"the world"

  Every International Women’s Day, we hear the same poetic refrain: Women are the ultimate multipliers. They take a house and make it a home; they take a seed and make it a life. Even the periodic table gets recruited for the cause— Fe-Male , the "Iron" human. ​It’s a beautiful sentiment. But as I sat with it, my curiosity began to itch. If a human—specifically a woman—is a natural expander of whatever she receives, we have to ask a terrifying question: What happens when she is given nothing? Or worse, what happens when she is given lack, silence, or suppression? ​In many cultures, including here in India, the "pedestal" is often a cage. We praise the strength of women while failing to provide the support that sustains that strength. If the inherent quality of the feminine is to expand, then: ​ Neglect becomes a deep, hollow void. ​ Silence expands into a lifetime of suppression. ​ Hardship becomes a generational weight. ​Is it fair to call someone ...

 We often think of our abilities as fixed—like a muscle or a skill we’ve mastered. But psychology suggests our "inner world" is much more fragile than we admit. It is constantly being built, or broken, by the voices around us. Imagine a basketball court. On one side, a professional player; on the other, a girl who has never held a ball. When the girl tries to score, she misses. But then, she is blindfolded. Every time she throws, the crowd erupts in cheers, shouting that she hit the target perfectly. She hasn't—but she believes she has. When the blindfold is removed, she steps up and sinks the shot. The "fake" confidence became a real skill. Then, the professional takes his turn. He is blindfolded, and even when his shots are perfect, the crowd groans in disappointment. They mock his "misses." When his blindfold is removed, the expert—the man who has done this a thousand times—misses the basket with his eyes wide open. The takeaway is chilling: Constan...

  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: ...