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The Paralysis of Choice

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A desk overflowing with choices — the perfect metaphor for a modern mind. I’ve always wondered why stepping outside my comfort zone feels harder than it should. With so many ways to spend time, I keep circling the same question: am I choosing what matters, or am I just numbing myself with options? Choice overload might be the defining anxiety of our era. One moment I’m browsing an AI course on Coursera, convincing myself I’ll finally finish it. The next, I’m tempted to restart my Sanskrit lessons. And somewhere in that mental whirlpool, a random LLM video on YouTube quietly steals an hour I never intended to give away. It isn’t learning — it’s drifting. I think back to my first iPhone 4. One model. One color. No storage decisions. Apple had already stripped away the noise. Life felt simpler when constraints were built in. Today everything comes in infinite flavors — phones, courses, ideas, careers, spiritual paths, entertainment platforms. Abundance looks empowering,...
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The Legacy Beneath the Leaves

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My first ever publication — a small step, but a meaningful one. Many of us carry a quiet wish to do something meaningful with our hobbies. If you love cricket, you dream of playing in a local league. If you’re passionate about music, you imagine performing for a small crowd. Some people even try their hand at stand-up comedy just to feel that spark on stage. When any of these milestones happen, it feels like a dream — not because you’ve “made it big,” but because you’ve taken one real step toward something you love. And in my book, that’s a gigantic step. This week, I finally took my own step: I published my first Kindle Single. For years, I kept sitting on ideas. I kept waiting for the “perfect” novel, the magical debut that would fetch stunning accolades. Instead, nothing moved. It was a classic case of kicking the pot in the dreams — forever imagining, never doing. But the publishing world has changed. Shorter works are w...
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When Destiny Sends Its Helpers

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Keep running. The right people find you on the way. At different stages of life, you’re confronted with different challenges. And each time you cross a hurdle, you feel that familiar sense of accomplishment. It’s tempting to attribute that success to your own skill, tenacity, and willpower — to pat yourself on the back and feel proud of how you handled it. But when you zoom out and look at the moments where you somehow managed to trump the odds, a quieter realization sets in: It’s never just you. There is always an unseen army that shows up at the right time. It was 2005. I had decided to pursue my Master’s in the US. I picked a few schools in the Midwest where the expenses were manageable, and that’s how the University of Missouri–Rolla entered the picture. But funding was still a massive question mark. I hadn’t secured any assistantship, and we didn’t have the means to pay out of pocket. We went from bank to bank, hoping for an education loan. Each manager aske...
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The Quiet Between Two Rings of a Landline

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A rotary phone – the slowest and somehow the most peaceful form of communication. This was the early nineties. Most homes didn’t have a landline. Mine didn’t either. And strangely, nobody thought it was a problem. If my father came home late from work, the family didn’t panic — we simply assumed: traffic, work, or he met a friend, in that order. My mother didn’t have a “Find My Kid” app. Her version was: divine trust and a loud voice. My brother and I would disappear into a gully or a friend’s apartment complex for hours. We walked to the library, roamed three streets away to play cricket, and trekked half a mile to Malleswaram 18th Cross ground — returning home at 6:30 or 7, covered in dust and joy. Parents assumed kids would eventually wander back home the way cows return at dusk. No drama. No helicopter parenting. Just life moving at its own calm pace. Postcards and inland letters — the original long-distance messaging apps. With no phone at home, the only wa...
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A Few Steps from Home, A Lifetime of Faith

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Some bonds are formed not in conversation, but in quiet trust. Some companions never speak — they just walk beside you, through every chapter of life. Hanuman Temple As you grow older, simple things begin to hold deeper meanings. When I was a kid, I would visit the Hanuman temple near the Malleswaram Railway Station almost every day. I’d do my pradakshanams — the quiet circumambulations — and whisper to Lord Hanuman to help me do the right thing. Over time, the visits became less of a request and more of a rhythm — part of the everyday music of life. Just a short walk from home, the temple stood like a familiar friend. And yet, it became more than a place — it became a witness. Every important moment in my life was somehow tied to that small shrine. Before paying my exam fee, I would stop there. Before collecting my hall ticket for the tenth and twelfth board exams — it went straight to Hanuman’s feet first. Before campus placements. Befor...
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On Finding Real Connections

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I’ve been thinking lately about how I like to spend time with people. Sometimes we socialize just for the sake of it. Other times, it is because we truly enjoy the company. I find the former tiring, but the latter deeply fulfilling. There is something special about being with people who make you think, who listen with intent, and who help you see the world a little differently. Whether at work or in personal circles, there is always a balance between what you enjoy and what you feel obligated to do. When you reflect on it long enough, deeper questions begin to surface. Do I socialize to grow my network? What does that even mean? Am I looking for a favor somewhere down the line? Or am I just afraid of missing out if I am not part of the local chatter? These days, most of my new interactions happen through my children. Their friends’ parents are the people I end up spending the most time with. Some of them I genuinely enjoy talking to because we connect on familiar ground. With other...
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South Canara: Where the Divine Meets the Green

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On the way back from Kukke Subramanya As a child, you visit a place and remember it - for the right reason or the wrong one. If that place leaves no mark, it simply fades away. About 25 years ago, I embarked on a temple tour across the Western Ghats with my extended family, thanks to my mama and manni (mami) . All I knew then was that it would be a fun trip. Beyond that, I had no expectations. It was a week-long pilgrimage that took us through Shravanabelagola, Belur, Halebeedu, Udupi, Dharmasthala, Sringeri, Kollur, and Horanadu. Sringeri Sharadamba Temple I still recall the enchantment of those places. The lush, evergreen slopes of the Western Ghats, bathed in the dusky hues of evening and refreshed by intermittent rain, have stayed etched in my memory ever since. Every turn on those winding roads, with terraced hillsides, charming homes, and coffee and tea plantations blending into the scenery, held an aura that words could never capture. Each stop felt like stepping into a ...
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