USA

Clouded Views

Drives across the vast freeways of the USA can get you present to ‘size’ in a special way. The cars are large. The roads are wide. The billboards are wider. And if you stop for a bite, the portions can serve you for a lifetime. Or two.

But there is another reason that I like them for: the view of the sky. The Sun stays up and shiny till 8.30 PM. The blue shades of dusk that stretches beyond, like a reluctant goodbye of a loved one at an airport. When you drive into the setting Sun, you get an inviting view of the clouds. It is magical.

On one such trip, the little miss shouted out, “Snow White” pointing to an array of clouds. I looked in her array of clouds and found no “snow white’. At best, it looked like some full grown cauliflower.  I said, “I don’t see any Snow White“.

At first, she withdrew in silence and then, said, “Don’t be silly Appa”. Can you see the head there? And the body and the legs. She is bending over searching for something. I can also see her scarf. Can you not see?”

I looked harder and deeper. A head emerged and I could imagine that it belonged to Snow White. I could not see her bending or the legs or the body. Or the scarf for that matter. “I can see the head”, I said. In all honesty.

“If you can see the head, you can see more Appa. Try”. She said.

The wind was playing a cruel trick and before I could see any further the clouds were rearranging themselves. Snow White was gone even before I could place her fully.

In a bit, there was a new cloud array. A quick dash question came my way. “What do YOU see now, Appa?” It became a super game and kept chipping away from the familiarity induced boredom that the vast roads bring along.

Intermittent to her questions and my answers, I kept thinking of how sure she was about what she saw. And how I just couldn’t see what she saw without some prodding and help from her.

It reminded me of what I needed to do more of.  Perhaps what the world needs to do more of as well.  To try and see what others see even if at first, we cannot do so. To help others see what we see, even when they refuse to do so. That is building perspective! And to understand the clouds will move with the winds and the wind will keep a relentless pace.

Long after it was all over and as I was tucking her in at night, she asked what the clouds were doing just then. “They must be playing their games”.

“Will they be good Appa?”

“I don’t know. But we soon will know”

“Why Appa?”, she asked. With an inquisitive arch of the brow.

“Because”, I said, “it soon will be dawn”.

 

 

Picking on memory

Books have a way of growing on you. Sometimes when you read an old book again, you see new things. It is but obvious that the book is the same but you are new. Some books evoke memories like most others don’t far they embed themselves deep into the mind. Here is one: The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain.

Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. I remember them from school. My school life resurfaces every time I chance upon someone with a name Tom or with a chance reference to anything remotely connected to the fascinating novel. A white fence is one of them.

The incident about the white fence goes something like this. Tom skips school and is meted out a punishment: paint a fence white. He goes about enlisting a bunch of friends to partake some of their prized possessions to be allowed the privilege of the fence. It is a fascinating read and over the years ‘Paint Fence White’ has stood in for several things as I moved roles, managers and teams:).

What is exciting to one is a chore to another. With skill and some luck, you can make what is exciting look like a chore. And with some imagination and a sense of play, it can indeed be so!

We went Strawberry picking in somewhere close to the Bay Area. The little miss had a giant whale of a time. Yes.
Giant. Whale. Of. A. Time.

The set up is simple.
You drive to the farm.
You pick boxes.
You pick the produce.
You put the produce in the box.
You bring it back. ( You eat a few as well)
You weigh the produce.
You do the math of how much you need to pay.
You swipe your card.
You pack your stuff.
You leave in joy.
And then, when you come home, you ask for more.

I mean, isn’t this awesome.

Sure, strawberry picking is not something that you do daily and it is one of those things that you do once in a while. To seek different experiences and tell stories to ourselves ( and to the world) about those experiences make our lives. Or so I think.

And as the Pacific Ocean’s blustery moods rearranged the clouds above us in a hurry, kids punctuated the moves with shrieks of joy. Strawberries were the bright red trophies to take home along with a fresh coat of pride on tired parents.

Speaking of parents, I remember running about amongst paddy and sugarcane fields with my dad just letting me and my brother be. We didn’t have anything to pick those days except a fight or two between us. I recall the sweltering heat and the odd steady rain. We were free to do as we liked. Even as I wonder why we did precious little, I realise, we grew up.

Or so I think.

Domes of Light and Glory

The domes let in light, soft and diffused, transforming the space below. Then, as your eyes follow the curve upwards, the sky reveals its splendour. It’s more than just architecture—it’s poetry in design.

