We’re all in a hurry, trying to outrun our own shadow. But the strange thing is, we’re not just using our own energy to run this race. We’re borrowing speed from the future, with a little help from the bank. And the interest rate on a rushed life? It’s always higher than you think.
Everybody wants to be perfect. They tell you to strive for it, to chase it. But what if perfection is a mental trap? What if the real secret to thriving, to actually getting stuff done, is learning the delicate, misunderstood art of mediocrity?
We’re all watching the news about AI like a Bollywood suspense thriller—robots, job losses, the end of humanity as we know it. But if you take a step back and squint a little, you’ll see it’s just history repeating itself. With better graphics.
It started with my kid. That infuriating, two-word grenade they lob at you when you’re trying to impart some hard-earned wisdom. But somewhere between yelling about dirty socks and messy rooms, I realized that simple question was a mirror. And what it showed me changed everything.
Remember that feeling? When the teacher asks a question and the whole class raises their hands, except you. It’s like a spotlight from hell. But what if the tables were turned? What if you were the only one who knew the answer, and your greatest challenge was to stay silent?
There’s a strange kind of thrill we get from doing something others can’t. A coveted concert ticket, a perfect gym selfie, or watching a reality show where someone gets eliminated. It’s not just about our own success—it’s about the silent pleasure of seeing someone else lose. What does this say about us?
We’re all just objects in a state of rest or motion, desperately wanting to stay that way. The universe, though, is full of Mondays, alarm clocks, and ‘colony uncles’ trying to force us into doing things. And that’s where all the trouble starts.
had a thought today that felt less like a thought and more like a premonition. It’s about the future of work, and it’s a bit strange, a bit scary, but also… a bit exciting. The world we’re preparing our kids for might not even have “jobs” in the way we understand them. It’s a world where you’re a chai-sipping freelancer instead of an office-going employee.
We’re so used to measuring our worth in salary slips and promotions that we forget the silent, magical things we’re brilliant at. The things that don’t earn a rupee but keep our whole world from falling apart. This is a story about those skills, the ones you take for granted, and the quiet geniuses who possess them.
There’s a special kind of restaurant in India. Not the five-star, ‘shhh-we’re-too-posh-to-talk’ places where you feel guilty for just breathing. And not the chaotic roadside dhabas where everyone’s fighting for a plate of Idly like it’s the last meal on Earth. I’m talking about the family restaurant. The middle ground. The place that’s always ‘just
