Like governments for people.

For the last fifteen days, I have been going through so much
that I can’t even tell.

All the time, my chest feels heavy,
like someone is drilling in my heart.

Sometimes I want to talk with everyone, even with a tree.

Sometimes I don’t.

Sometimes I don’t want to feel.

Sometimes I don’t know what to do
and what not to,

like an object.

Subscribe now

I want to read,

but words feel like Chinese.

I want to write,

but in the end, I solve a maths question.

Sometimes I forget how to read.

I make grammatical mistakes.

“I is”, “wanted was”.

Sometimes it’s hard to catch
whether it is Hindi or English.

I want to understand myself.

Sometimes I cannot understand what I am going through.

My own expectations are hurting me,

like running barefoot on coal fire.

Some days are like plains.

Some days are like plateaus.

Some days are like mountains.

Some days, even I can’t explain.

Something I have understood till now:

Life is full of ups and downs.

Enjoy your ups.

Even enjoy your downs too,

because they will give you the courage to fight the downs.

Big thank you to all my friends

who are constantly talking to me

healing me

motivating me

No matter what.

At last,

I know who I am.

I have to figure it out.

I have to heal myself.

I am the one.

I will keep going.

I will keep trying.

Slowly, slowly, I will do it.

I know I can figure it out.

Any time.

Anywhere.

Any place.

I will be happy.

I will do my best.

Share

Subscribe now

रुकना है।

दौड़-भाग कर थक चुका हूँ,

इसलिए रुकना है।

लेकिन मैं रुकना चाहता हूँ,

इसका मतलब यह नहीं है कि

मैं सफ़र छोड़ रहा हूँ।

मैं बस सफ़र में रुकना चाहता हूँ।

जैसे किसी लंबे सफ़र में

हम थोड़ी देर रुकते हैं,

चाय पीते हैं,

कहीं ठहरते हैं,

कहीं खाना खाते हैं,

और फिर उसी रास्ते पर

आगे बढ़ जाते हैं।

उसी प्रकार,

मैं भी बस कुछ समय के लिए

रुकना चाहता हूँ।

पता नहीं,

सफ़र बहुत अच्छा होता है।

सफ़र में वह आनंदमय चीज़ है

जो किसी और चीज़ में नहीं मिलती।

बस,

अभी के लिए,

कुछ समय के लिए,

मैं थोड़ी-सी ठहराव चाहता हूँ।

बचपन से रेंगने का सफ़र,

दौड़ने का सफ़र,

माँ को दौड़ाने का सफ़र,

दादी को दौड़ाने का सफ़र,

नानी को दौड़ाने का सफ़र।

फिर स्कूल जाने का सफ़र,

स्कूल में पढ़ने का सफ़र,

घर लौटने का सफ़र।

फिफ्थ क्लास में

पेंसिल से पेन का सफ़र।

एट्थ क्लास में

स्क्वायर रूट का सफ़र।

नाइन्थ क्लास में

सर्कल थ्योरम का सफ़र।

टेंथ क्लास में

इंट्रोडक्शन टू ट्रिग्नोमेट्री का सफ़र।

इलेवेंथ क्लास में

एडवांस्ड ट्रिग्नोमेट्री का सफ़र,

टेंशन का सफ़र,

स्ट्रिंग का सफ़र,

पुली का सफ़र।

दसवीं और ग्यारहवीं के बीच

बहुत बदलावों का सफ़र।

Subscribe now

बारहवीं में

नए-नए टॉपिक्स का सफ़र,

मॉडर्न फिजिक्स का सफ़र,

हेनरी का सफ़र,

कूलॉम्स लॉ का सफ़र।

फिर JEE का सफ़र।

फिर कॉलेज का सफ़र।

कॉलेज के फर्स्ट ईयर में

नए दोस्त बनने का सफ़र,

कैल्कुलस का सफ़र।

सेकंड ईयर में

और दोस्त बनने का सफ़र।

थर्ड ईयर में

कम दोस्त होने का सफ़र।

फोर्थ ईयर में

सच्चे दोस्त होने का सफ़र।

कॉलेज के बाद

मित्रता वाली दोस्ती का सफ़र,

दो दोस्तों के साथ होने का सफ़र।

कॉलेज के बाद

जॉब ढूँढ़ने का सफ़र,

स्ट्रगल का सफ़र,

स्ट्रगल में साथ देने का सफ़र,

स्ट्रगल में ख़ुद को खोने का सफ़र,

स्ट्रगल में रोने का सफ़र,

स्ट्रगल में भी स्ट्रगल का सफ़र।

जॉब में

घर से जॉब जाने का सफ़र,

जॉब से घर आने का सफ़र,

घर न जा पाने का सफ़र।

और इन सबके बीच,

ज़िंदगी चलती रहती है,

सफ़र चलता रहता है।

इसलिए मैं सफ़र में रुकना चाहता हूँ,

सफ़र छोड़ना नहीं चाहता।

बस,

कुछ समय के लिए,

थोड़ा-सा ठहरना चाहता हूँ।

बस यही कहूँगा,

बस रुकना चाहता हूँ।

Share

क्यों आते हैं लोग,
जब उन्हें रहता देखा नहीं जाता।
बहुत याद आते हैं।
उन्हें लौटता न देखा है।

शुरू से अंत तक
मिट्टी में मिलते देखा है।
कितने लोगों को टूटते देखा है।
परिवार को सदमे में देखा है।
पापा, चाचाओं को रोते देखा है।

उस दिन दादी कुछ बोल देती,
बात तो नहीं।
बोला मैंने,
आवाज़ बहुत कम कर दी थी।
शायद और रुक लेता।
उसका पछतावा देखा है।
उसके अगले दिन ही,
रात में सोते वक्त,
पछतावे का पहाड़
सिर पर पूरी तरह से देखा है।

वहीं चीज़ें थोड़ी दोहराई हैं।
नानी से भी बात हो पाती।
वो पछतावा अब तक देखा है।

उनके अचार,
उनके प्यार,
अब न देखा है।
बस जाते देखा है।
उनके रुपये चार
आज भी संजोकर रखा है।

दादी की कहानियाँ
अब सुनाई नहीं देता है।

नानी का बहुत बड़ा खाने का प्यार,
गाँव घुमाने का प्यार,
अब न देखा है।

दादी नानी को
चलने से लेकर चारपाई तक देखा है।
और हाथ पकड़ने से लेकर कंधे तक उठाकर देखा है।

उनकी बीमारियाँ और दुख
बचपन से देखा है।

क्या हमें बस
महात्मा गांधी,
जवाहरलाल नेहरू,
आज़ाद जैसी बड़ी हस्तियों को
हर साल याद करना चाहिए?

