DreamingAway

Hansie is my dog. On a sports field, a substitute steps in out of necessity. No matter their potential, on that given day, they remain a step behind the original choice. We live with substitutes every day. When the film we wanted is sold out, we choose another. When an evening by the sea is no longer possible, we find another way to spend it. Real plants become bonsai; bonsai become plastic leaves. We make these trades so often that we hardly notice them any more. Sometimes, we make them with emotions too. A quiet house can feel different when children are grown and gone, or when they were never there to begin with. Many bring home a dog — a gentle response to an ache, an unspoken need for connection, a little companionship. The same thing can be an original for one person and a substitute for another. One person swims because the water calls to them. Another swims because there is nothing else to do. The act is the same; the meaning is not. Perhaps that is the clarity we owe ourselves...

 Recently, while watching Gurthukosthunnayi , I came across a dialogue that stayed with me. It meant something like this: “When you have nice people in a group, you make good friends. When you have crazy people in the group, you make great friends.” It made me smile because there is some truth in it. The best friendships are often built around shared laughter, strange adventures, endless conversations and memories that make little sense to anyone outside the group. But it also made me wonder: beyond all these things that bring people together, what is it that makes a bond truly endure? The more I thought about it, the more I felt that the answer might be something much quieter: respect. We often think of relationships in terms of affection, shared interests, attraction, compatibility or the memories we create together. But beneath all of these, there is another quality that gives a relationship depth and resilience — the ability to value another person for who they are, even when t...

I visited my uncle’s house early last month. It had been more than two decades since I had last been there. Back then, it was nearly a kilometre’s walk from the main road. I wanted to retrace the steps of my boyhood, but the area had changed beyond recognition. I found myself mentally comparing the old map I carried in my memory with the reality before me. Even so, I pressed on, trusting my instincts to guide me. I managed to get close by asking for directions to the local temple and the lake, but eventually I got lost. In the end, I needed my cousin’s help. I was only two short streets away from his house. Whether I visited my cousin’s house or he came to mine, we would spend almost every weekend together. His village was beautiful, with lush paddy fields stretching along the lakeside. It was the first place I had ever seen handloom weaving up close. In fact, on almost every street one could see the traditional practice of street sizing . During those visits, we would play cricket, ca...

Most tasks are judged not by the effort invested, but by the outcome they produce. Yet, when we perform a task ourselves, our own effort is highly visible. We remember the time spent, the decisions made, and the obstacles overcome. Because we experience this effort directly, it is easy to mistake effort for completion. This tendency to evaluate our work by how much we did, rather than whether the intended outcome was achieved, is a common trap.   There are trees near my house, and their leaves constantly fall onto the terrace. My daily task is to sweep the terrace and place the leaves in a bin to keep the area clean. There are many ways to approach this, but consider two scenarios where this simple task can go wrong.   The Leaf Pile (Under-Delivery) My action: I sweep the terrace cleanly but leave the leaves in a neat pile in the corner, intending to bin them later.
My perspective: I feel as though I have done a great job; after all, sweeping is 99% of the heavy lifting, and b...

I recently watched the Telugu film Patang . It tells the story of two friends who form rival teams to settle a score through a kite duel. One team knows nothing about kite flying, which leads to several humorous scenes as they struggle to learn the craft. Those scenes felt deeply relatable. I flew kites during my school days and, like most of my “firsts”, the learning process was a comedy of errors. I remember trying to jam a chess pawn into the base of a piece because my cousin told me the newly bought set was “too small”. My first attempts at kite flying were much the same: I would simply grab the thread and run, hoping the kite would follow. Like a playful puppy, the kite had a mind of its own — nosediving, veering off course, or simply snapping the thread and escaping. My neighbours, who were quite skilled, eventually taught me the basics. Soon, I could fly a kite with ease. I even learned to make simple ones using nothing but old newspapers and broomsticks. Since our gate opened d...

Nails Everywhere: Whenever I walk around campus with my colleagues, I sometimes pick a colour and say, “That colour is everywhere today.” It usually annoys them. They start pointing out all the other shades I am ignoring — and they are mostly right. But that is exactly the point. Your focus shapes your reality. Give your mind a frame, and it will fill the world to match it. When you hold a hammer, suddenly you see nails everywhere. You start living in a world made almost entirely of them. Slow Recovery: In sports, ligament and tendon injuries are notoriously slow to heal. They do not receive a constant flood of repair materials through the bloodstream. There is no quick fix, no overnight turnaround. Healing is not just about closing damage — it is about careful, internal realignment. You cannot yell at a ligament to knit itself back together faster. It happens on its own timeline.  — — — Life has a way of testing every part of you at once — your family, your work, your sense of sel...