In that moment, the blend of light and space feels timeless. A silent reminder to look up, to find beauty where it meets function.

The glory of the sky framed by a dome isn’t just a view; it’s an experience, one that lingers long after you’ve stepped away.

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.

The Awesome Takes Time: What the Golden Gate Bridge Teaches Us

It’s practically illegal to visit San Francisco and not post a picture of the Golden Gate Bridge. Or so it seems, judging by the questions when you don’t! 😄

But beyond its stunning presence, this bridge is a lesson in persistence. Built in 1937, it didn’t just appear overnight. It took over a decade of battling opposition—financial worries, engineering doubts, even fears that it would ruin the bay’s beauty.

Today, those objections feel almost absurd, drowned out by its practical and symbolic value.

Because here’s the thing—the awesome doesn’t get built overnight. And most importantly, it doesn’t look awesome when it’s still in the mind.

So, what are you building? Keep going. The world may not see it yet, but one day, they’ll wonder how it ever wasn’t there.

The Lincoln Memorial Steps and a Speech That Changed the World

On August 28, 1963, standing on these very steps of the Lincoln Memorial, Martin Luther King Jr. delivered his “I Have a Dream” speech. A speech that didn’t just move America—it shook the world.

These steps have heard many voices, but this one stands out. King spoke not just to commemorate Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation of 1863, which freed millions of slaves, but to remind the world that freedom and justice are always unfinished work.

Some steps are just steps. Others lift humanity higher.

This is one such place.

The Sather Tower: Time, Legacy, and a Secret Inside

Every great campus has an icon, and at the University of California, Berkeley, the Sather Tower is impossible to miss. It dominates the sky, commands attention, and quietly watches over generations of bright minds passing through.

At 307 feet, it’s the third tallest clock tower in the world, but its real significance isn’t just its height—it’s the aspiration it represents. For decades, students have walked beneath it, dreamed beyond it, and carried its legacy forward.

And here’s a twist—it’s not just a timekeeper, it’s a time capsule. Hidden inside? A fossil collection from Berkeley’s Department of Biology, preserving life from long before 1914, when the tower was built.

It tells time. It stores time. And for many, it shapes lifetimes.

Harvard’s Most Famous Statue—That Isn’t John Harvard!

John Harvard sits pretty in Harvard Yard, watching over students and tourists alike. His left shoe gleams, polished by thousands of hopeful hands rubbing it for luck.

But behind the statue lies a story of mistaken identity—actually, two.

First, John Harvard wasn’t the founder of Harvard University, just its most generous early benefactor. And second, when the time came to build the statue, no one knew what he looked like. So, they used the face of another man!

Despite this, the statue is said to be the third most photographed in the US, after the Lincoln Memorial and the Statue of Liberty.

Now that’s an impressive legacy—to become iconic, even when history got the details wrong!

#JohnHarvard #HarvardLegends #StatueWithAStory

Skyline Illusions: San Francisco’s Double Act

A city’s skyline can feel like a carbon copy of ambition—jagged concrete dreams reaching upward, standing in silent competition. From afar, they all seem the same.

But look closer. No two skylines are alike. The details whisper—the polished glass facades, the murmurs in the air, the street music shaping the mood. These are the signatures of a city, the pulse beneath the architecture.

San Francisco’s skyline plays a game. Business-like. No-nonsense. A stiff upper lip. But let the Pacific breeze brush past you, step beyond the steel towers, and descend into the valleys of the city—that’s when the façade fades. The real San Francisco isn’t just in its skyline. It’s in the hills, the streets, the unexpected turns.

Some cities invite you in. San Francisco? It teases, then surprises.

Love on the Move: A Man, A Woman, and a San Francisco Morning

They appeared suddenly—a burst of laughter, love, and lightness on a crisp San Francisco morning. Heading toward the Ferry Building, but in no ordinary way.

He walked. She didn’t.

She floated through the streets in his arms, carried effortlessly, their joy filling the road as if love alone could lift them.

After a while, she slipped down, feet finally touching the pavement. Hand in hand, they ambled along, unhurried, unbothered.

People nodded, smiled, shook their heads. Some in disbelief, others with a smirk, and a few with quiet delight.

The moment—the act and its reactions—felt uniquely San Francisco. A city where the unexpected isn’t odd, just part of the scenery.

What do you think? Would you smile, stare, or simply walk on?