"the world"

  The first Women’s Day celebration I ever took part in was in 2007, shortly after I joined my first organization, IBM. I had only been there for two months when an HR email arrived, mandating that we join the celebration in the cafeteria. There was even a dress code: a saree in shades of yellow, green, or pink. Since I didn’t own any sarees back then, I attended the celebration in the same yellow dress I had worn for my interview. ​Every "first" experience holds a special space in our minds, and I remember so many details from that day. I met several inspiring women leaders heading our department; they shared their journeys with us while we enjoyed delicious treats. ​Later, at NTT Data, the celebrations felt different but equally thoughtful. We were greeted the moment we arrived at the office with roses, beautiful cards, and chocolates. However, not every workplace follows these traditions; I don't recall any specific celebrations during my time at Wipro. ​Time flies ...

 Every time the moon dares to cross the sun, it triggers a peculiar festival in my hometown. The 'Gatekeepers of the Galaxy' issue a 100-page manual of Do’s and Don’ts: Don't cook, don't eat, don't look up, don't breathe. We call it a restriction, but for the Odia kitchen, it’s a marathon. We aren't skipping meals; we are frantically frying Puri and Dum Aloo to beat the Paka Nisedha (deadline). I’m still waiting for a nutritionist to explain the celestial logic where steamed rice is 'dangerous' but deep-fried dough is 'divine.' Then there are the Hetuvadis(rationalists) . To prove the moon is just a rock, they go on a 'Mutton-Biryani' offensive, while news channels host shouting matches that would put a fish market to shame.​It’s fascinating—a mere shadow can turn our bustling cities into ghost towns more effectively than a global pandemic lockdown.​ So, what are we? Superstitious? Rationalists? Or just hungry? Today, while the debat...

I saw a headline today about banks "mis-selling" financial products—basically, selling people things they don't need just to meet a goal. It hit home because, for years, my Relationship Manager (RM) has been trying to push "ULIPs" (a mix of insurance and investment) on me by calling them "tax savers" or "arbitrage funds." In my last talk with a wealth manager, I asked: "If I were your family, would you really tell me to buy this?" He insisted he’d tell his own mother to buy it. I felt for him—he’s likely just trying to hit a target—but I knew better. I asked for the official IRDA prospectus (the legal rulebook of the plan) instead of a simple spreadsheet. I haven't heard from them since! Lesson 1: Always ask for the official paperwork. Knowledge is your best shield. A few months ago, my account was marked "irregular," and fees were deducted without explanation. I traveled 20km to my old branch, followed their instructi...

  ​Have you recently learned something new that you simply could not have mastered without technology? ​For me, the digital world hasn’t just been about "technical skills." It has been a decade-long mentor in the crafts that make a home feel like a home. ​In 2012, I sat with a screen and a needle, teaching myself the intricate, raised textures of Brazilian embroidery through YouTube. By 2020, that same digital guidance helped me conquer the intimidation of a sewing machine , moving from basic stitches to full projects. And just today? I stood in my kitchen, successfully making amla ka muraba for the first time in my life, guided by a video that made a traditional process feel simple. ​Whether it’s SEO, video editing, or my brother learning to master the guitar and skates, technology has been our "super-power." But to my child, who thinks I was born in "ancient times," this isn't a miracle—it’s just the air he breathes. ​There is a famous saying: ...

 We often think of the comments left on our old posts as mere digital footprints. But sometimes, they are more like a lighthouse beam caught in a bottle—waiting fifteen years for us to finally see the light. Recently, I revisited a post from early 2011 about a school essay competition. It was a story about how my father’s literary depth helped me win a prize, but also how the world sometimes hesitates when a child thinks "too differently." Tucked away in the comments was a response left in July of that year by an anonymous reader. It has been nearly fifteen years, but the words felt like a sudden hand on my shoulder: "Follow ur mind & Heart, but before that ask ur soul IS THIS WHT U WANT.." In 2011, I responded with the polite intellect of a young woman who thought she knew her path. I didn't realize then that the commenter wasn't just engaging in a philosophical debate. They were standing at a crossroads, watching me prepare to walk away, and they were ...

 Today, my internet went down. It’s funny how "outdated" it feels to be offline for even a few hours. Even those of us born in the 80s—who remember a world before the buzz of a smartphone—struggle to adjust. ​When I told my son to imagine a time when I lived without a TV, a fridge, or a phone, he looked at me with genuine wonder. His only question? "Did you live in a 'kaccha' house or a 'pucca' house?" To a child of the digital age, a life without modern appliances sounds like ancient history. ​But in the silence of the internet shutdown, I found a different kind of connection. After finishing my Shivratri fast yesterday, I spent the day reading the newspaper, diving into my books, and taking a long-deserved nap. Without the digital noise, my mind began to wander through the stories I encountered. ​While scrolling through some saved articles, I stumbled upon a sobering statistic: most living organ donors today are women. It struck me how, irresp...