For years, when I ask myself, "What is my purpose?" my parents have given me a very practical answer: "To solve your own problems." While true, a recent web series offered a more expansive, beautiful perspective:

​The real purpose of life is to seek knowledge, and then to impart it.

​This shifts the focus from purely internal struggles to a cycle of learning and contribution. Seeking knowledge (or wisdom) becomes the great personal endeavor, and imparting it to the next generation becomes our moto. If we do this well, perhaps they won't have to spend as much time grappling with this same question.

​The final piece of wisdom from the series was perhaps the most liberating: Embracing uncertainty is the only way to go forward.

​I’m a planner. Yet, I sometimes feel like nothing goes according to my script. The elderly person's wisdom suggests that meticulous planning might be a form of seeking control over the uncontrollable.

​Instead, the path forward is simple, yet challenging:

1. ​Keep Seeking: Never stop learning.
2. ​Keep Utilizing: Apply the knowledge you gain as best you can.
3. ​Keep Imparting: Share the learnings and the lessons—especially the hard-won ones.

​My plans may fail, but my purpose remains: to learn, to live, and to pass on the light.

​What about you? What is the one piece of wisdom you've learned lately that has fundamentally shifted your perspective?

The lazy human: why we invented AI!!

 We stand at a critical juncture in human history, facing a new invention that promises to redefine effort itself: Artificial Intelligence. But to truly understand AI's massive impact, we must first look at the driving force behind all human innovation.

I recently read a fascinating theory: at our core, humans are fundamentally lazy. We don't innovate purely to be more productive; we innovate to reduce effort and find the path of least resistance. Why write a long letter when we can send a text? Why manually process data when we can automate the task? We automate to be lazy, to free up our mental energy for... what, exactly?

This powerful, deep-seated urge to reduce effort is what ultimately demanded the creation of AI.

Now, our lazy inventors have given us the tool to speed up everything that requires effort: drafting office minutes, scheduling complex tasks, and even writing entire books. Our collective imagination, coupled with the desire for maximum automation, has brought AI into the mainstream. Wow, the ultimate demand of our laziness has been met.

But as with every powerful invention, there are repercussions. My own experience taught me this lesson years ago.

In 2010, while going through a tough personal phase, I received an anonymous, cruel email full of painful accusations.that still rings in my ear. In the same year a different unknown sender used digital tools to gently edit my profile picture, adding a rose and wishing me well. Even though I don't know who did it, I kept that picture and used the same as my profile picture a year later. 

Today, the stakes are exponentially higher. AI can be—and is being—used to harm others by creating hyper-realistic fake videos and convincing deep-fake images. The digital malice I faced years ago is now turbo-charged by accessible technology.

This leads to the most urgent question of our time: How do we teach the next generation to use these powerful, effortless technologies not to harm, but to help?

We've taught people not to use fire to burn down a forest. We must now teach them not to use AI to burn down a reputation. Can this intelligent tool—born from our collective laziness—somehow be leveraged to teach us the ethics and effort required to protect each other?

December's Whisper!!

 

​I woke to a cold December morning,

and knew a signal would soon pierce the quiet—

a message from a corner of my past.

​It felt like a reminder that still,

a small, hidden space exists for me.

Why today? Why so early? Yet, I felt it.

​And my phone flashed—a perfect echo.

I paused for just a breath,

and chose to meet the silence with an answer.

​Right or wrong, the judgment falls away.

There is only this mutual, happy recognition, I guess,

to know that someone, somewhere,

still holds a quiet, consistent care.

​I wanted to tell you, so long ago,

Please, finally quit smoking.

But I muted my voice, imposing the answer:

If I no longer matter, why would you do that for me?

​I still need a courage forged of steel to ask that question now,

because I cannot bear to hear that final, resonant "NO" once more.

The power of collective imagination!!

Today was a truly wonderful Friday. While the details of this joy remain personal for now, I want to extend my deep gratitude to everyone and everything that contributed to this feeling. An unusual desire—one I've long held—is on the brink of fulfillment, and I sincerely hope it proves to be for the best. This personal achievement, if realized, will provide the very validation and sense of purpose my inner self craves.

Imagination is a fierce force. It fuels hope, instills discipline, and fosters courage, leading us toward growth. Yet, the same power can become a curse: it can make us rebellious, leading us to break down the very values and good things we hold dear. It creates an internal conflict between what is and what could be.

But what happens when we move beyond this internal wrestling match?

When we pool our imaginations, the abstract becomes tangible. Look at any city—from the initial blueprints for bridges and roads to the final soaring buildings. That entire process is the successful manifestation of a collective imagination. It proves that a shared vision, backed by synchronized effort, has the power to reshape the physical world.