क्यों नहीं हम अपने पूर्वजों को
हर साल उनकी पुण्यतिथि पर याद करें?
कर सकते हैं।

शायद इससे अपनों को याद करते देखा है।
इससे परिवार को साथ देखा है।
और इससे घर में खुशहाली देखा है।
इससे दादी नानी के मन में
हमारे लिए खुशी देखा है।

जलते देखा है,
राख बनते देखा है।
अपनों को खाक होते देखा है।
श्मशान में भस्म होते देखा है।

Subscribe now

Leave a comment

Every year our school went camping in Gujarat. Our school took 10 students from 8th and 9th standard. It was time to decide who would go and who wouldn’t. The sir who was taking responsibility for the entire trip also asked me if I wanted to go.

“Then come,” he said.

But I said, “No, sir.”

One of my friends said, “Brother, please, let’s go, bhai. Majja aayega, fun karenge.” But again, I said no. Why? Because I overthink a lot. Before asking my parents directly, I said no.

My classmate said, “Ok, bhai.”

A few days later, in the evening, I suddenly told my mummy that my school was sending some students for camping to Gujarat, and they had asked if I would go. I said no, Maa, I told them.

After that, Papa also came, and both of them were angry with me. “Why did you say no directly? Did you ask us?” So they told me to go and talk to the teacher about this.

The next day, I went to school and talked to sir. I told him I also wanted to go to Gujarat for the trip. But sir told me that all 10 students had already given their names.

So I talked to my sir again after telling my parents. I reached out to him. “Sir, is there any place to go in Gujarat for the trip?” He told me no, there was no place, because all the students had already given their names.

“Sir, please, is there any chance to consider me?”

He told me again that all the students had already given their names. “It’s next year. Please try then.”

So I went back to my classroom.

Two or three days later, one of my friends came to me and said, “Bro, one student is not going.”

I said, “Why?”

He said the student’s parents weren’t allowing him to go to Gujarat — it was too far. That’s why his parents weren’t allowing him.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Are you sure? Because if you’re joking with me... I was so hurt after that.”

He said, “No, bro, I’m not joking.”

All the procedures, all the tickets were already done in his name, all the formalities. But I went in his place.

I also asked sir, “Sir, is it true that one student is not going?”

He told me yes, that student was not going.

I think I was so grateful at that time that I got a chance to go to Gujarat. I thanked my friend and that student too. In my mind, I thanked him. I didn’t even know who that guy was.

After that, it was time to prepare — what things I had to take, since it was winter, December. So all nine other students came to me. “Bro, for the train journey we have to think about what to eat, what not to eat. Let’s plan, let’s discuss.” So all my friends came to my home, and we discussed water, food, and all the essential things needed for the train journey and the camping in Gujarat.

One thing about my ticket — I already told you my name wasn’t on it. But the wonderful thing was that the guy who wasn’t going, his name also started with A. So “Alok” was going. That’s a very good thing.

The day came — 23rd December. The train started from my hometown, a long journey to Ahmedabad, departing at 6:30. We went by school bus to the station, around 25 kilometers from our hometown.

All the essential things we’d discussed were at my home. Before reaching the station, all the students came and took those things and loaded them onto the bus.

We all sat on the bus, and our bus started. After an hour, we reached the station. Before that, I didn’t even know there were 60 students from our area going for the camping. I thought, wow, 60 students are going — that’s wonderful. The whole coach was full of students. We made new friends.

We got into the train, sat wherever our reserved seats were, and the journey began.

So I was waiting. I kept thinking — what to do, what not to do. My first journey, my longest journey, started — because I had traveled by train many times before, but always short, local journeys, from my hometown to my village.

Slowly, slowly, the train moved from my city toward Ahmedabad. It was wonderful — my first journey, and I was totally excited. I wasn’t thinking about anything else. Just — it’s my first journey.

We kept going, going, going. We crossed MP — I saw paddy fields and jungles, totally jungles, because MP and Chhattisgarh are full of forests. Somewhere along the way, we passed Billi Junction, and I remember just staring at the name, wondering — billi?! Then we reached Rajasthan. We had so much fun on the train, full, full — I don’t even know what we were doing, but we were having total fun.

We reached Ahmedabad station. From there we had to catch another train to Rajkot, a six-hour journey. We reached with only five minutes left because our train was already six or seven hours late. So we were running, running, running fast to catch it. We caught it, took the train, and reached our destination — Rajkot.

From Rajkot, we booked a bus to Pranshala village. A wonderful village. I had never seen solar panels like that, a solar plant that large. I also saw windmills. That was wonderful, because I had studied renewable sources of energy in 7th, 8th, 9th standard, and what I had studied in books, I saw in real life. So wonderful.

We reached, we didn’t get a proper room, just a hall — all 60 students slept in one big hall. We stayed there for 8 to 10 days.

We reached, freshened up. I wouldn’t even call it a “camp,” because I didn’t fully know what it was — there were army people, navy people, BSF, CISF, CRPF, army commandos, Indian Coast Guard, NDRF. We got a chance to meet them.

Every day, we got three meals — breakfast, lunch, dinner. Every morning, the CISF and BSF people came, woke us up, and we went out for exercise. After the exercise, the CISF officers would always play a game with us — different games every time, next-level games, though I don’t remember exactly what they were.

After that, we came back, got dressed, took a bath, and went for the morning session — seated in front of 20,000 students. Every single day, we got a chance to meet new personalities — army chiefs, corporate leaders, some of the biggest CEOs, UN chiefs. It was a wonderful thing, meeting someone new almost every day. Even Shaktimaan came at the end.

