Hmmm...

I am sure many who grew up in the seventies , eighties and nineties will relate to this. Summer vacations were not travel plans or resort bookings. We went to a relative’s house for a few days, and after that the long stretch of holidays was completely on us. No schedules, no outings, no classes. Just long empty days staring at us, and we had to decide how to kill our boredom. Most homes had no tv. Even if there was one, it came on only for a fixed time. Till then the house would be silent, except for the pressure cooker whistle, someone sweeping the floor, or neighbours calling each other from window to window. So we found our own fun. Pulling out old magazines, tearing pictures and sticking them in a scrap book . Using colour pencils to draw anything that came to mind. Reading the same old book again because that was the only book at home. And waiting for evening, because that is when the whole lane came out to play. The sound of someone shouting, “Come down, we are starting t...

I was at my construction site one morning and what I found was that every single worker there was from Bihar or from the nearby belt. Men who had travelled hundreds of kilometres, leaving behind their families, their land, and their comfort. Faces burnt by the sun, but eyes full of quiet strength. That same day, I had called a landscape designer to finalise the deal. While talking, he mentioned his years in the Middle East. He said he had worked there for more than twenty years before moving back to start his own firm here. That is when something hit me hard. What Bihar is for India, India is for the world. The same story, just a different level. The same effort, only the distance changes. People from Bihar and the nearby states carry the weight of our cities. They build our homes, clean our roads, cook our food, and work in silence. Many times we see them, but we don’t really look at them. We talk about them as a group, never as people with dreams. Now look at us, the larger pict...

There is something about the night that always feels different. From our childhood days, we have all felt it in some way. Remember those evenings when we would sneak out with friends after dinner, just to walk down the same roads we travelled every day? In the daylight, those roads felt ordinary. But at night, they became something else. The air felt cooler, the shadows longer, and the silence louder. There was a strange mix of fear and excitement. You know the road like the back of your hand, yet in the night, it feels like you are discovering it for the first time. And then there are nights when you walk hand in hand with someone you love. The same street, the same sky, but somehow the stars seem closer, the breeze feels softer, and every silence speaks more than words can. The world slows down a little, and you just exist in that moment. So what is it about the night that makes everything feel so special? Maybe it is because the noise of the world fades away, and what remains is yo...

Fresh Tea It was a lazy Sunday morning. The kind of day when you have no big plans, just a few things lying around waiting to be done. Meera was cleaning the cupboard in their bedroom, pulling out old files, boxes, and a pile of forgotten memories. Rajesh walked in with two cups of tea. “Looks like a war zone here. Need a soldier?” he said with a smile. She laughed and nodded. As they sat together, going through old photographs and birthday cards , the room was filled with laughter and warmth. Then, from one of the boxes, Meera took out a small, gift-wrapped pen . Her smile faded. “This is the pen you brought for your boss, right?” she asked softly. Rajesh looked at it. “Yes, I think so. Why?” “You remember that fight we had after that? You said you forgot my birthday that year because of office work. But you didn’t forget to buy this pen,” she said, her tone turning sharp. Rajesh sighed. “Meera, that was fifteen years ago.” “Yes, but it still hurts,” she whispered. “You alway...

After so many years, Natraj took the pain of finding each one from his intermediate batch and created a WhatsApp group. The group was buzzing from day one. “Hey, where are you now?” “Still in Delhi.” “Wow, after 34 years, can’t believe I’m talking to you again.” Everyone wanted to know how their classmates were doing. Each time a new person joined, the group would light up. There was teasing, laughter, old incidents shared, and plenty of photos from the past. Slowly the group grew to around 120 people. Then Pinky from Mumbai suggested, “This is our 35th year of passing. Why don’t we all meet up for a reunion?” The group went wild. “Yes, let’s do it.” “I’m in.” “June is perfect.” People started posting pictures of their tickets. “NZ confirmed!” “Canada done!” “South Africa booking.” The Hyderabad friends took the responsibility of hosting. Close to 100 people showed up. Laughter, music, drinks, dance — it felt like college all over again. No one looked like they were 50 plus. By evening...

Today is Onam. A harvest festival that has such deep meaning in Kerala’s culture and history. Yet, when I scroll through conversations and posts, what I mostly see is talk about the sadhya and the new clothes. The feast is grand and the outfits are beautiful, but is that all we want to pass on to the next generation? The real value of Onam was never just about what is on the plate or in the wardrobe. It was about unity, equality, and gratitude for nature’s blessings. This is not just about Onam. Think of other festivals we celebrate. Ganesh festival rituals never asked for loud music or massive processions. Deepavali never demanded deafening crackers, it was meant to be about lighting your home. Dandiya was about community joy, not blasting speakers all night. Burning the effigy of Ravan in Dussehra, carrying out tazias in Moharram, or decorating trees at Christmas all had meaning and purpose. But what have we turned them into today. If we can burst crackers for IPL wins or weddings, t...

In our service industry, we often meet clients who carry their ego on their sleeves. Recently, I had an incident that reminded me why I choose to stay calm. I was in a group chat with my team and the client. As usual, the client’s tone was not very cordial. Every explanation my team gave was treated like a challenge. It was very clear that the mistake was on the client’s side. I could see my team getting frustrated, and even their language was starting to show it. Before things could heat up, I stepped in and told the client that we would sort it out and just needed some time. A couple of hours later, the client messaged saying the matter was resolved on their side. Ironically, that was exactly what my team had been trying to explain to them from the start. That weekend, during our team meeting, they asked me, “Why do you never lose your cool? Why don’t you put your points aggressively?” I told them there are many reasons for that, and I want to share them here. 1. Winning the moment v...