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An Ode to Vulnerability

Being Vulnerable. Many people who have grown accustomed to living a life defined by competition, are scared of being vulnerable. By being vulnerable, I mean anything that would expose their true self to others. This true self consists of things like love, fear, happiness, sadness, anger, frustration, hatred, jealousy, helplessness - everything that makes us human, fragile beings.

Competition as a marker of our civilisation has constructed being fragile humans as a sign of conquerable weakness. This, as I see it, reduces us to emotionless bags of chemicals that are always supposed to be hyper energetic to "get things done". That is, succumbing to the neoliberal propaganda of beating the competition and staying on top of the game always, I feel that we have lost touch with our humanity, we have forgotten how to connect with each other, and most importantly, how to connect with ourselves. We are scared to accept our difficult emotions, we are scared to accept the mess that we …
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People say daydreaming is a waste of precious energy that could have been put to better use in more "productive" work. People say daydreaming is nothing but a manifestation of laziness. But, daydreaming and I have been friends since more than two decades now, and I have experienced it as one of the few tasks that provide me with the opportunity to use my creativity and energy to the fullest. When I daydream, I am the ruler of the world I create. Boundaryless as it is, it is a world that can hardly exist in real life, which makes it fascinating. In that fictitious world of mine, I get to seek redemption - from pain and misery, from artifice and fakeness, from helplessness and frustration.

Daydreaming helps me set my priorities right - What is it that matters the most to me? What are my yearnings? What do I want from life? Questions like these, that hardly find answers in the mundane everyday, get answered in those vivid, colourful imaginings of my mind, where the winds of wi…

The Man from Earth: Who am I?

There was a game in the computer at my home during my childhood. It was titled "whoami" that I used to pronounce as "whooaamee" until my sister corrected it to "Who am I?" It had the players arrange elements of a scenery as they wish - a house, a tree, a lake, an animal, etc. And at the end of the game, it would show/tell the players who actually they were. I was fascinated by this game. I used to play it again, and again, and again, desperate to get different results each time. Somehow, I was never satisfied with sticking to one definition of myself.

Today, fast forward to more than a decade, I watched the movie The Man from Earth. I am stumped. All the questions I kept asking myself since childhood, they got answered. The answer is, there is no answer. Or maybe, the answer lies in each of us? Why is the water liquid? What are atoms/ tiniest particles of the world/us made of? Why are we born? Why do we die? What happens after we die? If we are born to d…

What is "home"? : Some unsaid thoughts

What is home? Can you smell it? Can it be felt? Can you live it? Can you experience it? According to me, home is a place where time stands still. Maybe it’s a place where time doesn’t exist. It is a place where all your memories, emotions, angst, smiles, tears – all those intense ups and downs that you have gone through all your life, lay bare, as if they had happened just moments ago. Home is a time machine whose walls have captured every emotion you have felt as a child, at which you can smile when you revisit them in your adulthood. Home is a place whose roads stand testimony to those heady days when you roamed them carefree with your friends, without an ounce of care to pay bills, rents, or to earn money to feed yourself. Home is a place which reminds you how privileged you have always been, and how grateful you need to be for this privilege. Home is a place whose winds soothe your inner soul, and calm down your anxieties. Home is a place whose air has the freshness and purity of a…

Dare to think the unthought known

Note: The title of this poem is inspired by the wonderful festschrift bearing the same title, edited by Prof. Ajeet Mathur of IIMA. The book has opened new vistas in my mind, it has inspired me to always live on the edge, no matter how difficult it is and will be. The book, according to me, is a perfect example of what being "boundaryless" truly means. 
Dare to think the unthought known
Dare to feel the unacceptable acceptance
Dare to accept the difficult feelings
Dare to break the unbroken shackles.

Dare to think the unknown thought
Dare to touch the untouched part of your heart
Dare to love the unloving them
Dare to be the unstoppable you.

Dare to fall and get up in no time
Dare to face rejection everytime
Dare to be there for yourself all the time
Dare to create new reality sometimes.

Dare to let go
Dare to let be
Dare to welcome surprises
Dare to let go
Dare to let be
Dare to live life as it comes!

Tryst with IIMA - Critical reflections

Disclaimer: These are my personal views drawn from very personal experiences I have had at IIMA. There will be people at IIMA who do not agree with my views. So, please respect the subjectivities inherent in the views expressed.

Being at IIMA must be a dream of millions. I do not know why and how God found me worthy enough to be a part of this hallowed institution. I feel overwhelmed by this wonderful stroke of luck, if I may call it that. It has been around 45 days that I am calling myself a WIMWIan and the feeling is heady. It's heady partly because of the premium Indian society lays on people who have studied here, and partly because, the experience of being a part of the IIMA fraternity in itself is mind boggling. The structures here make me push my limits even if I do not want to, or even if I am not ready for it. The structures make sure that I make myself ready for the war. Yes, everyday here is a war against time, against laxity, against mediocrity, against complacence, ag…

a poem on deep, dark death

we all die as unfinished chapters.  wanting to do more, but given less wanting to love more, but left alone wanting to live, but left dead
we all die as unfulfilled wishes wanting to talk but left dumb wanting to cry with no tears wanting to die, but left alive
we all die bit by bit, inch by inch when heart stops wishing and desires stop coming we die a bit everytime we kill ourselves
we all die one day when grammar doesn't matter nor does metre all that matters is the deep dark death in all its glory, peace and mystery!