Every afternoon, one big personality would come and talk to us, and some of us got to ask questions. At night, there was an orchestra — the army sang songs, they had a band; the navy had its own band; the BSF too. Every force had a different band, a different theme, different music. What I experienced in my life, I can’t even fully tell you. It’s a good memory.

We also visited exhibitions — we saw what the NDRF does during floods and disasters, what machines they use. NDRF means National Disaster Response Force. We also saw army weapons, met army officers. I still have a photo at home somewhere, though I don’t have it with me right now.

At the end, the chief organizer called all 60 students from our state very early one morning. We reached within two minutes. There were three people there — one IGP and two retired IGs, Inspector General, the highest police post in India. We got to meet them.

They told us one thing that really hit hard: “Always reach before your teachers and elders — because that is the biggest respect.” They weren’t shouting, weren’t criticizing us — they simply told us to reach before the teachers. We had been two minutes late.

That morning, we hoisted the flag, sang the National Anthem, and sat for a one-hour session. At the end, they asked how the journey was going, told us what they do, and we talked with them. Afterward, they told us we were very good — “You’re representing your state well.”

In the afternoon session, in front of 20,000 students, the sir mentioned, “This morning I met the students from Jharkhand. They are so good, so, so good.” We were so happy that they mentioned our state, and us.

Then one chief — I don’t remember if it was the Army Chief or Navy Chief — said we could ask something. And they asked me, “What changes do you need in your life, and what do you see?”

I had no idea what was going on in my mind or my body. I stood up and went to the stage. I got a mic and spoke in front of 20,000 students. I spoke for 2 to 5 minutes, and the chief said, “Very good.” That was a really big thing for me — hearing those words from such a big personality. That day, sir also gave me his personal card with his autograph on it. I still have it.

I keep thinking — how did you forget your potential, man? You got a chance to speak in front of 20,000, 30,000 students. Where are you now? I keep asking — where are you, man? Please remember these things. Remember who you actually were in 9th class, because who you were then is totally different from now. Now you’re an overthinker. Don’t be like that — because your 9th class was a totally different era.

Some friends recorded my video, but it got deleted somehow. I never got a chance to show it to my parents. It’s already very old now. That was a precious thing — at least I could have shown it to them. But no worries.

On the last day of the camping, all six sirs decided we should go and explore some places before leaving, since the camp was already emptying out — everyone was leaving, and we were just waiting for our turn to go too. So while we waited, we went for a walk. A wonderful walk. We saw the windmills and the solar plant again, up close this time. And for the first time in my life, I saw a helipad — a helicopter actually landing right there. That was a wonderful thing too.

After the camping ended, we had 2 or 3 days left before the train, so sir decided we should visit some temples. The first was Somnath Temple, and the whole scene there stayed with me. The second was Dwarkadhish Temple. We also went to Tankara, to Swami Dayanand Saraswati ji’s house, and to Porbandar, where the scene at Mahatma Gandhi ji’s house was something else entirely — seeing it for the first time. We visited all three coastal regions — Somnath, Porbandar, and Dwarka — the western coastal area. I saw the sea for the first time in my life.

I took two photos there — one at Somnath, one at Dwarkadhish. I also bought gifts from those places for my sister, my mother, and my aunt.

In Porbandar, during a night walk, three of us friends were guided on where to go and where not to go. At night we sat beside the sea, watching how it looked in the dark. I was surprised by it. One thing I’d heard was that the ocean returns everything given to it. So we tested it with a bottle — every time we threw it into the ocean, after one wave, it came back to us. Every single time. What I learned: the ocean will never keep even a needle.

We enjoyed it so much, man. So much.

Somnath Mandir is so good. Dwarka Mandir is so good too. Visiting the homes of two great personalities who did so much for our lives — Swami Dayanand Saraswati and Mahatma Gandhi ji — was such a good thing.

Lastly, we saw Dwarka. All of it was my first time.

At the end, I have to tell you about the food. The Gujarati food was so, so good. I totally loved it. In the camp, mornings meant tea and snacks, afternoons meant dal, rice, everything. 20,000 students eating together — I can’t even explain it, man. The food was wonderful. I will never forget this experience in my life. The food in Porbandar, Somnath, and Dwarka was also so good — the jalebi, fafda, khaman were amazing. It’s a good state, I’d say.

After that, we reached Anand station and had some friend-fun — playing Ludo, watching the view from the window, fighting over the window seat. “I will sit, I will sit.”

Wonderful.

At the end, we reached our hometown station, booked a taxi for a few of us, and slowly we all reached home.

So, that’s it from my side.

At the end, we reached our hometown station, booked a taxi for a few of us, and slowly we all reached home.

That trip is six or seven years old now. But somewhere in Pranshala, in front of 20,000 people, there was a version of me that stood up without thinking twice.

Don’t forget.

Subscribe now

Share Alok

I cry.

For some job rejections.

I am a boy.

I cry.

For we are not doing that thing that I would have thought.

I am a boy.

I cry.

For when my Mummy trying English words to cheer me up.

I am a boy.

I cry.

For when my Papa tells the new experience and knowledge that time teachers also failed to explain.

I am a boy.

I cry.

For when my Elder Sisters calls me, "Do you need anything?"

I am a boy.

I cry.

When my parents call me for how the new technology work.

I am a boy.

I cry.

When my old friends calls me randomly.

I am a boy.

I cry.

For when my niece calls me and tells, "It's been a month Mama... come my home with new gifts also."

I am a boy.

I cry.

For when I help the needy person in my life.

I am a boy.

I cry.

For younger cousins call me, "Bhaiya, how to solve this question?"

And sometimes for life advice.

I am a boy.

I cry.

When I share the life lessons I've learned from this new world and this new era with my parents.

Maybe one day, they'll pass those lessons to someone who needs them more than I do.

I am a boy.

I cry.

In critical situations, I think I should get help from them.

But I never do.

I never have the habit of taking help, whatever the situation is.

