A bubble floats, catching the light, shimmering with impossible colours. A child watches, wide-eyed, as if witnessing pure magic. And maybe, just maybe, they are.
Because magic isn’t in the moment—it’s in how we see it. Every day hands us the same raw materials: time, people, possibilities. We can treat them as ordinary, or we can see the shimmer, the wonder, the fleeting brilliance.
The moment offers the opportunity. The magic is ours to make.
Here’s to a week filled with wonder!
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)
It’s early in the morning. The Sun is unleashing a fresh crimson on an early sky which still seems besotted with the night gone by.
The Sun is there. Persistent yet silent. The only loud statement coming from it action : a constant rising.
People warm up to the Sun. But before people do, the birds set off a note of welcome. Loud. Joyful. Synchronous in their randomness. And as they announce their presence the giant temple gopuram of several centuries seems to nod and smile.
A new day is here. The Sun is out. It’s time to flap your wings and fly.
Fly.
(at Meenakshi Amman Temple)
“This is the place where the legendary Bhim hit the mountain with his mace”, our guide tells us. We are at Harihareshwar. He is talking of Bhim, of the Pandava fame, as though he lives in the same building as him. And as he hurries us past what seems to be a perfect ‘V’ in the mountain, he adds, “this was the mountain’s weakest point”. It is picturesque, greeting me with a fresh gust from the Arabian Sea.
I conceal a half smile and nod in seriousness.
Coming to think of it, the weakest link breaking an otherwise strong chain is the stuff our cultures, our books on war, management and all else carry. It is almost a predictable curse that follows as through the ages.
As a new week arrives, do take a moment to pause and ponder. As you build the big mountain of dreams, what is your weak link?
I pondered for a bit and then went to my to do list! Tell me, what did you do? 
(at Harihareshwar)
