friday evening,

I close the fridge door,

the light goes off,

everyone is happy out there, eating

you didn’t get picked.

There’s nothing I can say or think,

that would make it better,

it’s going to suck for a while,

but then it will get better.

Short-term pain, or long-term unhappiness,

You have to pick one, can’t avoid both.

“I’m finally going to business school!!” exclaimed Ajit after spending over a decade planning, failing, replanning, failing and then finally getting through one of the most moderate MBA programs in the world.

My journey started when I landed in the US about 10 years ago, I got off the plane…

Dedicated to the people who taught me the basic philosophy of writing and rewriting my goals everyday

I believe that we are living in the fourth industrial revolution marked by technologies such as artificial intelligence, Internet-of-Things (IoT), autonomous vehicles, machine learning, nanotechnology etc. These technologies are fundamentally transforming our lives…

How many times have you stifled a smile?

Postponed a hug that would crush ribs

Held back arms meant to outstretch enveloping your love

And instead wrapped them loosely around yourself.

Ran half a distance.

Arrived but not reached.

Have you won running half a race?

Loved with half a…

A butterfly on the trail,

As I shot past it on a mountain,

Wearily lays there and wouldn’t flutter,

I halt, turn back after few paces,

A broken wingtip,

Cup it and plant it in the brown grass,

I hope this lessened somehow,

The pain of it’s last moments.

Sitting in a stark yellow chair the same evening,

A part of me believes,

It flew once again under the warm sun.

Indian kids of the last quarter of the twentieth century [we sound quite like the historic heroes, don’t we?] were gifted in a way, especially in matters of chocolates, candies and toffees. …

It’s a bright morning in Sunnyvale, my feet are propped up on the table, beams of sunrays are caressing my face in alternate patters of black and white filtering through the curtains of my living room. Coffee is still warm, the steam from the mug shining when it mixes with…

हम पंछी उन्मुक्त गगन के
पिंजरबद्ध न गा पाऍंगे
कनक-तीलियों से टकराकर
पुलकित पंख टूट जाऍंगे ।

हम बहता जल पीनेवाले
मर जाऍंगे भूखे-प्यासे
कहीं भली है कटुक निबोरी
कनक-कटोरी की मैदा से ।

स्वर्ण-श्रृंखला के बंधन में
अपनी गति, उड़ान सब भूले
बस सपनों में देख रहे हैं
तरू की फुनगी पर के झूले ।

ऐसे थे अरमान कि उड़ते
नील गगन की सीमा पाने
लाल किरण-सी चोंच खोल
चुगते तारक-अनार के दाने ।

होती सीमाहीन क्षितिज से
इन पंखों की होड़ा-होड़ी
या तो क्षितिज मिलन बन जाता
या तनती सॉंसों की डोरी ।

नीड़ न दो, चाहे टहनी का
आश्रय छिन्न-भिन्न कर डालो
लेकिन पंख दिए हैं तो
आकुल उड़ान में विघ्न न डालो ।

-(शिवमंगल सिंह सुमन) ShivMangal Singh Suman

I write so that I do not forget things. For me, it’s a simple yet effective way to recall events and thoughts. I do not do it often but I think about it rather frequently. Often on my long runs, or short runs I tend to think of a milieu…

I am distraught,


Hair ruffled,

Sinewy arms flailing, punching the air,

Holding on to an imaginary warm body,

Palms outstretched,

Breaking ribs.

Memories simmering in the heart,

Warmth of the light back home,

coursing, taking over my being.

A lion’s heart and legs of steel,

My name is Unvanquished.

A man Rooted in Dreams.

Will not quit.


Like the gray days, life passes quickly

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