And suddenly, they call me and ask,

"Are you okay?"

Boys cry too.

Every human has feelings.

But boys control their feelings.

Their emotions.

I cried on a platform.

I cried while passing the road.

I cried while talking to someone.

I cried when no one was in the room.

And I know... I'm not the only one. 🤍

Subscribe now

I am not judging, blaming, or targeting any person, gender, community, region, or government.

Whatever I am writing comes purely from my own observations and experiences.

I am simply sharing the society that I have seen.

7. Anger Has Become Faster Than Understanding

One incident is still fresh in my mind.

I was travelling in an auto. There was only one passenger left, and the office was just about 2 km away.

The driver stopped for 2–3 minutes, waiting for another passenger. Since the passenger was getting late for work, he politely said, “Chalo bhai.”

Suddenly, the driver became very angry.

He started abusing him and even slapped him twice.

I was shocked.

It all happened because of a small situation that could have been solved with a simple conversation.

That day, I kept thinking...

Why are we becoming so aggressive?

Why does a small disagreement turn into anger so quickly?

Sometimes I feel people are carrying so much stress, frustration, or impatience that even a small trigger becomes a big fight.

Maybe we don’t need more reasons to react.

Maybe we need more patience to understand each other.

I often wonder...

Are we slowly losing the ability to stay calm before we choose anger?

8. Humanity Over Convenience

Another thing I have seen is that sometimes helping someone takes only a few seconds, but people still choose not to do it.

I have seen people sitting on seats reserved for senior citizens, pregnant women, women, or specially abled people. Even when the people who actually need those seats arrive, some still don’t stand up.

I remember one incident in the metro.

An elderly person said, “I am 76 years old.”

Still, people around didn’t offer their seat.

That moment stayed with me.

Those seats are reserved for a reason. It is written there because those people need them more than others.

I also remember another incident from 2022 during Holi.

I was travelling in public transport. A man came to me and asked, “Bhaiya, are these children with you?”

I said, “No.”

Then he said, “My wife is pregnant. Can you please give her your seat?”

I immediately stood up.

For me, it wasn’t a big sacrifice. It was just a small act of kindness.

I have done similar things many times in my life.

Sometimes I wonder why these small acts are becoming so rare.

Maybe people are too busy.

Maybe people are too focused on themselves.

Or maybe we have slowly stopped noticing the people around us.

I don’t know the answer.

But I still believe that a small act of kindness can make someone’s difficult day a little easier.

I often ask myself...

If we cannot help someone in such small moments, how will we build a better society together?

Subscribe now

9. The Price of a Piece of Paper

Another thing I have seen is how difficult it can become just to get some basic documents.

For college admissions, scholarships, competitive exams, government jobs, and many other opportunities, we need documents like income certificates, caste certificates, residence certificates, birth certificates, and many others.

In many cases, the official charges are very low.

But in my experience, people sometimes end up paying ₹300, ₹400, or even more before the document is finally ready.

I don’t know where every rupee goes, and I don’t want to blame anyone. I am only sharing what I have personally experienced.

The saddest part is that most people don’t pay because they want to.

They pay because they are scared.

Imagine you studied for years.

You cleared the exam.

You finally got a chance for a college seat, a scholarship, or a job.

Now everything depends on a few documents.

What would you do?

Would you risk losing that opportunity just to save a few hundred rupees?

Most people won’t.

Not because they support the system.

But because they are afraid of losing a chance they may never get again.

Sometimes I feel we also become part of this system, not by choice, but because we don’t want to lose the future we have worked so hard to build.

I often ask myself...

Should getting a basic document become another obstacle between someone’s hard work and their future?

Thank you for reading.

These are not conclusions.

They are simply observations from the society I have seen.

More observations in Part 4.

Leave a comment

I am not judging, blaming, or targeting any person, gender, community, region, or government.

Whatever I am writing here comes purely from my own observations and experiences.

I am simply sharing the society that I have seen.

4. Civic Responsibility and Following Rules Only When Someone Is Watching

One thing I have observed in many cities is how casually people break public rules.

I often see people driving in the wrong direction, even when they know it is unsafe and against the rules. What surprises me more is this: when traffic police are present, almost everyone suddenly follows the rules. But when there is no traffic police, many people immediately start breaking them.

This makes me question something.

Do we truly respect rules, or do we only fear punishment?

I have also noticed that people throw waste almost anywhere without thinking about the consequences. In hilly areas, tourist places, roadsides, and even during travel, people casually throw plastic cups, chip packets, chocolate wrappers, and other garbage wherever they want.

I have especially seen this during train journeys, especially in sleeper or 3-tier compartments. People eat chips, chocolates, or drink tea in paper cups, and after finishing, many casually throw the waste under the seat.

I have also noticed rule-breaking in metros. Even when rules are clearly written, such as reels not being allowed inside the metro, some people still ignore them just for content.

What disappoints me is that many of these people are educated. When you talk to them, they may sound highly knowledgeable and academically successful.

But sometimes I feel many people are highly educated in academics, yet poorly educated in civic responsibility.

Education should not only teach us how to earn or succeed. It should also teach us how to live responsibly in society.

5. Humanity vs Rules

I remember one incident from public transport in another city.

An old lady, around 65 to 70 years old, got into a bus. Her fare was around ₹12, but she only had ₹10 with her.

She politely requested the conductor to let her travel and asked for a little understanding.

But because of just ₹2, the conductor stopped the bus and made her get down.

Just because of ₹2.

After she got down, many passengers started arguing with the conductor and speaking up for her.

But by then, it was already too late. The bus had moved on, and nothing could be changed.

That incident stayed with me.

Rules are important, I understand that. Systems need rules to function.

But sometimes I wonder, where does rule end and humanity begin?

Can compassion really become smaller than ₹2?

6. Empathy in Public Spaces

Another thing I have observed is how empathy feels like it is slowly decreasing.

I have seen many people sitting in reserved seats meant for women, senior citizens, pregnant women, or specially abled people.

Even when the people who actually need those seats arrive, some still hesitate to stand up.

