Mind

Some Quiet Between He & She

I found this gem on Fiona Tribe’s (@white_owly) twitter feed. So much so that I have been sitting with this for a bit now, seeking some quiet.

Our lives and our times are often bound by what goes in our head and what we think goes in another’s head! Its a deadly combination.

As I type this, I wonder what you think!?! 😉

I tell myself, ‘Perhaps it is necessary to quieten down a bit. In the mind. Especially, of what other people think.’ I reason, I will have reduced the chatter by 50%. While that is impeccable logic, I am immediately present to what would happen to my chatter about me if it others werent involved in it.

You see, whats the point?

Amidst all the noise, I think the way to get to quiet is to not start with an ideal picture of what quiet is and go after it. Perhaps let quiet evolve.

After a while that begins to make sense. I invite quite by being present to noise.

It makes sense to me.

Drum Beats

If there’s one thing that refuses to sit still, it’s the drum. It calls, it commands, it moves. And when it does, so do you.

At the Chithirai Festival, the best drums don’t just set the rhythm—they set the spirit free. Feet tap, bodies sway, the energy sweeps through the crowd like a fever. You dance. You pause. You catch your breath. And then, you look around.

They’re still moving. The colours, the finery, the rhythm—it’s all alive, pulling you back in. You realise you’ve been out of action too long.

So, you move again.

Because that’s what the festival, and the drum, are here for.

That is the Chithirai Festival for you.

Mumbai’s Rain: A City of Anticipation and MagicFocus

There’s something about Mumbai when it rains. The city slows, just a little. The streets glisten. The sea looks alive. But there’s also something about Mumbai when it waits for rain. The air is thick with hope. The sky teases with grey clouds. People glance up, waiting.

Anticipation fills the city.

And when the first drop falls, it feels like Mumbai breathes again.

The wait makes the rain sweeter.

That’s Mumbai—a city of moments.There is something to Mumbai when it rains. There is something to Mumbai when it expects the rain!

Stories a Brass Kettle

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?

The Weight We Carry: Mind Over Matter

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.

The Potter’s Quiet Emotion

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.

The Ocean’s Eternal Charm

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)

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?

“Now if you are going to win any battle you have to do one thing. You have to make the mind run the body. Never let the body tell the mind what to do. The body will always give up. It is always tired morning, noon, and night. But the body is never tired if the mind is not tired. When you were younger the mind could make you dance all night, and the body was never tired…You’ve always got to make the mind take over and keep going.”

– George S. Patton, U.S. Army General and 1912 Olympian

Its in the eye !

Three quarters of the legendary ‘big fat tyre’ just beneath the chest is not only because of a sedentary life style or whatever else that the world will have us believe often. A good vision with a pinch of a vivid imagination can be as potent as well !

Now, you are either taking umbrage or laughing away at the nadirs of emptiness in the mind that i have reached. hmm Well, seriously… Take a look at this.


Here are whats called ‘murukku‘ in Tamil territory.

Not much technology here. Infact, age old recipe. Plain old flour coming from grain, going through different moulds to create basic designs. Of course, deep fried in oil or sometimes in mouth watering ghee !

There you go. Petals. Whorls. Plain surfaces. Labyrinthine mazes. A sight to the eye. All hoarding calories like a glutton engulfed with additional greed !

Invariably its the eye that spots these. The whorls and patterns draw the eye like parched land to rain !

The mind and imagination then kick in their work. The imagined taste of each of these awaken the slumber of hidden taste buds resting in the tongue.

The ears hear the crackle of the ‘murukku’ against the teeth, the melting of the ghee and the after taste after the murukku is long gone into the deepest recesses of the tyre !

( Yes, the mind allows thinking of the tyre to seep in only after the snack sinks into the alimentary canal ) !

And even as the mind is thinking of all of this, the eyes induce the hands to declare independence. The wallet comes out and in a while the rest of the world hears the crackle : the crackle of the murukku as the teeth work on them !

The rest is history !

Ah ! The eyes !