Heartbeat of a raindrop

I was probably exposed to my love language very early in life, though it took me 25 years to truly understand what it meant. It wasn’t until I moved to Kharagpur for my master’s that I began to realize its depth and value. As a child, I loved eating vada and sambar, especially the sweet, Mangalore-style variety. Even today, I could sip through buckets of it without pause. Sadly, I couldn’t find that exact taste in Kharagpur or here in Edmonton, but that never stopped me from eating or loving food. In India, food is more than sustenance, it is an emotion, a celebration, and often, a silent expression of love. As author Chitrita Banerji puts it in her book Eating India,  "Food in India is not just a means of satisfying hunger,  it is a cultural expression, an offering to gods, a gift to others, and a language of bonding." In Kharagpur, I began experimenting more in the hostel room with a portable induction stove, cooking with whatever ingredients I could find. That’s how I en...

They say, 'Time heals everything' . But does it really? Or is it that 'we change over time' ? Maybe it's not time that heals; maybe it's our mind that adapts. When life throws us into turmoil, be it, heartbreak, rejection, failure, our animal instinct kick-in. We either fight or flee. Our brain gets into survival mode, desperate to fix, or escape the discomfort. We try to classify the situation in ways best known to us, i.e., good, bad, right, wrong; because ambiguity frightens us. But, life doesn't come with neat formats. It's into spreads of black and white, and everything is grey- confusing and uncomfortable. For a long time, I resented this grey zone. It made me uncomfortable, made me question everything I knew about myself. But recently, I’ve realized that, the grey zone is not a place of failure. It's a place of "self-realization". It's the messy, in-between space where real growth happens. It enables you to define your own truths...

My journey began back in high school when my maternal grandmother came to stay with us. My mom was busy running her business, and as any independent woman in her early 40s would attest, it’s not easy to start something new at that stage in life. That’s a story for another day, though. What’s crucial here is how her journey inadvertently kickstarted mine—in the kitchen. A family thrives when everyone works together, and I stepped in where I could. It all started humbly with Maggi (aka ramen) and tea. I have always preferred soupy Maggi, over the dry version, though I know many of you might disagree. My initiation into cooking also meant preparing the quintessential evening tea. In most Indian households, chai-time between 4 and 5 PM is non-negotiable. Chai with biscuits is life itself. Initially, my mom tried to make it home for lunch and prepare tea herself, but work often came first. That’s where I stepped in, and the kitchen became my experimental lab. I’ll admit, many horrible tea e...

Life presents itself in many forms, but teachers remain constant—a guiding force steering us towards progress. The best educators, in my view, are reflective practitioners, motivators, and passionate mentors. There have been numerous times when I felt like giving up—whether it was learning to drive, preparing for a competitive exam, or finding the confidence to seek a promotion. Fear of the unknown often holds us back. While it is said that teachers dispel the darkness of the mind, the wrong guidance can just as easily create lasting obstacles. One of my most challenging learning experiences was driving. It began in India before I moved to Canada. I enrolled in a driving school recommended by a colleague, expecting structured training. However, after a few classes, my instructor disappeared. Despite paying in full, I had to track him down two months later just to complete the course. Although I managed to pass the exam, I still lacked the confidence to drive independently. Fast forward...

The child chased a butterfly,   Unaware it was only a moth.   Through fields and light she ran,   Drawn by a shadow, beauty cloaked.   When at last its truth was revealed,   She sought to paint its dull wings bright,   But dyes could not remake its form,   For its essence was forged in night.   She wept for the chase, the loss, the lie,   And vowed to never again pursue shadows in disguise.   Yet, will she learn from her scars,   Or repeat until the pain burns deep?   For tireless runs leave marks anew,   Lessons unheeded, wounds that seep.   Moths outnumber butterflies,   Nocturnal forms with muted hues.   To find the rare and radiant prize,   One must learn to wait, to choose.   Ceaseless chasing brings only despair,   But patience blooms where wisdom lies.   Let the nectar-rich flower guide t...

The past shapes who we are today. Can ignoring it really help? Memories—whether of mistakes or triumphs—are like medals from battles we’ve fought. Instead of running from them, why not embrace them?  We should be okay with reminiscing the past, while also daydreaming about the future. In my opinion, realizing the fact that you are not in the present plane is an indication of self-awareness. Shutting off my phone, even briefly, gives me moments of clarity, though it’s not easy. App timers help, but I still get distracted by multiple devices that have become foundational. The struggle to stay present is real, and I’m constantly learning how to improve. We’ve all been advised to live in the present and not dwell on the past or worry about the future. This idea promises a better quality of life by helping us appreciate what we have. But how easy is it to truly live in the moment? Being present isn’t always grand or complicated. Sometimes, it’s about loving what you do or enjoying the c...