I remember one incident in the metro where an elderly person said, “I am 76 years old,” yet people around still did not move.

That made me think deeply.

Those seats are reserved for a reason. Their category is written there because those people genuinely need that support.

Sometimes I wonder why such small acts of kindness feel rare.

I also remember an incident from 2022 during Holi.

I was sitting in public transport. A man came near me and asked, “Bhaiya, are these children with you?” referring to the children sitting beside me.

I said no.

Then he said, “My wife is pregnant. Please give the seat.”

I immediately stood up and gave my seat to her.

For me, it felt natural.

I have done similar small things many times in life.

That is why I keep asking myself: why is empathy decreasing?

I feel there may be many reasons.

Maybe people are becoming more self-focused. Maybe they are too busy, too stressed, or too absorbed in their own world to notice what is happening around them.

I also feel modern content and fast-paced lifestyles sometimes promote extreme self-focus, where people prioritize themselves so much that they forget kindness toward others.

Self-growth is important.

But not at the cost of losing humanity.

Sometimes I feel society does not become better only through development, education, or technology.

It becomes better when people still choose kindness, empathy, and responsibility, even in small everyday moments.

More observations in Part 3.

Subscribe now

This is one of them.

People often say, “Be careful with strangers.”
Yes, sometimes strangers can be rude or hurtful.

But not all strangers are bad.

Some strangers come into your life for only a few minutes, yet their kindness stays with you forever.

This is the story of some strangers I may never meet again, but I will never forget.

At that time, I was preparing for my JEE exam, back in my 12th standard.

At that time, I was living alone in a city nearly 350 kilometers away from my home.

One day, the entire city was flooded. Water was everywhere. Roads had disappeared. The whole city felt like it had stopped.

Two days were left before the application deadline.

That was when I realized something terrifying.

My payment had not been submitted.

I had somehow missed it.

If I didn’t complete it before the deadline, I could lose an important opportunity related to my JEE journey.

My train was at 11 PM.

But by 7 or 8 in the evening, the city was still drowning in water.

Two days earlier, I had told my parents that the water would probably go away soon and that I would come home after that.

But it didn’t.

That evening, I understood one thing clearly:

I had to leave.

So I packed my bag, took my phone, a power bank, and a torch.

And then I stepped outside.

Alone.

It was dark.

Water everywhere.

No proper road visible.

I kept walking.

Walking.

Walking.

My bag was on my head so it wouldn’t get wet. I held the power bank and torch carefully because they were my only source of light.

After walking for around 10 to 20 minutes, I reached a turn where I had to go left.

That was when fear truly hit me.

The water had reached my shoulders.

I realized that if I moved further, the water level could reach my neck... maybe even my mouth.

For a moment, I froze.

How do you move forward when you cannot even see the road?

Then I saw a group of people.

Around seven people.

They were crossing together, holding each other’s hands in a chain so nobody would lose balance in the water.

I saw them.

But I didn’t ask for help.

Then one person noticed me.

He told his group,

“Wait. One person is coming alone. He’s alone. We should wait for him.”

They stopped.

For me.

I still remember those words.

“Brother, come fast. We are waiting for you.”

I never expected that.

They were strangers.

Complete strangers.

Yet they waited.

I joined them.

We held hands and started moving together.

There were two or three torches in the dark night.

Above us was the moon.

Its reflection on the floodwater looked strangely beautiful, even in such a frightening moment.

Slowly, we moved forward.

Step by step.

The water rose till our necks, almost touching the chin.

Still, we kept going.

Carefully.

Patiently.

Together.

After some time, we finally saw the railway track.

That railway track felt like hope.

We followed it.

And eventually, I reached my station.

I didn’t know them.

They didn’t know me.

Yet they waited for me because they saw one person struggling alone.

Their help is something I can never forget.

Never.

Never.

Never.

Maybe we will never meet again.

It was only a 30-minute or one-hour journey together.

But sometimes, life gives you people for a very short time, and they leave a permanent mark on your heart.

I will always be grateful.

Sometimes, strangers do not feel like strangers.

Sometimes, they feel like us.

That night, they were not “them.”

They were “us.”

Subscribe now

I am not judging, blaming, or targeting any person, gender, community, region, or government.

Whatever I am writing here comes purely from my own observations and experiences.

I am simply sharing the society that I have seen.

1. Judging Normal Interaction

One thing I have noticed is how quickly society judges normal interactions between boys and girls.

If a girl talks to a boy, shakes hands, or gives a simple hug, people often start judging her character and creating stories around her.

At the same time, if a boy talks to girls, shakes hands, or interacts freely, society also starts labeling him and making assumptions.

Why?

Why can’t a normal conversation, friendship, handshake, or simple hug just remain what it is, a normal human interaction?

Why do we always feel the need to attach unnecessary meaning to it?

2. Assuming Relationships Without Context

I have also seen how quickly people assume relationships without knowing the actual story.

If a girl is walking, traveling, or riding with a boy, society often immediately says, “He must be her boyfriend,” or “How lucky he is.”

But how do we know that?

He could be her brother, cousin, friend, colleague, or relative.

The same happens when a boy is with a girl.

People quickly assume she must be his girlfriend.

But she could be his sister, mother, cousin, friend, aunt, colleague, or relative.

Why are we so quick to assume and so slow to understand?

Not every bond between a boy and a girl has to be romantic.

3. Language-Based Judgment

Another thing I have personally observed is language-based judgment.

In India, if someone speaks fluent or advanced English, society often assumes that person is highly educated, smart, or superior.

But if someone mainly speaks Hindi or another regional language, many people quickly assume they are less educated or less capable.

I do not think this is right.

Language is just a medium of communication, not a measure of intelligence, wisdom, or human worth.

I personally experienced this when I stayed in South India for some months. Since I am from North India, I did not know the local language.

I still remember one incident in a shop.

The shopkeeper was talking normally with other customers in the local language. But when I tried to buy something, things felt different.

I told him 5 to 10 times that I wanted a particular product, but he kept ignoring me.

That moment made me feel really bad.

That incident stayed with me.

