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?
Objects have character. Don’t they? This brass kettle from another era sat quietly, serving filter coffee and cardamom tea for generations. Imagine what it has seen!
Families growing, stories flowing, and lives unfolding—all while it stayed still.
Sometimes, I wish it could talk, spilling tales of the people and the times. But its dents and marks do the talking. They hint at the lives it touched.
So, I let my imagination take over and weave my own stories.
After all, isn’t that what character is—a silent storyteller of time?
It’s not always about the weight. It’s about how we carry it. A heavy object isn’t just physics. The mind plays its part, adding or easing the load. What’s weighing you down today? A worry, a regret, or just a bad day?
Sometimes, the trick isn’t to put it down but to carry it differently. Shift your perspective. Find a new balance. After all, the mind can make even the heaviest burden feel lighter—or unbearable. So, how will you carry your weight today? Lighten up.
You might just surprise yourself.
A mound of clay transforms into pots in hours. Each pot looks identical. But I wonder—does the potter feel the same shaping every one? Is there joy in the rhythm, or is it just routine?
Each curve of the clay carries a trace of his hand, maybe even his mood. A fleeting emotion, frozen in form. What stories would he share if asked about the pots?
Or perhaps, like the clay, he’s shaped by the act of creating—silent, steady, and a little mysterious.
A potter’s world is one of quiet emotion, moulded into shape.
There’s something magical about the ocean. She kisses the shore endlessly, even when sent away. Her waves are calm one moment, terrifying the next. Yet, she never fails to soothe a restless soul.
Add to this the South China Sea at sunset—hues so breathtaking they need no filter. The sky and sea meet in a silent embrace, as if sharing secrets. It’s a moment that captures the ocean’s timeless charm: her power, her grace, and her quiet promise to amaze, always. Sometimes, all it takes is a glance at her to find peace.
(at Kota Kinabalu)
Travel does more than take you places—it puts you face to face with your biases. It forces you to notice what you usually ignore. And suddenly, new possibilities appear.
It’s not about ‘just seeing.’ It’s about feeling, learning, and understanding. When you travel with intent, the world becomes richer. You notice details, connect with people, and see life from another angle.
That’s when travel truly keeps you alive—by opening your mind and reshaping the way you see the world.
Bill Bryson often says it like none else.
And isn’t that true? We rush to make life easier, happier, more fulfilled. Yet, in the hustle, we forget to pause and ask if it’s all meaningful.
What if we shifted focus?
What if we sought less, simplified more, and made space for what truly counts? Comfort and happiness are fleeting; meaning endures. Perhaps it’s time to pause and ponder.
It’s the same Sun that will pop out of the east tomorrow morning. Yet, today’s sunset helps us keep score that one more year has melted. It’s the 31st of December. And this is the ‘Annual Sunset’! Sunsets are amongst the most enticing of reminders that one more block of time is gone for good. The annual sunset on can be sentimental. Partly, because the world seems eager to be done with it and embrace the shiny’, ‘new’ year!
So, its time to change the printed calendar that hangs on the wall. I have to take care to write ‘2018’ instead of ‘2017’ on the cheques that I sign. Other than that, nothing changes. Of course, tonight some folks will move in the name of dance, to random noise that’s called music. Everybody will wish each other ‘Happy New Year’ and then go about living their lives with renewed fervour.
By the 8th of Jan, 25% of resolutions “have fallen by the wayside”. “And by the time the year ends, fewer than 10 percent have been fully kept”, says a piece in the New York Times. Thats a colossal underperformance by corporate standards, won’t you think? (Do give the piece a read. Very good pointers )
That of course, is a limited view. Thank God!
What would we do if there was just no chance in hell that we could begin all over again? Even if we knew in the innermost recesses of our hearts that it is the same Sun that will show up tomorrow. That it’s sinking into the west doesn’t sink with it our warts and wiggles. I wouldn’t mind it taking along with it the credit card bill, the lump of fat on the hip and the sinus in the head. Alas! That said, the new year is special. For it is the chance for some energy into starting all over again. That is priceless. It fills us with hope and courses a new energy in our fraying minds.
An uncle of mine used to say that this energy would take him through “March – April”! “If you get a few solid wins in this time, who knows, the momentum can take you into June-July”. I find this enticing today.
