My Undisclosed World Of Thoughts

(5 minutes read) With over 6 months to the last post and 2.5 years to the last article, I’m making a habit of spacing out  writing. Spacing out writing gives you large pockets of time to think about anything under the sun. The result, often, is a mature point of view after covering multiple perspective or sometimes just a bag of crap. I hope I avoid the fate of the latter option. So, I read this article recently on how busy life is getting and how we’re over-burdened to the point of exhaustion ( Link here ). As a closet workaholic whose reaction to organized chaos is delight on most occasions, I tend to agree that we’ve driven ourselves away from the basics and towards the idea of success/achievement at alarming Usain Bolt speeds. To justify my expensive MBA degree, I have explored this issue using a framework which can otherwise be communicated in a simpler manner. The list below is not exhaustive and possibly not a compilation of the most logically sanitized arguments....

आज सब्ज़ी वाले  की दुकान पर सड़े हुए टमाटर देख के ख़याल आया की तराज़ू के वज़न पे कट रही है ये नाज़ुक ज़िंदगी   हमारी कभी हुआ करते थे हम भी राजा अपनी बादशाहत के आज कल नौकर बने घूमते हैं घर के काम निपटाने के लिए कभी आलू कम पड जाता है तो कभी प्याज़ का रोना आता है कभी दाले नहीं ग़लती यहाँ तो कभी केला पड़े पड़े सड़ जाता हैं क्या था कसूर उस प्यारी सी आलू गोबी का इस दुनिया मे जो बैठी रही बाहर सारी रात एक मुलाक़ात की याद में तन्हा सुबह आते आते ढल गयी थी ज़िंदगी की चिंगारी उसके आस से भरे दिल मे ना मिली मुलाक़ात, मिली तो बस बिरयानी के कारण बेवफ़ाई और अकेलापन बस यही सारी तक़लीफें होती तो होती क्या ज़िंदगी पर जीने के लिए कपड़ा और मकान भी तो चाहिए यहाँ कपड़े धोना दुश्मन से जंग करना लगता है कभी पाउडर कम पड़ जाता है तो कभी पानी नही आता है कभी सब सही हो भी गया तो भी कहाँ चैन मिले गंदे कपड़ो को सही वक़्त पर एलेक्ट्रिसि...

Bustling with energy in a small corner of mindfulness holding on to the sliver of truth, seething with rage staring into nothingness with sheer disinterest towards anything with the mind trapped in the confines of a cage Thoughts of a world that could be reality of sweet goodbyes, happy endings and endless care deep forgotten longings have resurfaced again seems like a distant feeling from the past, far too familiar Stuck in a disarray of my own principles and morals a deep concoction of my own perils served on an emphatic platter any movement - forward or backwards is lined with dire consequences I stand here on the edge of conscience unwilling to plunge When the friendly is misconstrued, when the convivial is misjudged when the trusted is mistrusted, when the benign is mistaken the tall shards of glass come tumbling down on the bedrock of reality when your fundamental idea of integrity is bruised and shaken The mind still yearns for moments that will never ex...

Date: August 20 th 2014. Place: Hyderabad. A bag came into my life. It was a green colour Quechua Forclaz 60 litre bag. The bag was pretty and I was immediately hooked. The bag belonged to Majid Siddique who worked with me at Deloitte then. I borrowed it from him for a trek to the Jhindagada peak, the highest peak of Andhra Pradesh. He also gave me trekking shoes that I would rather not talk about. I was astounded at how much the bag could fit. I was so excited that I put everything in it that I could carry. The result was that on my very first 3-day trek, I carried a load of 12kgs on my back. The problem, however, was that I weighed almost the same as the bag (See photo below for reference). Carrying the bag was an honour that came at a big cost. I was depleted by the time I returned from the trek. Truly Madly Deeply spent.  Skinny Paradise (Left) In front of the Peak - (Right) On the peak(Literally on cloud Nine. I counted) But as they say, the first time...

Dedicated to our guide Pushkar Singh who led us through the Roopkund expedition. He recently passed away trying to save a trekker who slipped on the trail. The news saddened us immensely and reminded us of our own trek. Pushkar hand-held us through tough stretches after we slipped on the trail ourselves. May your soul rest in Peace in those beautiful mountains, brother. Edit(on 20th September): After a phone call recently, we got to know that Pushkar is alive. This was great news for us. The Roopkund memory shall still remain a sweet one. :) In the midst of those cold windy paths, Lies a valley surrounded by those beautiful clouds The clouds sweep around the valley pouring down rain, When they do move away, they bring in the bright sunlight The paths I walk are long and arduous, They ought to be for they lead to harsh terrains, Beyond these terrains lie the lands of extreme beauty, The view shall more than make up for the hardship, I hope I take one step...

To give you a background on the whole issue, the barber shop I frequented for hair-cuts no longer exists. The building it was in, was broken down for road extension. The government has triumphed. The shop is no more. What has remained, however, is a hollow structure that shall be brought down very soon. The horror/hilarity of all the hair-cuts gone wrong and my love for Dead Poets society has resulted in this poem. Here goes: You stood there majestic on the bottle-necked road, In the stark cold, in the dry heat, even in the torrential rains did you open Gentlemen, some bearded while some with long hair frequented you, Coming out child-like was treasured by one and all. You stood there with open arms, wide doors and sharp scissors, Welcoming anyone who'd come to look more civilized, You made us wait with the odd newspaper, The pictures of beautiful women on Page 3 more than made up for the delay. We waited for you to wield your artwork on us, Ever so p...

The stage is set and the lights are on, Curious faces wait in anticipation A dusty jacket waits on the empty chair of the dressing room, In the air is a feeling of celebration The crowd looks on to the stage, waiting The stage is adorned in pretty lights, The majestic carpet hugs the floor closely It all makes for a glorious sight He sits there lost in his own deep thoughts a stellar performance is to be delivered Visualizing the evening ahead in his mind while the quandary within him quivers He’s just had another fight with his child, His partner has long left him in the past His thoughts wander between now and 10 years ago, He wonders if happiness ever does last The time is right, the call is made and he sets off, Everyone’s been waiting for him all night, He’s quite the star as he enters with the widest of smiles And the crowd cheers and thunders in delight He starts off slow and builds up the tempo as he goes People guffaw with plain joy on t...