We stopped for tea a couple of hours into the drive. Before I could ask, my teammate ordered for his father — less sugar, extra strong, just the way he likes it. He didn’t ask; he just knew. Last week, I travelled about 500 kilometres to attend a colleague’s wedding. I was in the car with my teammate and his 75-year-old father, on a familiar kind of trip. We left in the morning, took a couple of breaks along the way, reached by evening, attended the reception, and returned the next day after the early morning wedding. It was routine and comfortable. But somewhere along the drive, I found myself noticing something I hadn’t expected — the nature of their relationship. During our conversations, his father joined in with ease on topics ranging from cinema to politics to technology. His father wasn’t just listening; he was fully part of it. It was a clear indication that they had these discussions at home regularly and in depth. The same ease showed up in smaller moments too — adjusting the...

 From divine tales to epic sagas to the timeless pages of literature, they are all paved with love stories that anchor themselves in your memory. They happen even now, quietly, somewhere around you. Are they rare? Of course. Are they ordinary? Certainly not. Now, take away the villains, the tragedies, the grand betrayals — the list shrinks. The truth is that love without a villain rarely makes headlines, yet its quiet power is no less profound. And it remains just as rare. Do you need love like that? Or is it merely a superficial pursuit? After all, not everyone sets out to become a billionaire; perhaps you don’t seek the “epic” either. There is no denying that love is God’s magic, and making your love divine is your magic. I am somehow hooked on the concept that God does everything, and yet, somewhere, somehow, I must play my part on His behalf. So how do you make your love divine — or at least a worthy anchor in your life? It isn’t impossible. But if you are searching for “Step 1...

I’m reflecting on a year that felt like my own personal pendulum — swinging between quiet frustrations and small triumphs. No dramatic reinvention here; just a steady pull toward better health, sharper focus, and stories that stuck with me. Let’s break it down.   Health: For three years now, my weight has been a source of quiet frustration. It is dipping a few kilos in hopeful bursts before creeping back up, eventually settling into a gain. My target? A modest “sweet spot”: 5kg lighter than today. I promise, my goal isn’t fueled by a mid-30s crisis, but by a genuine desire to prioritize my health. On the bright side, my strength training is evolving. After the (10+10)kg chest press and (10+10)kg squat last year, I’m setting my sights on the deadlift again, targeting a 20kg milestone. And sleep? sleep cannot be managed by an alarm clock alone. My new philosophy? I’ll sleep less if I must, but never more than 450 minutes.   Media:(Maybe Too Much? but not unusual) From the emotio...

 Is there anyone who doesn’t love the sunrise?  Between the night and the day, there is this transformational moment. The whole sky transforms. A quiet shift. Colours spread slowly, light pours in. If you are there—truly there—not with your mind chattering, but simply witnessing, you will be pulled into it. This divine dance is one of the beautiful transformational moments in the sky. You know this if you have ever been swimming. You cannot just jump into the water and become a swimmer. You flounder at first, use floats, coaches, techniques—all crutches. And then, suddenly, one moment arrives. There is that transformation. Your first real swim. The body defies gravity; the mind forgets fear. You are in a dance with the water—an overcoming of something unknown. A tremendous ease arises. Between night and day. Between learner and swimmer. Between chrysalis and butterfly. There exists a short moment—the in-between. The transformational moment, that is the elixir of this life, you...

 Is killing part of my nature? All humans inherit biological tendencies towards aggression. Perhaps that’s why, under the right circumstances, I too could attempt to kill someone. But thankfully, we live in an era where our aggression has, to a great extent, been restrained. So, I don’t just go out and kill; I might never even get the chance to kill someone in my lifetime. Does this “restraint” make me a moral person, someone who opposes killing? I want to say no. It feels like a mere facade. How else do I explain myself protesting for trees and animals while silently ignoring the hundreds of thousands killed in wars or everyday killings for “traditional” causes like power, lust, and greed? I am, of course, one among billions who stay silent where our voices can make a difference. It seems to me that as a crowd—this collective of individuals, we are good at killing. And we can do it willingly, even happily, as long as there is a cause to hide behind. Lately, I have been reading new...

