All posts tagged: Writing

Here we go again

We all say that to ourselves. The question is: when do you say it? Do you say it when you are being rejected, failing, stuck, panicked, overwhelmed or alone? Or do you say it when you’re engaged, winning, changing things and are in the groove? Because the more you rehearse this feeling; this saying, the more it’s going to happen. We get what we expect. And we expect what we get. The easiest way to change this cycle is to alter the scale we play in. If you keep failing at the big stuff, it’s worth honing the habit of succeeding at the small stuff first. And if you’re finding yourself in a rut, a cycle of failure, walk away from that series of projects and find a new field to plant your seeds in. Advertisements

Digital mind

The world has long gone past finding comfort for humans. Comfort seems secondary. They might only say it has only started. Facebook and Google will leave no stone unturned to get even the last human trying to hide in his cave to the world. The momentum of the world trade and news constantly travelling is like making too much noise standing. IIam certain the race is not to find god but to become formless while living. One can argue, we are our own god and only us can stop ourselves from doing or not doing. In doing they might have exceeded their own expectations but every achievement is not the end of the story. The story keeps becoming. It is neverending. It merely adds another layer of truth, another variation of the result. How ever much our minds become digital, we are still a long way to forget our mothers.

Teachers Day at school

Dawn 12 7:50 AM New Delhi Teachers day is somehow another Mother’s Day. Mother is our first teacher. First person who taught us love, and taught us how and what to eat. It was a good day at school. Children had come feeling new. They had come with look alike dresses of teachers. Its fifth class’s last year at school. Children grow at a rate of a rocket going to space. Its a shame we don’t have enough space to add at least three more classes. School till VIIIth helps children to get their minds better in shape and likewise also gives a chance to see and learn with the same children till they hit puberty; an important period for children emotionally, mentally and physically. It also gives us a chance to talk on varied subjects and open them up to the world unlike children who leave a school who is only till Fifth. Many a times parents had come requesting if the same can happen, if school can add only three more classes, as …

Art of Sleeping

Dawn 11 10:35 PM New Delhi Time stops for body but the mind evolves into a space that connects the ethereal and disconnects the physical. Isn’t this happening a magic in itself? In sleep gets consumed all the good, bad and ugly actions. After all of this we get another day. Another set of limited hours that can be spent any which way we want. For most a time table is there in place already in terms of job and other engagements. Thus gets very less space to do anything else, happening of anything new is rare. By the time noon ends; for most the day becomes similar as the hundreds of days that have already been dished out, No one in the moment believes that this breath is temporary, that this body is going to go. It doesn’t seem possible. Probably it doesn’t even cross ones mind. What could be the solution? What is that meaning then everyone is looking for in life? Well, it is certainly different for different people but there are …

Whatever Blinks, dies.

Dawn 6 25-26 August 18 12:50 AM Delhi A Pillar is there. She. A god can be either. It has been there ever since Dakshina Kashi happened. I slide curtain from my seventeenth floor to see rain. There is no rain. But its dark. Not dark of the night, clouds. They are going to be there for next six days. It was a strange day, filled with particles in the air and motion. Breaths aren’t deep. Food is untimely. Months end is taking some time to be stable. Rakshabandhan came. My father’s sister was here. Her face swollen with emotion. I had seen here three and heard several times this year. This year she lost her son. He was drunk when he died. And lost her husband few months after. Roberto Calasso’s work was new to me a week ago. But his writing made me dive. not just into the depths of myth. But Personally his narration has been a revelation. The way he skated past through stories like yesterday’s history taking big leaps yet …