horizontaly parked in diagonal world

In the story of every family, there are quiet heroes whose legacy lives not through headlines but through the values they pass down — perseverance, sacrifice, and grace. For my family, that strength flows from the formidable foundation laid by extraordinary women: my grandmother and my mother. The Unyielding Spirit of My Grandmother My paternal grandmother was not just the matriarch of our family — she was its backbone. Widowed at middle age in the volatile, fragmented capital of Bihar, she faced a harsh world with nothing but grit and determination. Left to raise a large family, she did not succumb to despair. Instead, she became an unlikely entrepreneur, selling toddy — a traditionally male-dominated trade — amid a climate of uncertainty and violence. Her eldest son supported her, but the weight of the household largely rested on her shoulders. She continued working tirelessly until the age of 75, never once stepping back or slowing down. Her resolve, stamina, and ability to lead a f...

  We often speak about beauty as if it were an absolute truth. We say something is beautiful the way we might say something is tall or is heavy . But the more one thinks about it, the more fragile that certainty becomes. Perhaps what we call beauty is not an objective quality at all. It may simply be a signal our biology has taught us to recognize. Across human history, attraction has served a purpose. Certain facial symmetries, body proportions, skin textures, or expressions may have signaled health, fertility, or genetic strength to our ancestors. Over thousands of generations, our brains learned to notice these signals quickly. What we experience as attraction may simply be an ancient biological algorithm quietly running in the background of our minds. This would explain why beauty changes so dramatically across cultures and time. What one era considers the ideal form, another era may ignore. In some societies fuller bodies were admired; in others, slenderness became fashio...

  I have never believed in ghost stories. I studied science. I believe in reason, probability, and cause and effect. Yet once in my life I witnessed something so strange that even today I struggle to explain it. It began with an inexplicable journey across half of India—and ended with a moment in my own house that felt deeply supernatural. It happened during Diwali in my third year at IIT. Diwali was usually not a holiday for us, but that year our exams had just finished and there was a short break. Many students were leaving for home. I had no such plan. My home was on the other side of the country, and traveling that far as a student with little money was not easy. Then my friend Kailash from Kanpur casually asked me, “Why don’t you come with me to Kanpur? From there you can go to Patna.” I had never attempted something like that—cutting across half of India just to reach home for Diwali. But for reasons I could not explain, I agreed almost immediately. Looking back, it felt less...

 It was just another day in my IIM classroom—or so I thought. Accounting lectures usually had a reputation for being dry, and I had a tendency to get a little… distracted. That day, my behavior apparently crossed a line. To my shock, the professor—a lady with a sharp eye for detail—asked me to leave the classroom. Leave. The whole class went silent for a moment. Being asked out of an IIM classroom is almost unheard of. Postgraduate students are supposed to be adults, responsible for their own learning, and professors generally focus more on teaching than disciplining. But here I was, sitting outside the door, realizing this was serious. The punishment didn’t end there. I was given a case study to solve—something that felt more like a challenge than an assignment. That evening, I was asked to meet her. She didn’t scold me loudly, she didn’t raise her voice—but her disappointment was clear. Her subtle disapproval hit harder than any lecture could. It made me reflect: Was I really t...

Five years isn’t a long time on paper. But in terms of inner shifts? It’s an entire era. If I could go back and sit with the version of me from 2019-2020, I wouldn’t give him advice on business plans, gym routines, or market trends. I’d talk about himself . About what he was ignoring, resisting, or misunderstanding about his own wiring. Here’s what I wish I truly understood about myself back then: 1. I’m Not “Falling Behind” — My Timeline is Mine Back then, I used to believe success had a ticking clock. If a venture failed, if a relationship didn’t progress, if others seemed “ahead” — it felt like personal failure. But life isn’t a race. It’s not even a straight line. Some people sprint, some wander, some restart from zero multiple times. What I’ve learned? My pace is not slow. It’s deliberate. And that’s okay. 2. I Crave Depth, Not Noise While others chased fast wins, trends, or shallow validation, I often found myself overthinking — about people, decisions, even s...