If we can collectively imagine and execute the construction of a city, what prevents us from harnessing that same power to solve our most critical global challenges?

We have achieved massive collective goals before—eradicating smallpox and making significant progress against poverty and polio. Why can't we apply this unified, imaginative force to solving problems like:

Climate Change and Global Warming?

The Brain Drain crisis?

A Cancer-Free World?

This morning, I received fantastic news about a promising new treatment option for colon cancer. This kind of scientific breakthrough is fueled by decades of sustained imagination. Imagine if we could accelerate that process through focused, global intent.

From Marketing to Manifestation

The poor air quality index (AQI) in Delhi, for instance, requires a massive, collective imaginative effort to fix it. Is this not a form of mass manifestation—a shared dream held by millions, rather than just a few isolated individuals?

Think about how marketing works: it makes huge numbers of people collectively imagine a better life—a healthier body, a more radiant glow, a higher standard of living—to sell a product. If selling a widget relies on this mass imaginative conviction, can we leverage that same mechanism to sell the solution to global problems until that solution becomes the undisputed reality?

My imagination is telling me these monumental real-life problems can be solved.

Will you join me in this collective imagination?

If the world we inhabit today is the result of what someone else once collectively imagined, then what truly separates the real from the imagined? Perhaps the only difference is the number of people who agree to believe in it.

Let's pray together 🙏 

Sarve bhavantu sukhinah

Sarve santu niramayaah

Sarve bhadrani pashyantu

Mā kashchit duhkha bhāg bhavet!!

You Say Resilience, I Call Survival!!.

 I walked in this darkness a long time ago,

It seemed lovely then, with flowers and shine;

Dressed up to trick me, a beautiful lie,

I thought it was good, this fate that was mine.

It showed its dark side, the fear and the dirt,

But still I said nothing, blinded by trust;

I kept moving forward, through water and grime,

The path felt so filthy, covered in rust.

Then I saw a small light, and hope filled my heart,

I looked past the muck and moved toward that gleam;

I held onto that promise, ignoring the pain,

Thinking this light would end the bad dream.

But when I reached it, the light was a joke,

Just a small crack in the roof, a difficult view;

Too narrow to crawl through, too strong to break open,

I moved on, still hoping the whole trip was nearly through.

I kept going and going, lost in the deep,

Until the harsh truth started sinking in slow:

I might never find the right way to escape,

I might never leave this maze down below.

I thought of my life, trying hard to find out:

What was my biggest, most foolish mistake?

Was it being loyal? Or trusting too much?

No, those were not the reasons for pain's heavy stake.

Why wasn't I strong? Why couldn't I tear

This tunnel apart and run to be free?

Was the fault with me, or the people who built it,

And sold all their lies so sweetly to me?

They praise one word now: the power of Resilience;

As if I had any other choice to pick.

Was there a better path than this decorated hurt?

I felt sick and alone, and the pain felt too thick.

If I ever get out, too weak to cheer loud,

How can I say this journey was good?

How can I cherish it? Tell me one way

To make this dark trip understood?

You call it Resilience? That beautiful word?

If that helps you, then speak it, I guess.

But for me, it is just simple Survival today,

Nothing brave in this lonely distress.

The arithmetic of Deserve!!

 The word "Deserve"

A bell of cold steel in my head,

Ringing every time the pain resurfaces.

It demands a reckoning:

Who deserves what?

Did you not deserve me,

Or I, you?

Easy to recite that judgment,

Yet the pain does not dissolve.

We might never know the silence

Of who we are, without our us.

Who walks away with the light path,

And who inherits the harsh ground?

We simply move on, the broken echo

Of that painful "Deserve" locked inside.

Love is not found only in happiness.

Its deepest gravity pulls in sadness—

When, stripped of logic, you realize

You still want the same familiar soul,

Even knowing the cost of the pain.

Regret is Not a Burden, It is Your Compass 🧭

 A life without regrets might seem appealing, but such an existence would be no life at all. Regret is more than an emotional sting; it is the fundamental proof that we are alive, aware, and constantly evaluating the choices that shape our destiny.

Regret signals that we undervalued a potential opportunity, or—more often—that we made a choice against our own intuition. It is a powerful internal mechanism that highlights what we truly care about.

If we never felt regret, it would mean one of two things: we never took a risk, or we are incapable of reflection. Our character is not forged in the victories alone, but in the difficult space between what we did and what we could have done. Without mistakes, missteps, and missed chances, we would simply have nothing to learn from.

We only escape the feeling of regret under two extreme conditions:

Perfect Foresight: When we possess the power to view the future lying ahead of us, knowing with certainty the outcome of every decision.

True Indifference: When we achieve the state of complete indifference (Vairagya), as prescribed in our scriptures, where we cultivate absolute non-attachment to outcomes.

