kids

Let’s Dive Into 2022

Its been a while and this is a fresh dive. Over the last few months, I vowed myself into silence on most platforms and friendships. The focus was on how quiet I could become and stay silent. Searching for meaning and purpose as we dealt with change, losss, awareness.

Perhaps, implicit in that search was a fond hope that at the end of it, there will be a renewal of sorts. A pot of gold, if you will!

September. October. Novermber. December. Each month came. And went. Like passing clouds. Somewhere I drew a line in the sand for the silence. 2021.

Every passing day of 2021, the quiet, the work and deep private conversations have left me clutching new ideas and plans. And just like that, 2021 ended. And it is 2022.

Happy New Year

For the past several years I have put out a word of the year. Last year I sat down to reflect on the year gone by, my own aspirations for the future, talked to people and then chose one word. Adding meaning and structure to something that was more whimsical earlier. And then, the year took over. I never got to post it. So much for planning!

This year, I hope to do better. On all fronts. And perhaps there is an ounce more of energy powering that statement. (Does this count as a renewal?)

Previous posts are here and here.

Dive

Yes. Dive. Thats the word of the year for me for 2022. The dictionary states that dive is “to plunge into water intentionally and especially headfirst”.

Well thats a pretty accurate verb for my aspirations for the year.

There are ever so well made plans that need focused execution.
There is work and research to deep dive into.
Yes, the water is cold and God knows how I will land, but then, I won’t know until I dive!

Shel Silverstein is a personal favourite.

He says it like no one else.

You’ve been up on that diving board
Making sure that it’s nice and straight.
You’ve made sure that it’s not too slick.
You’ve made sure it can stand the weight.
You’ve made sure that the spring is tight.
You’ve made sure that the cloth won’t slip.
You’ve made sure that it bounces right,
And that your toes can get a grip
And you’ve been up there since half past five
Doin’ everything… but DIVE

And the little miss..

The little miss adds a twist or two that completes my thoughts. She has never failed to do so. Not this time either.

She painted those fun dolphins, when I spoke to her about Dive.

And according to her, the best way to dive is to do it with friends.
And then, you always come up refreshed after a dive!

Plus, Dolphins are fun to be with and intelligent beings. “You are intelligent, arent you?”, she asks. Some questions, I leave for another time. This one belongs to that category!

For now, I am staying focused on ‘Dive’! Thats good enough! 🙂

In the spirit of diving, I hope to be more regular here. Let’s dive into 2022

Happy New Year people.

Coffee and Conversations: Wisdom in Every Sip

My dad always said, “Coffee drinkers are better thinkers.” He was a wise man. I’ve never had a reason to doubt him.

These days, “Coffee?” is the answer to everything.

Questions, answers, problems—it doesn’t matter. Coffee solves it all. Especially in Mumbai. The city hums with its energy, fuelled by endless cups.

Maybe it’s the caffeine. Or maybe coffee is just a great excuse to pause, talk, and think.

Either way, I’m not arguing. Coffee?

Castles in the Sand: Life Lessons from Waves

We built castles in the sand. Small ones, with tiny towers and a moat we thought was perfect. It took us hours to make them.

Then, out of nowhere, a wave would come crashing in. In seconds, all that effort was gone. The castle became just a pile of wet sand.

What did we do? We laughed. And then, we started building all over again. No complaints. No worries. Just joy.

It makes me think—why do we worry so much in life? Plans fall apart, things don’t go as expected, and we spend so much time feeling bad about it.

Maybe the beach teaches us something important. Life is about enjoying the building, the trying, and the doing. When a wave comes, we can laugh and start again.

The fun is in the building. So why not build anyway?

Where Does the Sea Begin? A Child’s Questions at Marine Drive

We sit by the sea, watching its endless waves. She sits beside me, tossing questions like pebbles into the water.

“Where does the sea begin and where does it end?”
“Can we build a new sea?”
“If we can’t build a new sea, then we must take care of this one, right?”

I nod. She’s here for answers. I came here for the breeze. But she’s stirring up a storm.

Somewhere, I hope the right men and women are listening. Because the sea has no voice—except for those who ask the right questions.

 (at Marine Drive Mumbai)

A Bird in Hand—And the Joy of Watching It Appear

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.

Markets, Masks, and Identity: The Soul of San Francisco

A city’s character isn’t found in its skyscrapers or postcard views. It’s in what is sold, what is bought, and who walks its streets. Its markets, its chaos, its colours—these are where a city’s soul truly rests.

San Francisco wears many faces—quite literally, in the form of masks for sale. Mickey Mouse, superheroes, nameless grins and exaggerated expressions. Playful? Yes. But also a quiet reflection of the city itself. Inclusive. Plural. Always shifting.

No single mask defines it. No single story captures it. But together, they form a place that welcomes all, wears change effortlessly, and lets you be whoever you choose to be.

That’s San Francisco. A city of many faces, all of them its own.

A Pink Bicycle, A Rearview Mirror, and A Zillion Memories

You can’t drive forward while staring only at the rearview mirror. But every now and then, a glance back reveals pieces of you—the roads you’ve taken, the people who’ve shaped you, the moments that still linger.

This random pink bicycle, caught in my mirror at Nariman Point, wasn’t just a cycle. It was a portal—to childhood races, to friendships that felt endless, to laughter that echoed down familiar streets.

Memories don’t hold us back. They fuel us forward. They turn a mundane day into something meaningful.

What’s in your rearview mirror today?

Before You Sail, Build the Boat and the Vision

Boats at shore always seem out of place. They aren’t built to sit still—they belong to the waves, the winds, the unknown.

Watching them, ready and restless, just beside the sea, you can almost feel it—the pull of adventure, the promise of distance.

But every long voyage is actually two voyages. The first happens in the mind—where dreams set sail long before the hull touches water. The second, on land—where boats are built strong, crafted well, ready to endure what lies ahead.

Because when the mind doesn’t imagine wide enough, or the boat isn’t built strong enough, voyages don’t happen the way they should.

So, what voyages are you on?
How far have you traveled in your mind?
And most importantly—how strong is your boat?

Cotton, Clips, and Colours: A Lesson in Childlike Creativity

Swabs of cotton, clothesline clips, and a splash of colours. In the hands of kids, that’s all it took for magic to unfold.

No TVs, no tablets, no digital distractions—just pure imagination at play. The kind that turns ordinary objects into extraordinary stories. The kind that reminds us that creativity doesn’t need a screen, just space to roam free.

All it takes is a little belief—in kids, in their boundless curiosity, in their ability to turn the simplest things into something wonderful.

Yes, magic. That’s the word. And kids own it.

(at Bangkok, Thailand)

Splash for Fun, Swim for Distance: A Lesson from the Pool

To splash around is pure joy. Water flying, laughter echoing—no real destination, just the thrill of movement.

But splashing doesn’t take you far. To cross the pool, it takes strokes, rhythm, glides, and quiet effort beneath the surface.

Some live life in a series of splashes—all energy, no direction. Others move smoothly, silently, covering distance with precision.

The little miss in the pool isn’t interested in all that. She just wants to splash. And that’s okay.

Because in a kid’s world, the fun is in the splash.

And maybe, just maybe, we should let them have that—before the swimming begins.

(at Bangkok, Thailand)