There was a time when heartbreak ended with silence. A letter never replied to. A phone call left unanswered. A physical presence gone. The pain was sharp — but final. Now, heartbreak lingers in pixels . It lives in “Seen 4:32 PM.” In profile pictures that still smile. In Spotify playlists updated with cryptic intent. In stories watched, but texts ignored. We are breaking up while still being watched. We grieve under surveillance — mutual, silent, haunting. 👻 The New Ghosts The modern ghost doesn’t vanish — they hover . They check your story. They like your post a week later. They follow your every move without ever speaking again. You’re not blocked. You’re not chosen. You exist in their peripheral awareness — and they in yours. This isn’t closure. It’s exposure. 🧠 Our Brains Aren’t Wired for “Seen” Evolution didn’t prepare us for this kind of ambiguity. What does it mean? Were they busy? Were they hurt? Was it on purpose? We spiral because the loop...

 In the summer of 1998, just after our intermediate exams, seven of us — wide-eyed, full of dreams, and hungry for adventure — set off on what was supposed to be a simple exam trip from Patna to Allahabad . It was supposed to be about engineering entrance tests, staying focused, and chasing our career dreams. But honestly? It turned into one of the most unforgettable trips of our lives . 🚆 The Train Ride That Had It All We boarded the train with exam stress in one hand and wild energy in the other. The squad: Dharmbir Singh , Shah Ali Adnan , Shwetank Chandra , Anubhav Jha , Tashfeen Khan , and me — all of us just 15–16 years old, with a head full of hope and hearts full of mischief. Squad goals, 1998 edition – on the way to Allahabad with big dreams and bigger jokes . A couple of beers may or may not have made their way into our hands (you know how "cool" we felt back then). Somewhere near Buxar, our laughter got a bit too loud — and boom, enter the RPF . That moment when...

Introduction At first glance, a Jain monk walking barefoot with a bowl in hand and a fitness enthusiast lifting weights in an air-conditioned gym might seem like they live on different planets. One avoids worldly pleasures; the other embraces body sculpting and physical prowess. But beneath the surface, both lifestyles are built on intent, control, and self-mastery . This surprising overlap offers a refreshing perspective on what it really means to live with purpose. 1. Discipline is Everything Gym-goer : Wakes up early, follows a strict workout routine, resists junk food, tracks progress, and avoids distractions. Jain : Follows vratas (vows), wakes up before sunrise, fasts regularly, meditates, and practices absolute discipline in action and thought. 🧠 Both understand that growth — physical or spiritual — demands routine and repetition. 2. Control Over Desires Gym-goer : Controls cravings to reach fitness goals — skipping dessert, saying no to weekend binges, etc....

 It’s been 20 years, but I still remember every rep from that first day at the gym. Not because I was excited… But because it hurt — in ways I didn't even know were possible. I walked in unsure, already a bit apprehensive about the whole “gym life.” I wasn’t confident, wasn’t fit, and honestly wasn’t sure if this was something I was built for. But I showed up. My trainer didn’t believe in “easing into it.” No gentle welcome, no warm-up stretches, no prep talk. Just a cold, printed body chart that looked innocent… until it started hurting. The lineup: Chin-ups – 10×4 Shoulder Dumbbell Press – 10×4 Lat Pulldown (Multigym) – 10×4 Indian Dips – 10×4 Bench Press (Machine) – 10×4 Dips – 10×4 Dumbell Biceps – 10×4 Bicep Curls – 10×4 That’s 32 sets of pain. By the time I was halfway through, my arms felt like lead. My chest burned, my shoulders were trembling, and every drop of sweat felt like it was carrying away my will to continue. There were no break...

Women in the video taught at an Allahabad school. We, too, had our share of gorgeous teachers at Don Bosco—clearly reflected in my top-ranking report card! Beautiful women aren’t just inspiring; they make this planet worth staying on.