It makes sense. Once it is July, you are already looking at beginning the countdown to end the year and make a new beginning. In early October, the uncle would say, ” we are going to end the year”. Looking forward to it like a kid walking with his dad to buy a promised lollipop. The ‘looking forward to next year’ saw him through the last three-four months.
In one way or the other, he had to wade through pestilence laden waters of ‘what is the meaning of my life’ and such other desultory questions for about five months. Right in the middle of the year. Those months could seem to have a slower pace to them. A few other ways to work those months would help. Perhaps breaking the year into smaller bits. Maybe having other special rituals for renewal.
But right now, the Sun is just about downing its shutters for 2017. The mid-year ‘sulk months’ seem a good distance away. Those months will happen when they happen. To make them ‘happening’ is after we take care of this evening and the next few weeks.
I have on my agenda a few must-dos.
Meet friends.
Plan well and yet create the space to plan as you go.
Spend time with the little miss. Grow up with her.
Walk. Run.
Take care of the body. And the mind. That’s the best way to take care of the bank account. (“Fixed deposits are best in the bank. Spare your hips”, said a wall scrawl in Madurai ).
Eat vegetables.
Write. Travel.
Dream.
Do meaningful work.
Shoot the breeze.
That’s the best part of beginning again. For some irrational reason, it fills the heart with hope. As this sunset sinks its teeth into the year’s neck, the fleeting gasps of the setting Sun remind me of the promises that I need to keep. No new promises. Just keeping the old ones is good enough.
That’s as good as it gets. The aim is to go through to the end of March with it. A running coach once sat me down as I shuddered thinking about how I would ever do a 42 KM run. The trick he said, “is not to think of the full 42 KM. But to have a target like “until the end of where the eye can see”. With the run soaking up most of the energy, my line of sight was often a just a hazy patch. It helped me finish!
So, here is what I am going to do. Soak up the Sun and look forward to the end of March. Maybe, April. Before the blink of the eye, it would be July. And then, it would be next year.
For now, go dance. Sing. Love.
That’s all there is to it. Besides saying “Happy New Year”!
There are two pigeons that dart on to my balcony. Tilting their necks and looking at me with an odious ‘oh not again’ look. I want to prove them wrong and start somewhere, even as the bright arc of the orange Sun is reduced to crimson splash on the horizon. I pull out my laptop and start typing. “It’s the same Sun that will pop out of the east tomorrow morning. Yet, today’s sunset helps us keep score that one more year has melted. It’s the 31st of December. And this is the ‘Annual Sunset’! Sunsets are amongst the most enticing of reminders that one more block of time is gone for good. The annual sunset on can be sentimental. Partly, because the world seems eager to be done with it…”
An open window behind, a simple bench beckoning you to sit, a loyal plant keeping you company, and soft grass beneath your feet. There’s even a shade nearby, waiting for you to decide if you need it. Above you, the open sky stretches endlessly—a perfect invitation to pause and just be.
Now, imagine tossing in a book, a bottle of water, and a steaming cup of hot coffee. Sounds idyllic, doesn’t it? There’s just one catch: throw away the watch. This is not a moment for time to meddle.
This little setup isn’t just about comfort; it’s a rebellion. A rebellion against hurried calendars, buzzing phones, and endless to-do lists. It’s a reminder that life isn’t a race; it’s more like an unscripted performance under a limitless sky.
What happens when you sink into that bench? You’ll notice things—the subtle rustle of leaves, the changing hues of the sky, or the way sunlight dances on your coffee cup. Perhaps the book you brought along finally gets the attention it deserves, its pages flipping lazily in the breeze.
And if you’re lucky, you’ll discover the joy of doing absolutely nothing. Yes, nothing! It’s underrated, often mistaken for laziness, but oh, the freedom it holds. No notifications, no deadlines—just you, your thoughts, and maybe that sneaky plant that’s somehow photobombing your serene moment.
The best part? This isn’t a luxury reserved for sprawling gardens or countryside retreats. It could be your balcony, your backyard, or even a park bench nearby. What matters isn’t the setting but the mindset.
So, take the plunge. Open that window, grab your coffee, and let the sky remind you how vast your world really is—if only you’d stop to notice.
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?