R@J aur Sweety ka Scribble Pad

 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 ...