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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All that glitters is white

This forms the main ingredient of my sunday once in two weeks. Taking my laundry bag and walking upto a mile to wash my clothes at MOBIL is undoubtedly the most painful experience of the fortnight. Imagine doing this on a wintry afternoon at sub-zero temperatures. The pain would start two days before actually doing the laundry. The most common feeling would be - Oh No! Not again! The next obvious question would prop up almost at the next nano second - How I wish I had a car! Sadly though, student life does not yield handsome income, and we have to make do with what we have. But, this is definitely a much better situation to be in than washing it on your own. That would have been even more frustrating. No wonder I can imagine most of the hostel guys to wear the same old clothes for a long period of time. The colour fades to different shades, the original colour is lost by not washing it at all, and the brown tinge adds a totally new stinking sensation to your clothes. Most of them would dread to go near the hostel guy fearing a bad outcome. No wonder, fellow hostel guys flock together, and only a hostel guy can understand a fellow hostel guy's situation. Thankfully, here, all these things can be avoided.

The machines at MOBIL are just great. Pop in 2$ in quarters, come back in half an hour, and your clothes are washed to a nicety. I get reminded of the Rin advertisement back in India, where a beautiful lady is draped in a lightning white saree. The freshness associated with the clothes, thanks to the softener, brings a nice feeling to the senses. After this, the dryer is filled with the washed clothes, and post heavy turbulence for about 25 minutes, out emerges the clothes, as if it was hanging in your courtyard the whole day. I am ready to bask in the glory of washed clothes for two weeks.

Two weeks later...

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