Though my understanding of God doesn’t allow me to say that He can make mistakes, I still catch myself wondering, more often than I’d admit, whether certain things look suspiciously like divine oversights. One of these is this deep, stubborn human need for intimate relationships, especially with the other gender (yes, Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus still feels painfully accurate). And then we extend this need even further and call it marriage. Of course, there are exceptions. Let’s not go into those here. People keep asking: “What are the fundamental requirements for a long-term relationship?” The truth is very clear: you can’t plan and use some magic formula. Nobody has ever found one that actually works. Life refuses to be controlled. A pet, a new neighbour, a surprise visit from a relative—just one single thing from the infinite supply of trivial things can turn everything upside down in a moment. Even if you write the perfect checklist—love, respect, compatibility, kids, f...

Are you one of those people who gets a little spooked by the sudden surge of swiftly moving, dark clouds? You know, the kind that turn the sky a menacing, gloomy grey? I've got friends who genuinely fear that scene. Dark skies can certainly foster feelings of melancholy and sadness, dragging your mood down into the pits of gloom. Ayam Cemani chickens - the Indonesian black chickens — are very rare. Yet they are still forced to sacrifice their lives because they are believed to hold mysterious powers to satisfy evil gods. My dad used to say that whenever a black goat, cat, dog, or hen disappeared, it was often taken for sacrifice. These rituals were thought to have the power to ward off demons. I hate that. How many more centuries will it take for us to stop such practices? From Asian and Greek mythology to African folklore, black has long been a symbol of mystery, danger, and the underworld. We often associate black with, well, a whole lot of dramatic stuff. Despite black's ele...

Love and affection are all open-air prisons here (பாசம் எல்லாம் இங்கே வெட்டவெளி சிறைகள்). How true are Palani Bharathi’s lyrics ! There is a kind of quiet captivity in caring, not because we want to escape it, but because we are never really outside it. A week ago, I was away, and my mother was looking after my dog, Hansie. I gave her all the instructions about his treats. But when she told me he had not touched anything, not even his favourites, I felt heavy-hearted. You know that feeling, if you have ever been there. The more we see, the more we agree to things that once we believed to be meaningless. Vallalar ’s famous words, “Whenever I saw a withered crop, I withered,” speak to many - some connect at a surface level, while others journey deeper to experience their true meaning. I see them sometimes, on buses or in public places. One day, he screamed loudly, apparently for no reason. Another day, she screamed loudly for the same reason. His mother got used to it. Her mother got use...

கோர்வையற்ற வார்த்தைகளாகவே முடித்துவிடப் போகிறேனோ என்ற தோன்றலோடே இந்தப் பதிவைத் துவங்குகிறேன். முன்னெச்சரித்தும் கொள்கிறேன். பரண் ஏறி வெகுகாலமாகி, துருக்கள் துகள்களாகும் நிலையாகிவிட்ட நட்பெல்லாம் இன்னமும் தேவைதானா என்ற எண்ண ஓட்டம்தான் இது. பழையன கழிதலும் புதியன புகுதலும் கால ஓட்டத்தின் கட்டாயமும், மிக இயல்பாய் இந்த உலகமே பழகிக்கொண்டதுமான நியதிதான். மாற்றம் ஒன்றே மாறாதது என்றோ, மாற்றம் என்பதே வாழ்வின் அடையாளம் என்பதோ நாம் எப்போதும் சொல்வதுதான். நட்பின் நிலையும் இதற்கு அப்பாற்பட்டதல்ல என்றே என் மனம் சொல்கிறது. காலத்தின் மாற்றங்களுக்கேற்ப, புதிய நட்பைத் தேடிச் செல்வதும் ஏற்றதே அல்லவா? உண்மையில் பழையது/புதியது, தேவையானது/தேவையில்லாதது என நட்பில் பார்ப்பதற்கு முன், நட்பென்றால் என்னவென்ற ஆழ்ந்த புரிதல் இருந்தால் மட்டுமே இதற்கான ஒரு தெளிவான விவாதத்திற்குள் சென்று பயணிக்க முடியும். நிற்க! ஒரு முனையில் - காலங்காலமாய் ஒரே ஊர், ஒரே பள்ளி, கல்லூரி, ஒரே இடத்தில் பணியென எல்லா இடங்களிலும் தொடரும் ஒரே நட்பு. மறுமுனையில் - பள்ளி முடிப்பதிற்குள் நான்கைந்து இடம் மாறி, ஒன்றுக்கொன்றான தொடர்புகள் அறுபட்ட வாழ...

