My Undisclosed World Of Thoughts

Unsolved is that math problem from ten years ago That geometry problem with triangles of torment and angles of anguish I tried this formula and that random trick I’d learnt Tallying those equations and reaching a dead-end every time The problem remained unsolved for days at a stretch Until I gave up on it and forgot about it completely I found other easier problems to solve meanwhile Pleasing myself, inflating my ego, giving me a solver’s afterglow I solved many a problem over the years hence Not all mathematical - some matters of the mind, some problems of the heart But one fine day I encountered what looked like a similar problem Those same triangles of torment, those same angles of anguish My hands trembled with an eerie sense of familiarity – it was the same problem It seem like I’d seen a long lost love, that I knew so much yet nothing about I picked up the pen as I did resolve and gave it what would be my one last try To my utte...

Distance makes the heart grow fonder, they all say and proclaim Yet the same distance when violated could now make the heart sicker We live in these social distancing times, socially distraught and disturbing times But is my distance from you only physical or social and not emotional in nature? It took a disease for us to distance ourselves socially from our fellow beings Yet it had already been a while since we distanced ourselves from the ones we so loved These night-outs, drinking, dancing and the endless noise to drown the inner voice Has not only distanced me from you but from my own true naked self These hollow days of endless reflection only embolden these feelings further That this distance would make the heart grow fonder only if the heart was ever there. . . . Peace!

(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...