Knowing English does not automatically make someone wise, and not knowing English does not make someone less intelligent.

It made me wonder, when did language become a tool to measure respect?

A language can tell you where someone is from.

It should never decide how much respect they deserve.

Sometimes I wonder if our biggest problem as a society is this:

We judge too fast and understand too late.

More observations in Part 2.

Share

Today, I want to write about someone who means a lot to me.

He is my senior, but honestly, I see him more as an elder brother.

He has supported me a lot, more than words can explain. In office life, especially when you are new, finding someone who genuinely guides you without making you feel small is rare. He was one of those people for me.

He helped me in ways he probably doesn’t even realize.

Around two months ago, he bought a new bike.

That day, casually, I told him,

“Sir, one day I also want to ride your bike.”

It was such a small sentence.

No emotional weight.

No special meaning.

Just a random wish spoken in passing.

And then life moved on.

Work happened. Days passed. Conversations changed.

I completely forgot about that sentence.

But he didn’t.

Today was his last day before leaving for another city.

Even writing that feels heavy.

We were near the office, and after some time he told me,

“I have some work in this area. You go home, I’ll come later.”

I said,

“No, no… why would I leave?”

It felt strange.

Why should I go alone?

But he insisted.

Again and again.

Finally, because he kept insisting, I left.

At that moment, I still didn’t understand anything.

Only after reaching my room did it hit me.

He had no work.

None.

He remembered one small sentence I had spoken two months ago.

He remembered that I wanted to ride his bike.

So he intentionally left the bike for me.

For me.

So I could ride it alone.

And that realization broke something inside me.

Not because of the bike.

The bike was never the point.

The point was this:

He remembered.

In a world where people forget promises made yesterday, he remembered a random wish spoken two months ago.

That hit me deeply.

What made it even heavier was knowing his own life is not easy.

I know he carries his own struggles.

Mental struggles. Personal struggles.

I know something hurts inside him too.

But he rarely speaks about it.

He keeps going.

He keeps helping.

He keeps showing up for others.

And maybe that’s what moved me the most.

Even while carrying his own pain, he still made space to care for someone else.

When it was time to say goodbye, I didn’t cry in front of him.

I controlled myself.

Why?

Because I didn’t want him to feel burdened.

I didn’t want him to think,

“Oh no, now he is crying because of me.”

So I stayed normal.

I smiled.

I said goodbye.

But sometimes emotions are like rain clouds.

You can hold them for some time.

Not forever.

While walking back to my room, I broke.

I cried on the road.

I cried because I felt something rare.

Support.

Care.

Effort.

Not loud care.

Not dramatic care.

The quiet kind.

The kind that remembers small things.

The kind that notices.

The kind that says, without words:

“I listened when you spoke.”

“You mattered enough for me to remember.”

And maybe that’s one of the purest forms of love.

Not grand gestures.

Not expensive gifts.

Just remembering small things about someone.

A random wish.

A casual sentence.

A tiny desire.

And fulfilling it.

That kind of kindness stays.

I don’t know where life will take both of us.

Cities change.

People move.

Roles change.

Distance grows.

But one thing I know for sure:

I will never forget this.

Never.

Because today I learned something beautiful.

Sometimes the deepest love is hidden in the smallest acts.

And sometimes…

A bike ride is never just a bike ride.

Subscribe

Share

It was an 8-hour journey, and I had an RAC seat. That meant I had to share my seat with a stranger for the entire journey.

I knew someone would come.
I just didn’t know that person would leave such a deep impact on my life.

After some time, he arrived.

He looked calm, simple, and polite.

He asked, “Is this your seat?”
I replied, “Yes… I think it’s yours too.”
He smiled and sat beside me.

At that time, my mind was heavy.

I was sitting there physically, but mentally I was carrying stress, rejection, overthinking, and many unanswered questions.

After some time, he started a conversation.

“Where are you going?”

I told him I was going for an exam.

We spoke casually for around 15 minutes.

Then he said something unexpected.

“If you don’t mind, can I say something? I observed you, not judged you. I feel like you’re going through something.”

That sentence shook me.

How did he know?

I had not said anything.
I was just silent.

Still, he noticed.

So I opened up.

I told him about my interview struggles.

How I was getting rejected repeatedly.
Sometimes in early rounds.
Sometimes in the final round.

And the confusing part was that many interviewers told me:

“Your logic is good.”
“You think well.”
“You solve problems instantly.”

Still, the result was rejection.

I told him, “I don’t understand what is missing.”

He listened patiently.

Then he said:

“Don’t worry. This is just a phase.”

Later, I found out he was also from the IT industry.

But what impressed me more was how he lived his life.

He told me he was managing:

• His company work

• His passion for music

• His own band with 10 singers and musicians

• His wife and children

• His parents

I was genuinely surprised.

I asked him, “How do you manage all this?”

He smiled.

“You’ll learn one day. It’s not too hard. Once you learn to handle pressure, life becomes manageable.”

Then he gave me advice I still remember.

Practice meditation.

He said it would calm my mind and help me feel peace.

Then he spoke about communication skills.

At first, I thought he meant English.

But he corrected me.

“Communication skills don’t mean knowing English, Hindi, or any language.”

He continued:

“Communication means knowing what to say, when to say it, and how to say it.”

That changed my perspective.

He explained that communication is:

• How you listen

• How you respond

• How you influence

• How you behave with people

• How human you remain under pressure

Everyone knows a language.

Very few know how to truly communicate.

But what touched me most was not only his words.

It was his kindness.

At one point, he insisted:

“Please eat something, yaar.”

I said no at first.

But he kept insisting with warmth.

Finally, I took a bite of one of his sweets.

Such a small gesture.
Yet it felt deeply human.

Later, when it was time to sleep, we both struggled because RAC seats are uncomfortable.

There wasn’t enough space.

I remember him even requesting the TTE for an extra seat so we could rest better.

Even while sleeping, he tried to give me as much space as possible.

That stayed with me.

In a crowded train, where most people only think about their own comfort, he was still thinking about mine.

That says everything about who he was.

We kept talking for hours.

