The other day, while talking to a friend I have known for 10 years and more, we came to the startling realization that it was not the unknowing of each other that created rifts between us the past two years, but the knowing of each other. When you know someone, you tend to form perceptions,
Tick tock, tick tock. The clock struck its own rhythm. She hated it. It seemed relentless. There was no end to it, was there? Tick tock, tick tock. Every second. Then, every 2 hours, that ridiculous cuckoo would come out. The noise was getting on her nerves. She glanced at her watch, which unlike the
I had a strange dream last night where I dreamt of my old dog, Bambi. She was a gorgeous Labrador cross who I adopted late in life. I dreamt that I had left her locked in my bedroom in my house, and gone to stay in my parents’ house. In the morning, I wake up
Have you ever had a day, which fills you with soul-shattering, mind-elevating epiphanies? Today is 8/26. It becomes reduced to 8/8. In Chinese numerology, 8 is considered the lucky number. The number itself is a double knot. And there were two knots today. It is symbolic because I felt every single knot in me dissolve.
Yesterday, a friend messaged me saying she was quite upset, annoyed, and was miserable. I responded saying, “I am upset and annoyed, too. With work. With people. With life. Fed up with all of these.” There must have been a shocked silence. Well, as much of a silence as you can gauge on What’s App
I am not much of a believer in societally sanctioned ways of living together. The thing called love doesn’t much understand itself in a legal contract, but it’s the way we do business. Ooops, I mean relationships. I am always afraid my dislike for institutionalized marriage might come across as a judgement on the sanity
The last time I came to Ooty was when I was graduating from high school. I was a certified loner then, and I remember thinking that my biggest fear then was if anyone would agree to be my roommate. I don’t remember anything of Ooty. Not its hills, not its climate, not its gorgeous chocolates.
I am sitting cross-legged in a fairly large meditation hall, my knees resting awkwardly on two pillows. I am propped up on two other pillows. Outside, I hear birds and a grass-cutting machine hypnotically whirring its way through. Inside the hall, someone coughs. I hear the person next to me deeply sigh. I bend over,
I first started meditating more than a decade ago when I was in college. That time, I devoured self-help books in an effort to project myself as a strong, confident woman. Or at least, to believe that I did. I went through Joseph Murphy’s “The Power of the Subconscious Mind,” and the “Silva Mind Control
A friend of mine sent me this link in the morning. It’s a beautiful page and was just what I needed. On Being is a “social enterprise” with a radio show at its heart. It looks at questions that we wonder about but are always scared to ask: What does it mean to be human,