Metaphor

Michael Jordan’s Lesson: The Real Test of Success Starts After You Win

Michael Jordan once said, “Success doesn’t stop when you get there.” And he would know. Winning wasn’t his final goal—it was just a checkpoint before the next challenge.

Reaching the top is one thing. Staying there? That’s the real test. What changes when you get there? Do your values shift? Do your old associations still fit? Does your outlook evolve, or do you stay the same?

And then comes the biggest question—What next?

A true winner doesn’t just celebrate the shot. They look up at the hoop again, ready for the next play.

Are you?

Blades of Grass, A Rising Sun, and a Gentle Morning Question

As the crimson sun kisses the fading night, every blade of grass leans in, stretching, reaching—almost as if trying to get a better view.

The breeze hums, the birds call, and together, they pose a gentle question: “So, how are you today?” Not demanding, not intrusive—just a playful nudge to start fresh.

And maybe that’s the best way to begin the day. Not with alarms and to-do lists, but with nature’s quiet company, a deep breath, and the simple joy of being asked.

How are you today?

Big Planes, Small Planes—The Sky Sees No Difference

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.

Where We Stand Depends on Where We Sit

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.

History, Identity, and the Borders We Don’t See

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)

Good Work Solves Today. Great Work Lasts for Generations.

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)

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.

The Roads That Were Never Roads: Lessons from Madurai’s Village Temple

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.

Life Throws the Ball—Are You Ready to Catch It?

Life keeps throwing balls our way. Some fast, some slow. Some expected, others completely out of nowhere.

The real question isn’t what comes our way—but how ready we are to catch it.

We don’t get to choose the speed, angle, or height of life’s throws. But we do get to choose our readiness—to react, adapt, and take every catch that matters.

Because in the end, catches win matches. And in life, being ready makes all the difference.

Are you ready?

Bikers in Formation: The Sound, The Sight, The Spirit

There’s something special about a community in motion. And when that motion is on bikes, it’s something else altogether.

Driving across the US, I saw them often—groups of bikers, engines roaring long before they came into view. Then, for a few fleeting seconds, they would appear—gliding, leaning, perfectly in sync with the road. And just like that, they’d be gone.

Maybe it’s the way they hug the road, the way the sound fills the air, or the way their presence lingers long after they’ve disappeared. They don’t just ride, they command attention—in sound, sight, and spirit.

What must it be like, to ride with the wind, to feel the world rush past, to have nothing but open road and a revved-up heartbeat?

Freedom. Movement. Brotherhood.

Somewhere in that formation, there’s a kind of unspoken poetry—one that only the road can write.