The truth is that as human beings, we possess neither. We cannot see the future, and we are inherently emotional creatures who care deeply about our efforts and results. Therefore, regret is not a flaw; it is the natural consequence of being conscious and engaged with life.

Instead of seeing regret as a burden that chains us to the past, we must view it as a guide to competent living.

Regret is the ultimate teacher of sovereignty: it pushes us to refine our actions, redefine our future choices, and step more consciously into the future. It reminds us that we are not static beings, but dynamic creatures constantly being shaped by every decision we make. The intensity of the regret is merely a reflection of how much potential lay in the path we dismissed.

When we are capable of analyzing and feeling regret, we evolve. We use that memory not to self-punish, but to create a high-fidelity map for the path ahead.

Embracing regret does not mean dwelling in the past. It means letting the past become the powerful light that illuminates the path ahead.

When we learn from regret, it becomes less of an open wound and more of a guiding compass. It is the clearest proof that we lived boldly enough to dream, to strive, and to put our faith in a future better than our past.

Regret is the price of admission for a conscious, deeply-lived life.

A second chance: my journey to becoming a stem cell donor!!

 We all carry the memory of someone touched by cancer. For me, it's a senior from my engineering college, whose battle with blood cancer tragically ended during his second or third year. While other cancers may not have this specific treatment path, blood cancer often offers a powerful ray of hope: stem cell transplantation.

​And here's the crucial part: it's not the daunting, complex surgery many imagine. It's akin to a blood donation, where stem cells are separated much like plasma. This simple truth holds the power to give someone a second chance at life.

​As anticipated, my DKMS swab kit arrived earlier this week—a small envelope carrying a profound promise. A quick message from DKMS confirmed its dispatch, and it was at my doorstep within three days.

​Unboxing Hope: The Simplicity of the Kit

​The kit itself is a testament to efficiency. Inside, I found:

• ​A consent form (with a spare for my records).
• ​A clear, picture-filled instruction manual detailing how to take the cheek swabs.
• ​A pre-addressed return envelope with a barcode.
• ​The swabs themselves, securely sealed.

​

Every step is designed for clarity and ease. I read through it, understood the process, and have now scheduled my return pickup. Soon, with the final HLA typing complete, I'll officially be listed as a potential donor.

​A Long-Held Desire Fulfilled

​This desire to contribute to such a vital cause has been with me since my very first semester of engineering. After a prolonged recovery from typhoid, I returned to college eager to participate in an NSS blood donation camp. On the final day, however, I was politely turned away by the doctors due to my recent illness. That experience taught me a profound lesson: a single donation can not only save a life but also offer crucial insights into the donor's own health.

​While this isn't a traditional blood donation, the spirit is the same. It's a direct route to helping a blood cancer patient whose life hangs in the balance, waiting for a compatible HLA match. Signing up as a donor fulfills that long-lost desire to make a tangible difference.

​My deepest wish, however, is that my match is never needed—that no one has to face this deadly disease. But if my cells can offer a second chance, if they can provide hope, I will step forward without hesitation.

​I urge all my readers: please take a moment to understand stem cell donation. It is a simple act with potentially life-altering impact. If you're unsure where to start, DKMS is the organization I can personally recommend.

​Beyond signing up, please help spread this awareness. Let every blood cancer patient and their families know that this treatment option exists, and that a match could be just a swab away.

The highest cost of making things easy!!

 I recently had an encounter at a financial institution that distilled years of pain and observation into one moment. I met an elderly lady, a government college professor, who was there with her teenage son. After she left, the clerk confided that she had just lost her husband, also a professor, and they were dealing with old physical stock bonds found in his safe.

Here was a woman with professional competence, intellectual credibility, and a lifetime of shared partnership—yet, she was completely blind to their financial structure. Her capable husband had made things easy for her, and in doing so, he had left her vulnerable.

Why did her capable husband not share the details? Why did she not learn the basics of demat accounts, nominees, or asset management?

The answer lies in a toxic societal myth: that if you have a competent partner, you are excused from learning the basics.

We strive to set up passive income, we diversify our sources, we plan for decades—but if the nominated partner doesn't even know the basics, the entire structure collapses. It's not just insurance policies and physical assets; it's the skill of management that needs to be learned and taught to everyone, irrespective of gender.

Money is not just a tool for commerce; it is the fundamental tool that gives you courage and agency to take a step of your choice. To limit that knowledge to one gender is to limit their freedom.

This scenario makes me think of the necessity of a Will. A few years ago, I spoke to a school friend, now a respected judge, about this very topic. Her perspective, rooted in spiritual faith, was that what is rightfully yours cannot be taken away.

But my logical, trauma-informed mind asks: If the spiritual prospective holds true, why then did mankind invent the concept of Wills?

