Whispering Shadow

My first year of the fellowship is almost nearing an end. It has been one crazy roller coaster ride with its share of highs and lows. I have too many things on my mind and I am hoping by writing them down, I will free up some much needed mind space for other equally important things. Showing gratitude was one of my new year resolutions. I want to end the year by thanking everyone (or everything) who (which) has helped me see this through. In no specific order, I would like to acknowledge: My students, Mehak and Aliya , for constantly showing me the mirror and setting high expectations of me in the classroom - whether it is in my conduct or in my effort. My students, Muzammil and Awesh , for making me see that permanent change has no easy fixes. My students, Alfiya and Farheen , for making me believe that transformation is possible and there is a leader in each of us that is waiting to be discovered. My students , in general, for all the love and for providing me the toughest ch...

Oh beloved! I come to thee Delinquent I have been Please forgive me. Blinded by the darkness Agony I couldn't see Hold my hand I will set you free. Don't find answers For none you will find Seek no love That love, you will leave behind. Embrace me Once again be strong The divine light beckons To eternity you will belong. Yonder lies a world The abode of the soul End the battle within Let the pieces form a whole. PS: Dedicated to the one loved by the ones I love.

Though the Time Machine in the H.G.Wells' novella may still be a distant reality, I have managed to discover its not-so-close substitute in the form of a b-school. It seems just yesterday that I landed at MDI, fresh and full of apprehensions about what the coming few months are going to throw on me. I have become one-sixth of an MBA since then, I have given 14 exams and 28 quizzes in the process, submitted around half a dozen projects and haven't quite realized where was it that the learning has happened, though I am certain it has. It is as if all the actions were involuntarily performed by a unknown side of me. What has happened more consciously is that I have been promoted from the nocturnal creatures to a qualified insomniac. Seniors say if you are sleeping too much, you are not making the most of your time in a b-school, which I partly agree with. Say for instance the last week from Monday to Friday, I slept for 4,5,3,4,2 hours per day respectively everyday. And sometimes ...

One of my best friends is someone who I didn't meet for over a year into our friendship. For the people that we were, it was an oddity that we became such close friends over what was just a series of bytes exchanged over the net (I have one more reason why they call it the net, because you can catch some great friends here). Series of bytes is an understatement though. We literally shared our lives, or so I would like to believe. We knew what was happening with our common and non-common friends, our families, on the work front, inside our head, outside our head, whether emotionally, materialistically, spiritually and otherwise. Our wavelengths matched perfectly. Our attitudes were similar. We were both rational, ultra-liberal, thinkers and believers in reason and the merit of work. It was too much of a coincidence. We would ask each other if we were for real. The friendship seemed too good to be true. As a consequence, we would wonder if it would be the same when we met, whether th...

I finally found the right reason to show the wrong finger. On the 30th of April, I voted, as did many other Indians. Since it was my first time, I was all gung ho and reached the polling booth well before time. My name was not in the electoral roll on the polling booth so I had to do a bit of running around to find my polling booth. But I did not give up. I had the mark on my finger (which is unintentionally creative in shape, reminding me of a top view of the head of a flying eagle). Standing in front of the voting machine, I saw 16 names, all losers in their own right. It was a tough call between choosing a candidate keeping the central government policies as well as progress of the constituency in mind. I could have chosen an independent who brought with him/her only a promise and no political lineage or capacity to bring about change. I could have chosen a seasoned MP who would have a higher probability to be a part of the ruling coalition at the center and a contribute to decision...

Despite being incredibly busy over the past few days, I have managed to find time for many of my favourite activities, which  includes photography (here I go again!). My subjects off late have been varied and mostly natural. And in all I have noticed one common thread - they look more beautiful when they are where they truly belong. A monkey jumping from one branch to another in a dense forest...another scratching his friend's back to relieve him from his itchiness...flowers that wear colours with textures that only enhance their splendour...a lake that provides a mirror to the sky above and the forest surrounding it...a shoe print in the sand, burying a leaf with ruthless perfection...the lack of sophistication of villagers, that you so want but can't have...or the sun taking  time off from it's boredom of watching over many lives it has brightened in one part, only to see some more in another. They are sights which give me contentment, put me at peace with myself. They gi...

While I was waiting on the station for my train to arrive, I noticed bustling on the rails abutting the platform. I had to strain hard to gauge what was transpiring in the veil of darkness. A mischief of rats was scouring the gravel for food in the litter which had been thrown by irresponsible passengers on the tracks. They moved at a great pace crisscrossing between the two parallel lines, as if it was the last time they were ingesting for many years to come. A train was approaching. I was hoping that their animal instincts would forewarn them to evacuate their feeding grounds for the safe shelters of the sewer drains. But they didn’t budge. They persisted with the hogging. I gave the train a miss to see what damage had the train done to them. Guess what? I didn’t see one dead rat. They went on with their customary routine. Fear is such a subjective emotion, I said to myself, both in its presence and effects. I caught the next train. I was in a first class bogie. Through the metallic ...