R@J aur Sweety ka Scribble Pad

This morning, in yet another never-ending deep life talk, Sweety was trying to recruit me as her personal life coach. Spoiler alert: I wasn’t applying. We meandered through the usual playlist — dreams, goals, confusion, career, soul-searching — you know, the kind of existential crisis playlist that hits you twice daily:  One at 9 AM thinking about what work to do and One at 10:30 PM when Wi-Fi is strong and self-doubt is stronger. Somewhere in that intellectual dhobi ghat of thoughts, I had a brain ka bulb-on moment : "Understanding the difference between what you want to do, what you can do, and what you actually do… is the secret to shanti (inner peace)." Naturally, Sweety didn’t react. Lost in her world of ChatGPT searches like: “What should i write in my team members appraisals?” So I repeated it — in my best coach voice. This time, she paused. The gears started turning (finally). After a rare moment of stunned silence, she got it. I told her to write it down. She said, “...

 This morning, while chatting with Sweety about our usual serving of casual existential dread, I blurted out something that made both of us laugh and pause" “ The difference between what we could have done in the past and what we can do now — is our life. ” Sweety said "It sounds oddly deep for a weekday morning". I too thought so especially around breakfast time. But the more I think about it, the more it feels true. It’s not just a poetic punchline; it’s a gentle (and slightly dramatic) reminder that the past is a museum — a nice place to visit, but not where you want to set up your sofa. We all carry around our "Greatest Hits of Regret", be it the job we didn’t take, the message we drafted and never sent, the gym membership we paid for and never used. These “could-have” moments come back to haunt us like old WhatsApp forwards — usually around midnight, just when we’re trying to sleep. But here’s the twist: while we can’t time-travel and fix those moments, we...

In the quiet moments of life, when we pause and look beyond the noise, we often find ourselves observing a delicate tension — the tension between our search for Shanti and our entanglement in Maya. This tension isn't a flaw. It is not something to be fixed or escaped. It is being human itself. Shanti is the stillness we intuitively long for — a peace that isn't tied to achievements, applause, or acquisition. It shows up in fleeting moments. Shanti is the space within where nothing is missing. But it can’t be forced. It reveals itself when we stop trying so hard to grasp everything else. Maya — illusion, distraction, the spinning web of form and desire — is equally a part of us. We live inside stories: of success and failure, identity and ambition, gain and loss. We chase meaning in external markers. Maya is not evil. It's enchanting. It's the play of life, it brings the texture, the drama, the form to living. The problem arises only when we forget it's a play and ...

Walking the dogs this week, I was listening to a discourse by Swami Sarvapriyananda. He was explaining a profound line from Adi Shankaracharya: “ In wakening, dreaming, and deep sleep — there is one consciousness. ” At first, it sounds simple. But as he unpacked it, something stirred within me. We live through different states each day — wakening, dreaming, and deep sleep — each so distinct in experience. - In wakening, we navigate the outer world: people, work, emotions, conversations. - In dreaming, our mind becomes the creator — spinning stories, fantasies, fears — often vivid, strange, and deeply personal. - In deep sleep, there are no thoughts, no dreams, not even the awareness of “I am sleeping.” It's a void of experience — and yet somehow, we know it happened. And yet, through all of this, one thing remains constant: the witnessing consciousness. It is not bound by sleep or activity. It doesn’t disappear when the mind goes quiet. It is always there — not doing, just being. A...

Read a post about making choices and it stayed with me — it made me ponder: what actually makes people happy? Or more importantly, how can we stay happy, especially when life is unpredictable? Some thoughts came to mind… -  Happiness isn’t a constant high —it’s more often a quiet contentment, a sense of alignment with one’s values, and the ability to navigate life with acceptance - Own choices without regret - Some work out and some dont, but they were made with the best set of information that we had at that point in time. Regret only stings when we believe we should have known better. But no one ever makes a bad decision on purpose—they simply made the best call they could with what they had. - Don’t Replace, Just Release - Never think about replacing everyone. Just move forward by leaving that space. Humans will never be a like for like replacement. People are not interchangeable. Relationships, memories, and impacts are unique. Trying to “fill a gap” often leads to compa...

  Over the weekend, I heard a coach say this to a bunch of graduating high school seniors “ Remember, We are a C between B and D ". I found this very interesting and when I looked up online I found that this is a quote by French philosopher   Jean-Paul Sartre , where "B" represents birth, "C" represents the choices we make, and "D" represents death. Ironically thereafter, I even watched a movie called “The    Choice” where two individuals that are poles apart are attracted to each other and end up making choices to live and love each other hoping against hope and overcoming many challenges. And today I came across this thought provoking article in social media that talks about thinking through some of the choices carefully before we make them especially the choices that impact our life and the people we hold dear… “One day, you’ll realize that the same person cannot be found twice in life. Not everyone is replaceable. Be careful with the hearts you to...

Parkinson’s Law — originally coined to describe bureaucracies — states: “Work expands to fill the time available for its completion.”  Over the years, I’ve realized this doesn’t just apply to office work. It applies to life itself. Give yourself a free evening, and you’ll likely find a way to fill it — sometimes with intention, often out of habit. A weekend with no plans? Suddenly, errands appear. Obligations multiply. Emotional loops replay. It’s as if stillness is too unfamiliar, even threatening. So we stay in motion — not because we must, but because we’re used to it. And it makes me wonder: Are we managing time, or is time managing us? We often chase productivity, but rarely ask: Productive toward what end? Sometimes, the most radical thing we can do isn’t to squeeze more into our day — but to protect some space within it. Space for rest. Reflection. Or simply, to be. When the mind is blank, we often let the motions take over. Stillness can feel like a void. Silence, unsettlin...

We were recently listening to Hotel California again, and one line stayed with us long after the music faded: "We are all just prisoners here, of our own device... You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave." It’s haunting — not just because of the melody, but because of the unsettling truth it hints at. Sometimes, life feels exactly like that — a grand, beautiful illusion. Full of movement, choices, and color on the surface, yet beneath it all, a quiet sense of being trapped. Not by walls or systems alone, but by our own thoughts, fears, expectations, and the identities we've carefully constructed over time. At other times, it feels like a well-decorated maze. We move through routines, ambitions, desires — always seeking the next thing that promises escape, relief, or meaning. Yet slowly, a realization sets in: what holds us captive isn’t out there. It’s in here. - We carry invisible prisons — comparison, old wounds, societal scripts, internal pressures...

 The first time I came across the term Atmanirbhar was when Prime Minister Modi launched the Atmanirbhar Bharat mission. Over the past decade, I’ve come to understand that self-reliance isn’t just a national aspiration — it’s deeply personal as well. At the national level, Atmanirbhar signifies more efficient, competitive, resilient, independent in areas like energy, raw materials, defense manufacturing, capital, and even markets. But for an individual, self-reliance is more nuanced. It means being physically, mentally, and emotionally self-sufficient — reaching a state of contentment that doesn’t depend on external validation or stimuli. It’s about finding inner stability and peace, regardless of what’s happening outside. Recently, I mentioned to Sweety that she seems to be constantly seeking distractions. I don’t think it landed well with her — and understandably so. It's not easy to hear, and perhaps not easy to say either. But that moment made me reflect deeper on what individu...