Someone, through logic and painful experience, designed a physical tool for the betterment of surviving family members. The logical structure exists to smooth the path of the living. To dismiss it is to dismiss the duty we have to our nominees.

We must accept that spiritual faith in Fate cannot excuse us from exercising Forethought.

When the head of a family dies, the surviving partner—no matter how capable—should not be rendered helpless.

This is the silent crisis of our time. I refuse to outsource my security again. I refuse to let competence breed dependency. My goal is not just to survive; it is to ensure that, should I leave this world tomorrow, I have left my nominee with every single skill and document required to remain sovereign.

The ultimate act of love is to empower your partner, not to protect them from the burden of knowledge.

What are your thoughts on this intersection of faith, law, and financial duty?

The Love I Never Knew: Yearning for the Father-Daughter Dynamic!!

 I recently saw a post on social media that was pure literary genius. The author described the "new girl in his life" with such vivid, adoring detail—her  hands, her captivating gaze—that for a brief moment, you’d assume a confession of infidelity. The reveal? The "new girl" was his newborn daughter. I instantly fell in love with the tenderness of that post.

It brought back a memory of being asked what gender I wished for my first child. Though I've always loved the idea of boys, I instantly replied, "A girl." Not because I thought I would love her more, but because I believed a daughter would love her father more, and a father would return that love with an unmatched, pampering devotion. I deeply yearned to witness that specific kind of intense, sometimes jealous-making, father-daughter bond.

Of course, I didn't have a girl. I have a wonderful, son. And as the well-known dynamic goes—mothers love their sons deeply, and sons often form an intense attachment to their mothers. I am completely immersed in this bond, and I am happy to have my son.

Yet, despite this deep contentment, I still carry a sweet, wistful longing for the experience of having a daughter. I miss the feeling of watching that unique father-daughter dynamic unfold in my own home.

I get to see a vivid example of it whenever I visit my family: my brother had a daughter just two days after my son, and the obsession—the pure, undivided delight of a father with his little girl—is palpable. It is a protective, pampering, beautiful force.

My current reality is rich with love, defined by the powerful, necessary bond between a mother and her son. But there remains that soft corner in my heart that yearns for the simple, joyful complexity of the father-daughter relationship.

It's a strange human contradiction: to be completely fulfilled by the love we have, yet still carry the quiet memory of a love we once yearned to witness. It is a reminder that even in the most perfect circumstances, our hearts will always hold a space for the beautiful lives we never got to live.

What are your thoughts on this? Do you also find yourself gazing at beautiful dynamics that exist outside of your own life, simply enjoying the fantasy without compromising your love for your reality?

The Silent Crisis: Why Women Must Stop Outsourcing Financial Power!!

Scrolling through a women's investment group today, I stumbled upon a stark, chilling reality. It wasn't about complex market moves; it was about the fundamental failure of a deeply ingrained societal myth.

​Two highly intelligent, high-earning women shared their financial anxieties. Both brought in formidable paychecks—significantly larger than what many earn—yet both were drowning. One was sleepless over zero savings, burdened by excessive EMIs. The other was terrified for her children’s future.

​The common denominator was tragically clear: The husband, responsible for "financial decision-making," had gotten them into this position.

​The Dangerous Myth of Outsourced Competence

​Society dictates a clear, yet toxic, division of labor: The husband is the financial head; the wife follows through.

​But how do we determine the real competence these men possess?

​The two women's stories illustrate the breakdown of this myth:

• ​In one case, the man's decision-making involved acquiring multiple properties, resulting in crippling debt before they could generate income. This demonstrates poor strategy and cash flow management.
• ​In the other, the man’s obligations—repaying family loans—meant the couple's collective high income was flowing out, leaving zero buffer. This demonstrates a failure to set boundaries and prioritize the immediate family unit.

​These intelligent women trusted a system that presumes financial knowledge is limited to a particular gender. They outsourced their most vital tool for safety to a competence that was never verified.

​Money is a Tool for Safety, Not a Gendered Privilege

​This entire structure is built on a shallow, limiting view of women. The world frequently assumes that a woman's needs and wants are limited to food, clothing, cosmetics, and random vacation plans. Is this truly all that limits a woman's competence?

​This is where society has profoundly failed us. The financial freedom a woman should possess is not a matter of gender equality; it is a matter of basic human need.

​Managing this tool is directly linked to the most primal human requirement: the feeling of safety. This feeling should never be limited by gender. When women are denied agency over their finances, they are denied the ability to self-preserve, to shield their children, and to walk away from chaos.

​The financial well-being of a household depends far more on discipline, strategy, and verifiable competence than on who holds the title of "husband." The clarity gained from witnessing these struggles is the realization that financial sovereignty is the ultimate form of self-preservation.

