(The following message was written for the Golden Jubilee Reunion of my IAS batch, which entered the Lal Bahadur Shastri National Academy of Administration in July 1976. Unable to attend the reunion, I shared these reflections with my batchmates. While prompted by a very personal occasion, the thoughts themselves seem to me relevant to anyoneContinue reading “What Remains – The Grace of the Years”
Tag Archives: life
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”
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”
Rain, Briefly!
This evening, in Bengaluru, the rain arrived—not with the authority of the monsoon, nor with the drama of a seasonal shift, but with a certain hesitation. It was preceded, as such moments often are, by a gathering restlessness. The wind rose first—uneven, exploratory—moving through the trees with a sound that was neither whisper nor warning.Continue reading “Rain, Briefly!”
Bengaluru in April
I have come back to Bengaluru for a while—long enough, hopefully, to continue understanding something of its temperament. It is a city that both fascinates and unsettles me: in the feel and fragrance of its air, in the interplay of its sounds and silences, and above all, in the restless energy of its people. ToContinue reading “Bengaluru in April”
By The Window, After Snow
The universe outside my window has been gentled into whiteness. Snow lies everywhere—on roofs, on branches, on the grass now indistinguishable from sky’s reflection—softening edges, quietening intention. In such weather, it seems almost instinctive to remain indoors, to honour warmth as one honours safety. Why would anyone willingly step out into this hushed severity unlessContinue reading “By The Window, After Snow”
Four Heads, One Tradition – The Generational Haircut
Is going to a hair salon still relevant—for men, for boys, for anyone at all? In an age of trimmers, mirrors, online tutorials, and the quiet confidence of self-maintenance, is the periodic haircut still a marker of civilised life? Or is it merely one of those habits we carry forward unquestioned, like shaking hands orContinue reading “Four Heads, One Tradition – The Generational Haircut”
Between Falling Leaves and First Snow
Musings As the Year Closes Winter has arrived almost without notice. A few snow showers have already passed through, leaving behind a softened world and the promise of more to come. The brilliant colours and ensorcelling splendour of autumn have withdrawn without farewell. The golds and crimsons that once flared so confidently leave no trace.Continue reading “Between Falling Leaves and First Snow”
scribo ad LX 