Some conversations with strangers feel more genuine than conversations with people you’ve known for years.

This was one of them.

When my destination arrived, I gathered my bag.

I looked at him and simply said:

“Thank you, sir.”

Then I left for my exam.

That was it.

No dramatic ending.
No long goodbye.

Just an ordinary train station.

But an unforgettable human connection.

Even today, I think about him with deep respect.

I have met many people in life.

But he remains one of those rare people I will always remember.

A truly genuine person.

Sometimes life sends teachers without any introduction.

No classroom.
No degree.
No formal lesson.

Just a stranger sitting beside you on a train.

And somehow, they leave you with wisdom you carry for years.

Sometimes people enter your life for only a few hours…

and still change something inside you forever.

I will always be thankful for that journey.

And for that man.

Because that day, a stranger didn’t just talk to me.

He saw me.

Subscribe now

Do you know something?

You are my best friend.

Not just because you are my mother.

You are my best friend because you are a genuinely good human being.

Since childhood, I have watched you closely.

I have seen people come to you for help, advice, support, and solutions. No matter what you were doing, you always tried to help them. That is something I have admired all my life.

As I grow older, I understand this more deeply.

Responsibility is heavy. When people come to you for guidance, it means they trust you. They see strength in you. They believe you can carry something they cannot carry alone.

And that is who you have always been.

I love you so much, Mummy.

I still remember my school days.

Every morning, around 4 or 5 a.m., while everyone was sleeping, you were already awake. Preparing breakfast. Packing lunch. Getting me and my sisters ready for school.

Every single day.

At that age, I did not fully understand your effort.

But I noticed things.

I saw some students come to school without lunch, and slowly I realized something: what you did for us every day was not ordinary.

It was love in action.

You took care of me, my sisters, Papa, and the entire family.

And somehow, you kept going.

I was naughty too.

Sometimes when I made mistakes, you punished me by not talking to me. That silence hurt me more than any scolding. It felt like something important was missing from my life.

I still remember class 9.

Sometimes I did not listen to you. Sometimes I ignored your words. You scolded me, and yes, sometimes you even beat me for my naughty behavior.

Back then, I only saw strictness.

Today, I see love.

You were preparing me for life.

One thing I want to thank you for is something I understood much later.

During school days, sometimes I felt irritated with you.

You never let me sleep too long.

Around 6 or 7 in the morning, you would wake me up, no matter how much I wanted to stay in bed. At that time, I felt annoyed. I used to think, *Why so early?*

As a child, I could not understand it.

Today, I do.

Now I feel thankful.

Because of you, waking up early became part of my nature.

Even today, whenever I wake up early to do something productive, I remember you.

I realize this habit did not come automatically.

You built it in me.

Through discipline.

Through consistency.

Through care.

Back then, it felt like strictness.

Today, it feels like a blessing.

Thank you for making me an early riser.

One thing I admire deeply about you is your confidence.

I have seen you talk to anyone without fear. You speak with courage and clarity.

That inspires me a lot.

Sometimes I feel scared to talk to people. Sometimes I doubt myself.

Then I think of you.

And I feel stronger.

I still feel that in many ways, you are better than me.

And I like that.

Not because I feel small.

But because I feel inspired.

I look at your patience, strength, courage, and your ability to handle people, and I learn.

I learn from you every day.

One memory always stays with me.

During summer vacations, you alone managed three children and took us to our grandparents’ house. You handled everything by yourself. Then, when vacation ended, Papa came and all of us returned home.

As a child, I enjoyed those trips.

As an adult, I understand your strength.

Managing three children alone is not easy.

But you did it.

Quietly. Naturally. Without complaint.

That is who you are.

I also love talking with you.

Maybe more than anything else.

Because whenever I talk to you, your experience touches me deeply.

Your words carry wisdom that books cannot teach.

There is one more thing I can never forget.

Whenever I feel low, whenever I have fever, pain, stress, or I am just not feeling okay, you are always there for me.

The way you take care of me is beyond words.

You care for me like no one else can.

And one thing I love the most is our regular calls.

They are not long conversations.

You don’t talk about complicated things.

You just ask simple questions.

“How are you?”

“Are you doing well?”

“Did you eat food?”

“Everything okay?”

That’s it.

But somehow, those simple questions mean everything to me.

Because behind those words, I feel your love.

I feel your care.

I feel home.

Sometimes people think love needs big words or big gestures.

I don’t think so.

Sometimes love is just a mother asking:

**“Khana khaya?”**

And honestly, that is enough.

That is everything.

There is one more thing adulthood has taught me.

It is never a shame to learn anything at any age.

These days, sometimes our roles switch.

You taught me how to walk, speak, behave, and live.

And now, sometimes I get to teach you.

I teach you small things about technology.

How to use mobile properly.

How to put a status on WhatsApp.

How to use Facebook.

How to share a link.

How to type and chat.

And every time that happens, I smile.

Because life feels beautiful in those moments.

As I am slowly growing and understanding adulthood, I realize something important.

Responsibility to support the people who once supported us.

Responsibility to teach those who want to learn.

Just like you taught me with patience, I want to teach others with patience too.

And if I can help someone learn something, I will always try.

Maybe that is something I learned from you.

You are not just someone in my life.

You are everything for me.

A mother.

A teacher.

A protector.

A guide.

A friend.

There are some people whose value cannot be measured.

For me, you are one of them.

Happy birthday, Mummy.

You are one of the strongest people I know.

And forever, one of my greatest inspirations.

I love you Mummy.

Share

You shout at me sometimes.

I get angry.

I forget

that anger is just love

with nowhere to go.

You are smarter than me.

Papa says it too.

Everyone knows it.

But you never made me feel small.

Not once.

Every project in school —

the big ones, the small ones —

you made them all.

I got the credit.

In art, I was zero.

You were everything.

You never said a word.

You faced things

I never had to.

You sacrificed

so I wouldn't know

what sacrifice feels like.

All you ever wanted

was for your brother

to experience

only the good things.

You send money

without asking.

Without waiting

for me to say

I need it.

You already know.

On occasions,

no one calls.