​It is time we stop outsourcing our safety and recognize that financial freedom is non-negotiable for every individual.

The Mind Game of the Forced Choice: Exploiting Emotional Duty!!

 The most effective manipulators don't argue with your logic; they bypass it entirely by forcing you into a psychological dilemma where every possible outcome triggers guilt or shame. This is the game played constantly in families, workplaces, and relationships.

1. The Logic Phase: Establishing the Cost (The Trolley Trap)

The game begins by presenting a situation that appears to be about objective resource allocation or utilitarian calculation.

The Set-Up: The manipulator introduces a problem where the numbers clearly favor one action (e.g., “Logically, we should save the five by sacrificing the one.”)

Daily Life Example: A spouse frames an extravagant purchase as "just a big number" or a simple "family asset" decision, ignoring the catastrophic impact on your long-term savings. The initial frame is purely financial: Should we spend X or save X?

The Internal Conflict: Your mind—the logical CEO—is ready to analyze the pros and cons (e.g., The five people are our kids' education; the one is a temporary luxury.). You believe you are debating math and stability.

2. The Emotional Hijack: Personalizing the Sacrifice

The trick is activated the moment the impersonal problem is swapped for a highly personal, emotional variable.

The Switch: The dilemma shifts from "five lives versus one life" to "five strangers versus your mother." The sheer weight of duty and love immediately crushes the logical calculation.

Daily Life Example: Your decision not to spend a large amount on a spontaneous vacation is not met with logic, but with sarcasm and invalidation. "What would you do with money if you don't even know how to live a little?" or "I guess our happiness isn't as important as your bank account."

The Overwhelm: Your brain is suddenly flooded with shame and fear of abandonment. The discussion is no longer about finance; it is about proving your love and loyalty. You become so consumed with defending your affection that you forget the original logical argument.

3. The Paralysis of the No-Win Choice (The Boat Dilemma)

The second stage of the game is to use this overwhelming emotion to force a choice that is inherently damaging, creating a state of emotional paralysis.

The Forced Dilemma: In the boat scenario, you are trapped between throwing out your mother (violating duty to your past) or your wife (violating duty to your present).

The Game in Action:

The Boss: A manager pressures you to work late, framing your fatigue as a lack of team loyalty or dedication. You are forced to choose between Health (your well-being) and Reputation (your perceived duty). No matter which you choose, you lose.

The Controlling Relative: A mother-in-law imposes her methods, making you feel little. She forces the choice between Autonomy (your way) and Peace (her silence). If you resist, you're called disrespectful; if you submit, you lose your sense of self-worth.

The person caught in this cycle is overwhelmed because they wrongly assume there is a "right" choice within the manipulator's frame. The moment you start defending your love, your loyalty, or your worth against a sarcastic remark or a guilt trip, you have accepted the manipulator’s impossible game. The pain comes from the realization that you are being asked to sacrifice your fundamental integrity for temporary, conditional peace.

In essence, these emotional dilemmas illustrate the continuous, subtle mind game played by people around us who demand compromise and acceptance of their manipulation. We often give in to their engineered choices, sacrificing our logic and peace, simply to maintain external calm. At other times, we forcefully assert our own boundaries. The agonizing truth is that there is often no single, moral "best" decision in these scenarios, as the choices are inherently flawed. We are left only with time, which eventually reveals whether our decision—to yield or to defend—was the one that best preserved our internal integrity. This entire struggle is amplified when those around us are rigidly attached to imposing their will, rather than being open to new, respectful ways of coexistence.

The Search for a Unified Theory: Faith, Fate, and Fortune!!

 

My journey has been defined by a relentless search for logic where none seems to exist.

​Early on, when faced with profound injustice, my immediate instinct was to demand answers. I felt an overpowering need to confront the situation, to find a valid reason for the cruelty. But while I was consumed by tears and confusion, a message appeared—a stark, almost divine directive: "Silence is the best revenge."

​I didn't crave revenge, but I chose silence anyway. I chose it because I felt utterly weak and powerless. My fate was decided by someone else's casual decision, and I was left with nothing but the echo of an accepted truth my heart vehemently refused to acknowledge.

​The Paradox of Manifestation

​I've struggled with understanding the mechanism of desire. In one phase, I longed for a future so desperately that I ignored every internal intuition warning me away. I visualized a perfect life, oblivious to the fact that it was not mine to claim. That manifestation failed completely.

​Then, years later, a separate desire arose—an outcome with a mere 30% success rate. After nearly 18 months of persistent prayer, I achieved success on the very first attempt. I was filled with immense gratitude. I believed my prayers, my focus, my manifestation, had worked.

​Yet, that joy was short-lived, violently extinguished by someone who simply could not bear to witness my happiness.

