horizontaly parked in diagonal world

Prof MC Puri of IIT Delhi died in Bangalore terrorist shootout on 28 th december 2005. " If you miss the plane by a minute then you miss the plane , so you have missed your attendance " these were the words of one of the most abhorrent professor Mr. M C Puri , during my initial days of IIT . Don't go by these harsh words, the man was very humble and extremely devoted to the subject and duties. The old man would climb 7 floor ramps early winter mornings to take MA110 (Basic engineering mathematics part-1) class . I still remember his trembling voice on the verses of calculus ,derivatives , integrals and all . The man loved discipline and we loved breaking them . Senior (star performers repeating the course) would warn not to mesh with the man and we dare never ever bunk his class or escape in between. Yes he was a kind of first year tormentor for many of us and was popular among my DU friends as well , as they would use his name to wake me up...

Searching Through the Fog Stratification is essential, I know that. But to separate yourself from the crowd, to rise from the bulk, comes with a cost — and right now, I’m feeling the weight of that toll. There are moments when I feel most alive — a drink in hand, the company of friends, a shared laugh with women I admire, the rush of a bungee jump, diving deep into the waters of Fateh Sagar Lake, wandering the hills with my people under cloudy skies and a cool mist. But even in those moments, when everything seems perfect, I find myself searching. For what, I still don’t know. I’ve spent 24 years on this earth — a life mostly carefree, bending rules, writing my own script without hurting anyone. I’ve walked alongside some incredible people. And yet, I carry with me a strange, obscure vision — one that once seemed like a spark but now feels like a fog blurring my direction. It’s this lack of clarity that’s quietly costing me. I’m in a phase where on the outside, everything might se...

One of Those Sundays Call it a fluke or fate — even I’m not sure. But last Sunday ended up being one of those rare days that quietly forces you to stop and take stock. Maybe it’s because I’ve made a decision — a promise, really — that I won’t leave this world without leaving behind something meaningful. There have been many Sundays. Many days that came and went unnoticed. But this one felt different — like a dream that most of us secretly hope for. I had some unfinished business to attend to — a SIMCAT exam that went horribly wrong, mostly because I was too busy fiddling with a pair of sundried sticks, trying to familiarize myself with a local custom. I came home exhausted — mentally drained from the test, physically spent after a brutal leg day at the gym. There we were, all of us, sitting around, talking about the future of HR and the state of the world. As always, the conversation spiraled into big ideas and philosophical musings. I’ve always believed there’s no “problem” as su...