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?
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.
All you need is a sense of play. A little ease. And suddenly, laughter and joy follow.
Play isn’t just for kids. It’s what makes things work—at work, at home, and everywhere in between. Experiment. Try. Run. Jump. Do something silly.
It works. Every single time.
If you need proof, look at kids. They don’t overthink. They don’t worry about failing. They just play. And in that play, they create, explore, and discover—things, and themselves.
What if we could bring just a little of that into our daily lives? A playful mindset might just be the secret to more joy, less stress, and surprising new ideas.
So today, try it. Play. Not for a result, but for the fun of it. Let the laughter find you.
Kids do it all the time. Why shouldn’t we?
(at Alibaug Beach)
Some buildings blend in. Lotte Tower is not one of them. It demands your attention—whether it’s the audacious leap into the sky, the curiously bulbous middle, or the way it lights up the night like a futuristic lighthouse.
Standing at 555 metres with 123 floors, it proudly claims its place among the world’s tallest buildings. But statistics aside, the real magic is underneath. Tilt your head back, take it all in, and for a fleeting moment, the sky doesn’t seem so far away.
Or maybe that’s just the vertigo talking.
#LotteTower #SeoulSkyline #TouchTheSky
Dance, music and colour. You are running between places and suddenly, at the end of the street, a street performance.
You just stop. And look. And then see more than what’s on. In flowing flawless white with a whip of a red and blue, the artists move with elan.
The drizzle threatens. But people are on a song and dance. The twirl of the ribbon and the music from the instrument colour the grey sky.
(at Seoul, South Korea)
To walk through a new country, pick up its words, and lose yourself in its culture is to realise that home is not just a place—it’s a feeling. The warmth of strangers, the kindness in shared smiles, and the quiet understanding that, beneath it all, we are more alike than we think.
Our differences? Striking. Our similarities? Unexpected. Both, worth celebrating.
And so, on this day, as Korea marks its Independence, a simple wish: May we all keep moving forward, embracing the unfamiliar, and finding pieces of home wherever we go.
Happy Independence Day, Korea! 
Chaos and order aren’t about what we see—they’re about how we see. A neatly stacked pile eventually topples. A tangled mess, given time, reveals its own quiet logic.
The most structured plan can unravel in seconds. The most chaotic moment can, strangely, feel just right. Maybe order is just a matter of patience, and chaos, a test of perspective.
Look closer. Beyond the clutter, beyond the randomness—there’s always a pattern waiting to be noticed.
Some build monuments to power. Others, to love. Premchand Roychand, a wealthy businessman, built the Rajabai Tower for something both grand and simple—to help his blind mother keep time.
Modelled after Big Ben, its chimes once echoed across Mumbai, guiding her through the day. A full-fledged clock tower just so a mother could tell time—now that’s devotion on another level.
He must have been some man. And she, some mother.
Centuries later, the tower still stands. A reminder that love, like time, leaves its mark.
That fleeting moment when the sun bows out and the streetlights blink awake—there’s something magical about it. A hush, a shift, a quiet handing over of time.
Day’s last breath, night’s first whisper. The night creatures stretch, the day ones retreat. And for a brief, golden moment, both share the stage.
Transitions are like that. They hold the past, hint at the future, and let us linger in the present just long enough to feel the change.
And isn’t that where the real magic happens?
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)