​Life continued to deliver setbacks in bunches, one overwhelming wave after the next. Amidst this chaos, something unusual occurred: I experienced a sudden, inexplicable sense of a friend's pain, a genuine feeling of telepathy. I reached out and confirmed they were, indeed, in immense suffering.

​Are these mere coincidences, or is there a rational explanation that lies just beyond our grasp? My rational mind yearns for a scientific explanation, yet my soul senses a profound spiritual current at play. I am driven by a deep need to understand the "how" and "why" of this grand, confusing mechanism we call existence.

​The Riddle of Luck and Lost Opportunity

​We often define luck as the moment preparation meets opportunity. But even this definition fails to capture the full scope of life's whims.

​I once missed a massive, guaranteed 100% salary hike at my first organization because I left just two years too soon—a reward based purely on institutional longevity ( company's centenary celebration), not competence.

​Even more confusingly, I earned two lucrative job offers through sheer skill, only to let them go. My father, with love, asked me: “What would you do with more money without anyone to share your life with?” I could not convince him, and I lost the opportunities.

​Was I truly that inept at seizing opportunities? That poor at calculating the true outcome of my decisions? I now know that your environment—the voices, the expectations, the limitations—contributes massively to success or failure, a truth I failed to assess then.

​My persistent introspection still cannot fully connect these dots. I cannot logically explain the profound impact of those decisions on my life today. I do not know if I am in the right direction.

​But I know this: I keep moving. Simply with faith as my only compass, I navigate this profound uncertainty, determined to find the truth behind the patterns.

The unseen cost of being the strong one!!

 Years ago, someone told me, “The stronger you are, the more pain you will face.” I acknowledged them silently, but a raw thought echoed in my head: Is that why you choose to give me pain?

This simple statement encapsulates the paradox of my life: I was given no choice but to be strong. I had to learn to handle myself on my own terms. Yet, despite the outer composure, I felt profoundly weak inside. I rarely shared this pain, letting only a trusted few—a handful of friends and family—see the cracks.

The Illusion of "Faking It"

I remember my youngest brother, with the best intentions, advising me to distract myself: "Go watch movies, spend a few hours in a good mood." I listened. I watched many films. But my sadness was always waiting. The moment the credits rolled, it would visit me back, unannounced and relentless.

I learned that trying to be strong, or perhaps faking to be strong, still hurts. We do this because society teaches us that vulnerability is a liability—that people will criticize us, mock us, or exploit us if we break down. So, we suppress our emotions and fake normalcy.

That time, it took me the longest time to find internal normalcy again. My outer world might have seen my routine intact, but I know the silent war that raged inside.

The Final Breakdown of Emotion

Sometimes I analyze the final stage of deep sadness or depression. It's not a burst of tears; it's when you feel no emotions at all.

When life scares you too much, the last thing that happens is a desperate surge of self-preservation. You start pushing that overwhelming fear back, and in that process, all your emotions seem to vanish. You feel nothing inside.

When I look back today, I wonder: What would have excited me before now leaves me emotionless. Was that strength? I still don't know the answer.

Why Are We Learning to Be Strong?

This brings me to the fundamental, lingering question: If everything is meant to pass, if life is just a sum total of experiences, and we ultimately take nothing with us—then why are we learning to be strong?

Even if there is rebirth, and we are bound to forget the learnings of this life, what is the reward?

The truth is, being the strong one means to shoulder responsibilities as if you are alone. It feels like a constant, crushing burden, and the mind longs for escape.

I acknowledge that I would have been happier to be the "weak one," with someone always taking care of me, rather than me being the one to take care of everyone else. But life chose me for this role.

That inner child in me still screams sometimes, asking: Why do I need to do this alone, like a toddler left to fend for herself?

But perhaps, the answer lies in the doing. The reward isn't external validation or a future life free of pain; perhaps the reward is the unshakeable competence and peace we build within ourselves, brick by brick, by refusing to collapse when every outside force suggests we should.

The investment of competence!!

 Today, I received the call I was eagerly waiting for. My friend, who had left her job after the unfortunate passing of her husband seven years ago, called me with the absolute best news: she got the job offer.

It’s remarkable how life circles back. We are both professionals, but she works in the education sector where job changes are rare. I was with her when she got her first role—in fact, we both received our college job offers on the auspicious day of Ganesh Chaturthi years ago. Now, after a seven-year gap, she chose to re-enter the workforce, and once again, she asked me to be a part of her journey.

She asked for help creating a resume that would stand out. As an IT professional, I'm used to these tasks, but I knew her skills needed to be translated for a new era. I did what I knew best: I applied every bit of analytical focus—the same focus I use for my current learning—to help refine her narrative. Today, she received the offer. This is a win for both of us.

