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Inner Revival

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  The UPSC result came. I had scored 86 . The cutoff was 90 . Just four marks. Four cruel marks. I closed my laptop and didn’t open it again for days. Something inside me just… collapsed. I had poured an entire year into this attempt — months of isolation, discipline, and blind faith that maybe, just maybe, it would all pay off. But here I was, alone in my room, the weight of failure pressing down on my chest like a rock. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just froze. For the next one week, I disappeared from the world. I binge-watched web series, scrolled endlessly, ate irregularly. I avoided calls, messages, everything. My mind was like a paused movie, looping only one thought: “What now?” That’s when Ajith , my friend, called. He asked about the result. I told him. He paused and then said gently, “Da… come out of it for a while. I’m quitting my IT job. The pay is meagre. Thought of taking a break… Want to join me for a trip to Idukki? It will be good for both of us.” Something ab...
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The Art of Presence

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  It had been a long time since our family had taken a break together. We went on a one-day trip to Varkala to celebrate my parents' 25th wedding anniversary. It was a small celebration, but one filled with love, laughter, and lots of memories. The next day I woke up early and went for a walk on the beach around 6 AM. It was quiet. Very few people were around. The sea was calm. The sound of the waves was the only thing I could hear. In front of me was the vast Arabian Sea, and behind me stood the tall and beautiful Varkala Cliff. I felt peace. Rarely do Indian beaches offer this kind of calm. Usually, they're bursting with people, selfies, music, and chaos. But this morning was different. It felt like the world had paused—for me, for this moment. I stood there facing the vast Arabian Sea and mentally traced a line across the ocean. “If I travel 4000 kilometres straight from here,” I thought, “I’d land in Somalia.” Funny how small and connected the world can seem when you...
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The Great Veg Kuruma Mishap

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  Hostel food sucks. It’s one of those universal truths of student life. Some days, you tolerate it. Other days, your soul demands justice. That day was one of those days. The food was so bad, even my survival instincts rebelled. There was only one solution—eating outside. So, I did what any good friend would do—I dragged my best buddies, Thakur Bhai, Navaneeth, and Mhathung, out for a food mission. Now, before I dive into the actual incident, let me introduce the main character of this story—Shrikant Thakur, aka Thakur Bhai, the undisputed pride of Uttar Pradesh. But to understand why this guy is legendary, we need to rewind a bit. The Covid Chronicles: How It All Began Our first year of college was nothing short of a disaster. Thanks to Covid-19, we were stuck in online classes, pretending to listen while secretly watching Netflix. Among the many courses we had, there was this one Foundational Course —basically, a glorified Moral Science class. The professor? Mr. Devasahayam,...
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Erased Voices

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  During my second year of college, I was assigned a thought-provoking yet complex topic: Historical Injustice Faced by Women in India. It wasn’t just another research paper; it was a deep dive into the centuries of suppression, discrimination, and struggles endured by women in our patriarchal society. I knew the topic was vast, and merely scratching the surface wouldn't do justice to it. I needed insight—something beyond the usual textbooks and online articles. That’s when I thought of Arpita didi. She was my senior and a researcher working on Unsung Women in Indian History. If anyone could offer me a fresh and compelling perspective, it was her. I approached her one evening after class, hoping she would share some valuable insights. To my delight, she was more than willing to help. We met in the college library, where the towering bookshelves stood as silent witnesses to the history we were about to unravel. As we settled in a quiet corner, flipping through dusty old texts,...
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Echoes of Greed

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 In the beginning, the world was whole. The rivers flowed freely, carving paths through valleys where life blossomed in vibrant hues. Forests whispered ancient songs, their roots cradling the earth in quiet harmony. The winds, gentle yet fierce, carried the scent of rain and the laughter of creatures born from the soil. Each being played its part—balanced, connected, belonging. Man, too, was born of the earth, moulded from the same clay, breathing the same air. In those early days, he listened to the pulse of nature, drinking from its wisdom. He took only what was needed—nothing more, nothing less. The earth gave freely, for man honoured its gifts. But as the seasons turned, something stirred within him—an ache, a hollow space he could not name. It began as a whisper, a quiet hunger to have more, to know more, to be more. Gratitude blurred into longing. Respect twisted into desire. And so, man grew restless. One evening, as the sun bled into the horizon, the man sat by the edge of ...
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