Logical lekhika

  We hear this, we repeat this. But when life actually unfolds differently from what we hoped, the mind goes blank, gets overwhelmed, confused, even restless. We compare, we blame ourselves or someone else, we feel sad. And each person expresses that pain differently. Let me share a personal experience. There was someone I thought could be suitable for marriage. There were some complications, and I remember praying to God — “Just let us meet once… just once. The rest will fall in place.” And strangely, we did meet. Not just once, but a couple of times. We felt we liked each other, and for a moment everything seemed perfect. There were a few things that felt like possible adjustments, but I brushed them aside. Then suddenly, in the middle of everything, he ghosted. I felt terrible. I called, texted, tried everything to reach him. My mind kept circling around what could have gone wrong. Days passed, then months, and I was still thinking about it. (If I’m honest, I ...

At times, we want things to be told to us clearly. We find ourselves thinking, “I wish he or she had expressed this,” or “I wish they had acted or not acted in that way.” The truth is, the importance of words vs. actions depends on many things — the type of relationship, the feelings involved, our mental state, the situation, and even personality. Sometimes, I want things to be expressed through small actions. Sometimes, I want certain things to be said out loud. Maybe both matter in different ways. In care, actions often speak more. In love, words and actions together make the difference. At work, clarity usually needs both. It sounds simple, but living it, interpreting it, and balancing it — is far more complex than it appears.

This thought struck me during my marathon today. At the start and finish line, there were RPF cadets and other volunteers — a mix of kids, teenagers, and adults. Along the route, a few sponsor teams stood in clusters as well. While I was jogging, something small yet powerful caught my attention. All of them had the same instruction: stand there and cheer the runners. But in every group of 10–15 people, only 2–3 were truly bringing the josh. They were shouting with full energy — “Vande Mataram!” “Fire in the mountain, run run run!” That tiny burst of enthusiasm from a few voices somehow cut through the fatigue. It lifted the mood. It genuinely brought back the josh. And that got me thinking… We all get moments in life when we can cheer someone — a friend, a colleague, a stranger, even a family member. But how many of us actually do it? How easy or difficult is it for someone to lift another person’s spirit? And do we even realise how much difference a small ge...

  Recently, I got the opportunity to visit the Govind Devji Mandir in Jaipur. My dad had told me many times, “If you ever get the chance, do visit this temple.” God was kind — the chance finally came. The temple premises were huge, and the crowd was overwhelming. Yet the loudspeaker playing Hare Krishna bhajans made the entire atmosphere feel surprisingly soothing. As we entered further, it got even more crowded. I couldn’t see anything except the darshan shown on the large screens. People ahead of me were tall and broad, blocking every possible view. I tried rising on my toes, looking through every tiny gap, but nothing worked. Finally, I closed my eyes and just chanted God’s name. I’ve never been great at meditation or concentration, but for a few seconds, my mind went completely still. Nothing else existed. And when I opened my eyes… it felt like something had shifted. The same crowd was there. The same tall people were still standing in front of me. But som...

  As a kid — and honestly, until a few years ago — one of the biggest things that mattered to me on my birthday was who all wished. More wishes meant more love. Or at least that’s what I believed. But with time, the meaning has shifted. Now it’s not the count, it’s the feeling. A simple message, a small gesture, a warm expression — that’s what stays with you. There are a few people I genuinely respect and feel connected to. Even if they don’t remember to call, I still feel like calling them — because the bond matters more than the ritual. Thoughts evolve as we do. And I guess mine have moved from the superficial to the genuine — from “how many wished” to “who truly matters.”

  On a recent flight, I came across an article in the airline magazine about “Gratitude.” We hear this word all the time — be grateful, appreciate the little things, count your blessings. But what do we actually end up doing? Most days, we look at others and convince ourselves they’re doing better, living better, or achieving more. In the daily hustle, we overlook things that many people can only dream of. Whatever we have gets filtered through a lens of “how this could’ve been better,” or it simply gets ignored. Is gratitude easy? For some people, yes — it comes instinctively. For most of us, it’s a bit of a struggle. Can it be adopted?  Definitely. And how does it help?  It shifts our mindset. We start noticing what’s present instead of obsessing over what’s missing. Small thought, big impact. Wanna try it? I  would. I guess what you appreciate , appreciates :)

I guess this is something most of us can relate to :) In fact, when I was chatting with a few fresh campus recruits in my team, this was the very thing they were most curious about. The moment I asked if they had any questions, office politics was one of the topics that popped up! Over time, I’ve realised that when it comes to office politics, people usually fall into three categories: 1. The Victims The ones who quietly do their job and somehow become characters in a drama they never auditioned for. 2. The Doers The ones who organise and execute the drama. And yes, let’s be honest — most people get involved in politics in some form or the other. Sometimes knowingly. Sometimes unknowingly. And sometimes because someone else dragged them into it! 3. The Loyal Gang Member The side actors who don’t initiate problems but definitely keep the story alive by supplying reactions, expressions, “masala,” and opinions. And who all participate? Just name it — boss, super boss, colleague, ...

  This was a concept I never really thought of, let alone acknowledged. Some time back, I tried it—and I can’t even recall when I started liking it. It’s been just a couple of months, mostly on Sunday mornings, when I’ve managed to practice this. Earlier, Saturday nights meant binge-watching and planning to sleep in late, lazy in my cozy bed. Now, I actually look forward to sleeping early, waking up fresh, and spending some quiet time with myself. Doing nothing, just sitting in silence. Maybe meditating a bit (well, trying to), stretching if I feel like it, sipping a warm cup of black coffee, or reading something peaceful. A slow morning bliss. Have you ever tried it? It may not sound exciting at first, but once you do, it feels quietly satisfying