...I Don't Understand This Either.

So much is lost in the words. Ideas, trust. And sometimes, even love. We've been told the problem is that we listen to respond. That if we could just slow down, put the phone away, stop interrupting — we would finally hear each other. And maybe that's

Somewhere Back There, You Put It Down

One day you reach for something you used to carry. A story. A wound. A way of explaining yourself to yourself. And it's not there. Not because you dropped it dramatically, in a moment of great personal clarity. But because somewhere back there, without noticing, you just... put

Live Your Way Into The Answer

Some weeks arrive carrying more questions than answers. The temptation, as always, is to resolve them quickly. To find the explanation, the lesson, the neat conclusion. Rilke knew this feeling. He wrote to a young poet who was doing exactly that — reaching for answers before he had learned to sit

Two Pieces, Made to Fit. Separate but Together.

After several hot and still days, it's breezy this evening. As I write, I look beyond my desk to a balcony — tall plants moving gently in the breeze. The sun is setting somewhere far on the horizon. I can't see it from here. But the sky

Daksh. The Quantum Collapse.

In the quantum realm, an electron exists as a wave of pure possibility. Here, there and everywhere. No fixed location. No predetermined path. Infinite, free, undecided. Until it is observed. In quantum language, observation simply means this — the moment anything in the physical world interacts with the electron, touches it,

Perfectly Alone.

Eight billion people on this planet. Yet alone. From time to time we reach this point. Maybe right now. Maybe last Tuesday. Maybe at a party last month surrounded by people who knew our name. Maybe it's because we've never quite separated two things that feel

Chitra. Gupt.

Of all the characters in the Puranas, Chitragupt is the one who keeps catching me off guard. Apparently he does the same to Claude. Because that's what he does. You're deep in the great cosmic drama — Shiv, Sati, the wars, the churning of oceans — and then

PS - What I Actually Meant Was.....

On footnotes, and the truth we hide in the margin The narrative is what we tell. The footnote is what we can't help telling. Think about the last time someone told you their story and said "and this is probably irrelevant but—" You leaned in. Because

She didn't die because medicine failed her. She died because no one had ever spoken to her in her own language.

A woman died from something treatable. Her family didn't call a doctor. They called someone to remove the nazar. This is why SuperMummy exists.