udaykumarvarma9834

The Thread That Runs Through Us

A Father’s Day Reflection Another Father’s Day has arrived.A year has passed yet not much has changed. Or perhaps everything has changed, but so gradually that one notices it only when pausing to look back.My father remains absent and present in equal measure. Forty-seven years after his departure, I still find myself consulting him inContinue reading “The Thread That Runs Through Us”

At Seventy-Three Part-II

A Reflection on Time, Purpose, and Quiet Continuance Part II: Continuance Stillness, in these years, acquires a deeper meaning. What appears outwardly as withdrawal may inwardly be a fuller engagement. Ancient wisdom has always hinted at this paradox: there is action in inaction, and inaction in action. A slower pace allows attention to deepen. OneContinue reading “At Seventy-Three Part-II”

At Seventy-Three-Part I

A Reflection on Time, Purpose, and Quiet Continuance Part I: The Clearing There comes a time in life when celebration yields, almost instinctively, to stillness. One does not resist the passing of years, nor does one hurry to greet what remains. One pauses instead, —listening for what silence, newly audible, might now be asking. Seventy-threeContinue reading “At Seventy-Three-Part I”

Horn OK Please

The Motorcycle Manifesto I wonder how many of us have experienced it. A motorcycle roars past, its silencer apparently discarded as an unnecessary accessory. The sound is not merely loud; it is physically invasive. Startled pedestrians look up in alarm. Conversations stop mid-sentence. Birds take flight. For a fleeting moment one wonders whether a movingContinue reading “Horn OK Please”

What Draws Millions to Vrindavan?

The queue moved so slowly that it seemed hardly to move at all. The summer sun beat down relentlessly upon Vrindavan. Faces glistened with perspiration. Elderly pilgrims leaned against railings for support, a few of them confined to wheelchairs, with sons or relatives standing patiently behind them. Women from every background chatted ceaselessly to passContinue reading “What Draws Millions to Vrindavan?”

भवभूति, समय और सृजनात्मकता

साहित्य में कुछ विभूतियाँ अपनी असंख्य कृतियों के कारण अमर होती हैं, और कुछ ऐसी होती हैं जिनकी एक ही पंक्ति उनके व्यक्तित्व का शाश्वत परिचय बन जाती है। संस्कृत साहित्य के महान नाटककार भवभूति उन्हीं विरल रचनाकारों में हैं जिनकी स्मृति उनके नाटक ‘मालती माधव’ के एक श्लोक मात्र से भी जीवित है. `ये नाम केचिदिह नः प्रथयन्त्यवज्ञांContinue reading “भवभूति, समय और सृजनात्मकता”

When Paradise becomes A Parking Lot

In the past few weeks, several friends have returned from summer visits to India’s celebrated hill stations. Their stories were remarkably similar. Not one began by describing pine forests, mountain sunsets, misty mornings or cool evenings. Instead, they spoke of traffic jams stretching for kilometres, vehicles crawling for hours along mountain roads, overflowing hotels, litteredContinue reading “When Paradise becomes A Parking Lot”

The Gift of Manikarnika

The evening I left Manikarnika, I imagined I was leaving a place. In the days that followed, I realised that I had carried it along with me. The smells that had assailed me faded quickly. The sounds of Varanasi receded into memory. Yet the questions raised by that ancient cremation ground remained stubbornly alive. TheyContinue reading “The Gift of Manikarnika”

Manikarnika: Where Fire Becomes Eternity

I arrived at Manikarnika as the sun was preparing to leave the sky. The evening light had begun to soften the hard outlines of Varanasi. As I walked through the city’s labyrinthine lanes, Kashi displayed all its familiar contradictions at once—pilgrims and shopkeepers, temple bells and motorcycle horns, saffron-clad ascetics and foreign visitors, all sharingContinue reading “Manikarnika: Where Fire Becomes Eternity”

Leaving Bengaluru

I shall be leaving Bengaluru in a day or two, after having lived here during two distinct periods: first between September 2024 and July 2025, and then again during these recent months from March to May 2026. Between them, I have seen the city through almost all its seasons—under monsoon skies, amid flowering summers, in koel-filled mornings,Continue reading “Leaving Bengaluru”