Same Ground, Different Journeys
From my window, the small plane sits quietly on the tarmac. Side by side, yet worlds apart. Mine is bigger, his is smaller. And for a second, I almost dismiss it.
But then, I remind myself—size is just perspective.
This seat is mine for this journey. That plane is his. One isn’t better than the other, just different.
Because in the end, it’s not about the perch, it’s about the flight.
And once we take off, the sky doesn’t care how big the plane is.
I spotted those words on what remains of the Berlin Wall. “One day we will be in charge.”
It wasn’t just graffiti. It was restless energy, an unshaken belief that the future can be different. Must be different.
That spirit—the refusal to accept things as they are, the audacity to imagine something better—is what drives progress.
And when I see the youth of today walking tall, carrying that same fearless energy, it fills me with hope. Because youth isn’t just age—it’s a state of mind.
And the future? It belongs to those bold enough to claim it.
(at Berlin, Germany)
Where we stand depends on where we sit. The stances we take, the identities we shape—for ourselves and for others—are built on what sits in our minds.
And our minds? They are prime real estate. Possibly the most expensive in the world.
Thoughts are tenants. Some pay rent in clarity and purpose. Others squat in doubt and fear. But once they settle in, they shape how we see, speak, and stand.
So, let’s be careful. Choose wisely who and what gets a seat in our minds. Because what sits in us will decide what stands we take.
We learn from history that we don’t learn much from history. It stuck.
At the Brandenburg Gate, once a symbol of division, the past now plays dress-up. Army gear, old flags—props for tourists. For a small fee, of course.
Once, men fought and died for these symbols. Now, they’re souvenirs. Time does that—turns battlegrounds into backdrops.
It made me think. Identity is a border of its own. What defines us, also excludes.
So, what defines you? What else could you become?
And the bigger question—what borders exist in your mind that you don’t even know are there?
(at Brandenburg Gate (Potsdam)
What are you working on? And how are you working on whatever you are working on?
The Albert Victor Bridge in Madurai was built in 1886 and was supposed to last a 100 years! It’s still standing. Being of value and use to the day. Long after the engineers went back and the river ran dry.
Good work solves problems. Great work solves problems, through time as well. The option to do both exists all the time. The choices are ours to make.
(at Madurai, India)
They say a bird in hand is worth two in the bush. But what about a bird drawn on a hand?
For a child, it’s magic. A few careful strokes, a little waiting, and suddenly, a bird appears—etched in Mehendi, alive in her imagination. The flutter in her eyes, the quiet twitch at the corner of her mouth—it’s a joy no real bird could match.
It’s not the big toys that bring the deepest happiness. Sure, they shine. But the small moments, the ones spent laughing, waiting, watching something take shape—those stay green in the mind.
Because joy isn’t just in what we hold. It’s in what we create.
The gates open to a quiet courtyard, framed by four pillars. Step past them, and a ruffled mud road meanders ahead, leading into the lake, beyond which stand great trees. Keep walking, and the rolling hills stretch out, pristine and endless.
The village temple marks time through its many celebrations, but for a city dweller standing here, the past whispers through the landscape. The roads his parents walked suddenly feel clearer—long roads that were never roads at all.
Their journeys began not by asking “Is there a road?” but by stepping forward anyway. Their dreams were never limited by paths already drawn. They made their roads.
Perhaps that is the lesson these great doors hold—step through, look ahead, and go.
A new year dawns, carrying new hopes, new possibilities. But for something new to emerge, something old must go.
What are you holding onto so tightly that it’s keeping you from transforming? What would change if you let it go?
Go ahead, ask yourself. Reflect. Release. Make space for the new.
Happy New Year! Here’s to happy times and new beginnings. Good luck meeting a new you—same time, next year.
#NewYearReflections #LetGoToGrow #NakkiLakeMoments
Mountains don’t just stand—they stretch. They invite, they teach, they expand your sense of what’s possible.
When the clouds kiss the peaks, and the ground beneath hums with quiet excitement, your eyes drift—not just to the heights, but to the horizon.
And there, beyond the first set of peaks, another set awaits—wrapped in their own clouded embrace, whispering the same story.
You smile. You understand expanse. Not just of the mountains, but of perspective, possibility, and wonder.
Because some lessons can’t be taught. Only experienced.
The searing rush to the top—mirrored perfectly by the dark glass façade that reflects everything but reveals nothing.
Standing on the street below, neck craned, you can’t help but admit—it’s beautiful. Not in a warm, familiar way, but in a way that speaks of ambition, precision, and power.
The light dances, the shadows shift, and the building transforms with every passing cloud.
The interplay of light and dark always has this effect. It hides, reveals, and reminds—that beauty isn’t just in what you see, but in what you perceive.