“ O Arjun, those who eat too much or too little, sleep too much or too little, cannot attain success in Yog ,” says Krishna . And from across the centuries, James Allen echoes : “ He wants to gratify his taste for rich and unnatural viands and have his health as well. Such a man is totally unfit to have health .” Gluttony, after all, is one of the seven deadly sins. (Thank you, Se7en !) But don’t worry, we are not going that deep into guilt and punishment today. When it comes to diet, I am always amazed by friends who can effortlessly resist delicious foods, saying a firm “no” to temptation. Is a little indulgence now and then such a crime? Why practice such rigid self-control all the time? And no, they are not immune to double-chocolate-chip brownies at 4 PM on a Friday. Why not yield to temptation, wisely? (Just for fun, of course, don’t try this at home… unless it’s a tiny bite!). Now consider shopping and discounts, temptation’s playground. Epictetus wisely suggests , “If...

 “Live longer” might be a false claim. Even just “living” may only work if it fits your definition of it. But what if the very clarity of our internal ‘images’ holds the key to both how we interact with others and how we navigate our own lives? Recently, I was in a discussion with a few teammates. I tried to explain a few things that, in my mind, needed fixing. I gave a quick glimpse of the issues, assuming they would catch the core idea. They did. Just not the one I intended. Soon, they were pointing out fixes and efforts for their interpretation, leaving me wondering, “How did we get here?” Well, it is all about assumptions and the mental images each of us sees. A fundamental requirement in communication is not just creating an image but also learning to transfer it to others as accurately as possible. The challenge, however, is that we rarely share the entire image. We assume the listener will fill in the blanks - which they do, but sometimes with the wrong pieces. The result? T...

  Sweepstakes: Well, I don’t know the name. A puzzle would be published in the newspaper, and you had to send the answer to a particular postal address to be part of a lucky draw. The winner would get a nice product at a big discount. The money was collected through the postal service. Extremes: We often use words like earthquake, tsunami, volcano, or nuclear bomb to describe the extremes of emotions or situations. We somehow know these are the big ones and they become our metaphors for things we can’t otherwise measure. Delhi/China Set: My dad used to refer to heavy parcels with fake products as “Delhi/China sets.” Scammers do this all the time. You would order a Mixi and end up receiving a nicely packed old brick. Back then, there was barely any way to complain or get your money back. Phone Scams: Phone scams are very common nowadays. And the elders are the easy targets. Nearly 20% of the adult population is affected by phone scams, with trillions of money looted by the scammers ...

One of the nice things about major bus stops is that both the people and buses keep moving, yet the place remains decently crowded, and always buzzing with life. It was 20:30 hrs when the bus I needed arrived. I was waiting closer to the bus so that I could take my turn after the rushing crowd boarded. An elderly lady approached me and asked whether the bus would go to her stop. It wouldn’t. I patiently explained to her the right bus numbers that would take her there and told her that her bus would come in 5-10 minutes. I suggested her to stand slightly away, where her bus usually stops. Then, I boarded my bus and left. You know, it is truly a blessing to be present in moments when elders feel the need for a helping hand. I have often seen college students carry bags for older people as they board buses. Even if the bag is almost weightless for the youngster, the gesture matters, and I am sure it helps the elder more than we imagine. It also leaves a warm feeling in the one who offers ...

  Life is a bit of a mess when a stepdad and his stepchild don’t get along. Ask David Copperfield. His stepdad, Mr. Murdstone, made his life miserable, or at least, that is how David saw it. I was skimming through David Copperfield, not really feeling any sentiment, and honestly, a bit bored (lie!). And then, there it was — this line: “He ordered me like a dog, and I obeyed like a dog.” Suddenly, I perked up. I could see it. A dog ordering? A dog obeying? I never expected a single line to spark such hilarious visuals. A “wow, interesting” moment, completely out of nowhere. Of course, the reason is that I could easily relate how the dog orders and how it obeys to what Mr. Murdstone and David do. I was sure that I was not an eligible audience for “The Greatest Show on Earth”. It wasn’t the greatest show for me. I dropped out at 10%. Not because it was bad, but just because I kept wondering, why am I even following this? Then, amidst my inner struggle, I hit this passage...