Later, she shared her current dilemma: her daughter, currently in the 12th grade, wants her to delay joining until after her board exams. I know she will manage this massive task with grace and find the right solution to honor both her family and this crucial opportunity.

Post-call, when I opened my social media, I saw a reel that offered a profound reframe: "When someone asks you for help, remember they have asked God first. And God has redirected them to you."

That single message lifted my spirit. I questioned the use of my education, often feeling that my intense efforts were invisible. But this moment provided a crucial, undeniable truth: My skills work. My judgment works.

Unlike the exhausting drama and uncertainty I often face, this victory is pure and unmessy success. It reminds me of a similar small success last year when I found a job post for my cousin sister, and she got the role.

When we feel powerless, the greatest gift is the opportunity to be the helper in someone else’s success. It restores our belief in our own competence.

I find myself still searching for the right keys to unlock my own future, while successfully providing the keys for others' luck. What a crucial learning this is in the big masterplay of fate. It teaches me this: Keep refining your competence, keep investing your skills, and keep being the helper.

The quiet miracle of compounding efforts!!

 Today is Kartik Purnima and Guru Nanak Jayanti—a day usually reserved for grand ritual and deep gratitude. Yet, I woke up heavy. My usual morning momentum was gone, replaced by a quiet, physical lethargy. Instead of fighting it, I chose a radical act: rest. I lingered on the couch, giving myself permission to be exactly where I was, prioritizing my own health over the demands of the clock.

When you are in a low phase, even the simplest task feels like scaling a mountain. So, when I finally opened my daily books—I found a small, almost personalized act of grace.

The universe, in its unusual care, had aligned the two shortest chapters for me to read today.

Completing those chapters was disproportionately relieving. It was a soft whisper of success: Yes, I still managed to complete my quota. That single, small act transformed my entire evening, allowing me to close the day with a rare feeling of wholeness instead of guilt.

Later, I received a piece of news from a friend—a tiny, almost insignificant win in the grand scheme of things. Yet, for both of us, it was a necessary moment of pleasant relief.

In the quiet vacuum of my own life, where genuine appreciation for my efforts feels scarce, even the slightest opportunity to be helpful to others is a powerful lifeline. That tiny victory, which I helped facilitate, lifted my mood significantly. It affirmed a truth I desperately need to hear: I still have the capacity to effect positive change.

Thank you, Universe, for that small, clean piece of joy. I carry that significant feeling of purpose in my heart now, letting it fuel the hope that this insignificant win will transform into a profound success.

For today, I needed to feel pulled out of the low phase, and I am grateful to the unseen forces—the wisdom in the books, the timing of the friend's call, and the permission I gave myself to rest—that provided exactly what was needed.

The Currency of Trust: Why My Peace is Not for Sale!!

 

​As a child and throughout my college years, I was wired for financial transparency and responsibility. I was the one who meticulously tracked accounts, not because I was stingy, but because I believed clarity fostered trust.

​In college, this reputation became a quiet badge of honor. I remember being chosen by my entire batch to handle the significant funds for a senior farewell. It was a proud moment—a powerful sign that my peers trusted my judgment and integrity completely. Even at home, I maintained this standard, managing to save a sizable amount from pocket money over four years while still prioritizing gifts for my family. I had a clear impression: my word was my bond when it came to money.

​When Trust Fails the Team Test

​This is why the transition to adult life was so jarring.

​I wish I could feel the same unqualified trust and faith from my immediate family that I once felt from an entire batch of college mates. It feels like a painful irony: What use is external validation when the core team—my own family—cannot be transparent?

​I know my skills are recognized, but there is a clear reluctance to admit reckless behavior or lack of planning. This isn't about blaming anyone; it’s about recognizing that this dynamic ultimately harms our collective growth and stability.

​The Hard Lesson: Detachment is Protection

​Lately, I’ve been observing a pattern of financial dealings being hidden from me.

​At first, this secrecy triggered profound pain. I would scream and yell, spending immense emotional energy trying to force transparency and fix the recklessness. I believed that my job was to manage the chaos to save the whole ship.

​But I've learned a crucial, difficult lesson.

​Even if we share a home and a future, his recklessness is not my cross to bear. Yes, a team achieves greater progress, and I mourn the solid, transparent partnership I deeply miss. However, I have learned I cannot attach my worth or my peace to a person unwilling to change.

​Until a person chooses to change, no one can change them. My highest responsibility now is not to manage his behavior, but to protect my peace. My energy is now fully devoted to building my own stable foundation and detaching from problems that I cannot solve. The currency of trust may be valuable, but the currency of my sanity is priceless.

A Message to Fellow Women

Your peace is the most valuable asset you possess. Stop wasting your energy managing the chaos of others. Take charge of your own financial literacy and build an independent hedge for your security, because your inner calm is non-negotiable.