But you do.

Always you.

I was in the hospital once.

Your last exam was that day.

You still made food.

You still sent it.

I cried after.

Not from pain —

from the weight

of being loved like that.

On Raksha Bandhan,

I bought you jhumkas.

Under a hundred rupees.

You lit up like I had given you the world.

That moment —

that is the most happiest thing for me.

Still.

It was never about the money.

It was always about the love.

We both knew that.

After my mother,

you are the most caring person

in my life.

No one can beat that.

No one.

I still remember every date.

Every moment.

Every time you were there

when no one else was.

Sometimes I cry —

asking myself

why you gave so much.

Why so many sacrifices.

What did I do

to deserve a sister like you.

But you never made me feel that.

Not once.

Didi,

you are not just a word.

You are the one.

You have always been

the one.

And one day —

I will make you proud.

Not just trying.

Done.

This is my promise.

Yes, you.

When someone wants to share their pain —

please listen.

Just listen.

You have no idea how long they carried it.

How many nights they held it alone.

How much courage it took to finally say the words.

Don't interrupt.

Don't fix.

Just listen.

Someone shared their story with me recently.

I won't say who.

But after listening, I sat in silence for a long time.

I was deeply saddened.

What they had been through — it was so terrible,

words cannot even describe it.

Because I realized — people are going through so much.

Far more than their faces show.

Far more than their words ever reveal.

Calling my family is not something I do sometimes.

It is my daily habit. My routine.

My parents. My siblings. My younger ones. My elders.

The people I love most in this world.

Just to ask — how are you? Are you okay?

My mother sometimes opens up.

But my father — never.

Not once has he said "I am struggling."

That is just who he is.

But I call anyway.

Because even without words —

he knows someone called.

Someone asked.

Someone still cares.

And that is enough.

We get so busy.

We assume the people we love are fine

because they look fine.

Because they smiled last time.

Because they didn't say anything.

But silence is not always peace.

Sometimes silence is someone

quietly waiting for you to ask.

So ask.

Call them tonight.

Not tomorrow.

Tonight.

And if anyone reaches out to you —

a call, a message, even just a "hey" —

please respond.

Don't leave it for later.

Don't assume they are fine.

That small moment of reaching out

might be the biggest thing

they did all day.

You don't know what that one call

might mean to someone

on the other side.

Talk to your loved ones.

Listen to them.

You have no idea how much they are going through.

Subscribe

Comment

And honestly? Most people are wonderful. They talk gently, they help you without thinking twice, they treat a stranger like a human being. I love those people. I remember them.

But sometimes you meet someone who is just... unnecessarily rude. To a stranger. For no reason. And it makes you think.

Not angry. Just thoughtful.

Because nobody is asking you to be perfect. Nobody is asking you to be happy all the time. But talking nicely? Respecting the person in front of you? That's just a choice. A small one. Every single day.

Respecting people doesn't make you smaller. Being soft doesn't make you weak.

If anything — it takes more courage to stay kind when the world isn't always kind back.

So just — do good. Talk gently. Be the smile someone didn't see coming.

Spread kindness. Not because the world deserves it. But because you do. 🙏

Subscribe

Message me

Subscribe

A 10-year-old boy was playing cricket under the lights. I couldn't take my eyes off him. His footwork, timing, speed, and confidence were remarkable. For his age, he looked unstoppable.

A 32-year-old man came and sat beside me. Watching the boy, he smiled and said, "What a shot! I used to play like that too."

As the conversation unfolded, I learned that he had once been a national-level hockey player. Life had taken him in different directions, and his sporting journey had slowly faded into memories.

Soon, the boy's parents joined us. They shared their own stories of dreams, sacrifices, and the roads they had once hoped to travel. Listening to them, I realized that behind every child playing freely in a park, there are parents who have quietly given up something for their future.

The former athlete eventually stood up and said, "Let me bowl to him."

The boy accepted the challenge.

For the next few minutes, generations met on a cricket pitch. Experience bowled. Youth batted. Laughter echoed through the night.

Watching them, I felt something deeper than nostalgia. I saw unfinished dreams, sacrifices, compromises, and hope, all sharing the same small patch of ground.

Before leaving, the man smiled and said:

"Milkar achha laga bhai aapse."

Sometimes, the most meaningful conversations happen with strangers.

And sometimes, a park at 11 PM becomes a reminder that dreams never really disappear. They simply change hands.

Subscribe

Share

Comment

I forgot how to be happy.

Who were those people

who called me cheerful?

I don't find them anymore.

I used to laugh at the teacher's scolding

and make everyone else laugh too.

Now I've forgotten how to laugh at all.

One holiday was enough to make us happy then.

But in this age, we cry over everything.

One rupee was enough to feel rich.

Today, a thousand in the pocket

and still we are empty.

Even sadness looked at me and said —

*brother, smile a little.*

Because grief, over time,

hollows a person out

and leaves them weak.

Subscribe

Comment

Subscribe now

Beginnings are uncomfortable. And that's why I'm starting anyway.

I've been thinking about writing for a long time. Not because I have all the answers — but because I have too many questions I can't keep inside my head anymore. So here I am:

1. Why this, why now

I'm a developer who thinks too much and feels even more. I've spent years reading about self-awareness, patterns, and the gap between knowing yourself and actually changing. Somewhere in that loop, I realized I had things worth saying out loud. This is me finally saying them.

2. What kind of community are you looking to build here

Not a self-help corner. Not a motivation feed. Just a space where honest, uncomfortable, human thoughts get a home. If you've ever understood something about yourself but still couldn't change it — you'll feel at home here.

3. What you can expect here

No fixed posting days. I write when something is actually worth saying — not to fill a calendar. Everything is free. No paid tier, no paywalls. Just honest writing, whenever it’s ready.

4. A small ask

If something here makes you stop and think — share it. Not for the algorithm. Just because real words deserve real people.

5. One last thing

There’s no perfect way to start. I’ve rewritten this first post in my head a hundred times. At some point you just hit publish and see what happens.

If this resonated — even a little — subscribe. It’s free. Always will be.