भ्रम या हकीकत, बस यही जीवन!!

 

तुमने याद किया, क्या यह गुमान है,

या सचमुच की कोई बात है?

दिल और दिमाग का कैसा ये खेल है,

उलझी हुई हर रात है।

 

​क्यूँ सोचती हूँ, क्यूँ मैं न जानूँ,

शायद अभी तक भुला न पायी हूँ।

वही सब कुछ है, जो पहले था,

जैसे पहले थी, वैसी रही हूँ।

 

​एक आवाज़ भीतर आती है,

सुनती उसे बस मैं ही अकेली हूँ।

कहती है - "हँसते रहना तुम हमेशा,

उदास कभी न होना।"

The 5 minute action that could save a life!!

 We often feel helpless when faced with large, life-threatening diseases. We wish we could do more. But today, I want to share a profound truth: there is a life-saving action you can take right now, from your home, that takes less than five minutes. This isn't about donating money; it's about donating a piece of your biological blueprint to someone in urgent need. I’m talking about registering to become a potential Blood Stem Cell Donor.

For patients battling blood cancers and disorders, a stem cell transplant is often their only hope for survival. But finding a match is incredibly difficult. For many, the perfect match lies with a stranger who shares their genetic makeup. This is where you come in.

Your only immediate action is 5 minutes of your time to register.

Visit the Registry: Go to the DKMS website (or the recognized stem cell registry in your country).

Fill the Form: Complete a simple health and contact form. (This is the 5-minute commitment).

Receive the Swab Kit: The registry mails you a simple cotton swab kit.

Swab and Mail: You follow the instructions to quickly swab the inside of your cheeks and mail the kit back (pre-paid).

That's it. You are now in the database. You join a powerful, quiet force dedicated to giving someone a second chance at life.

The donation process is now non-surgical 90% of the time, similar to donating blood plasma. They simply filter the blood to collect the cells. Your commitment is a chance to be a match; your health is protected every step of the way.

In a world where we often feel our efforts are invisible, this small action is a guaranteed investment in the highest form of good. Take the 5 minutes. Be someone's hope.

Radha's Plight:The agony of Viraha!!

  O Radha Rani, Queen of my heart, as I bow before you on this auspicious Amla Navami, please grant me your divine grace and forgive this humble attempt to fathom and portray the ocean of your transcendent emotions.

✨ A Woman's Plight: The Unmarried Wife of Vrindavan ✨

The village sleeps, but the flute's call keeps a heart awake. In the cool darkness of the night, a woman walks a path laid out not by her own desire, but by the hands of fate and the weight of society. She is Radha, the very soul of divine love, yet bound by the most human of sorrows.

The Knot of Duty, The Vow of the Heart

She wears the sindoor and the bracelets of a wife, tied to a man—sometimes named Ayana, or Abhimanyu—whose presence in her life is but a shadow. The scriptures speak of him as a worldly husband, perhaps even one incapable of fulfilling his role, or a mere illusion created by a cosmic design (Yoga-Maya). This marriage, a necessary charade, seals her fate in the eyes of the world.

She has a home, a name, a position, but she lacks the one thing that truly defines a woman's life: a shared, reciprocated intimacy with her chosen love. Her husband is not a partner, not a confidante, but a keeper of an empty promise.

 The anklets chime for one, but the flame burns for another.

Love Beyond the Threshold

Her soul belongs entirely to Shyam, the dark-hued one who plays his hypnotic tune beneath the kadamba tree. He is her eternal consort, the embodiment of her every feeling. Yet, their bond is not the sanctioned, celebrated union of a husband and wife. It is the secret, sublime love of the Parakiya Rasa—a dangerous, rebellious love that defies all social boundaries.

She is a woman forever torn:

 * By Day: The dutiful bahu (daughter-in-law), serving in a house that does not hold her heart.

 * By Night: The fervent lover, meeting her Krishna in the stolen moments of the forest, risking her reputation, her honour, everything.

Her plight is the timeless tragedy of a woman whose love is profound, yet forever unacknowledged by the rules of her time. She is the queen of devotion, yet a prisoner of her marriage bed. She could not be with the one who made her life real, and she could not truly be with the one who made her life respectable.

Her sacrifice—to live a lie for the sake of a higher, purer love—makes her story an eternal testament. Radha's tears are not just for a lost lover, but for the inherent pain of the female heart forced to choose between Dharma (duty) and Prema (love).

She taught the world that true love is not about possession or marriage; it is about selfless, unending surrender. Her separation is not a tragedy, but a spiritual necessity—the fire that refined her love into pure gold, making her name forever inseparable from His: Radha-Krishna.