The Lone Wolf Within Me: Strength in Solitude

“The Lone Wolf Within Me: Strength in Solitude“

Among the many creatures that roam the earth, the wolf has always intrigued me. Not the leader of the pack, but the lone wolf—independent, resilient, and unwavering in its pursuit of survival. If I were to compare myself to any animal, it would undoubtedly be this solitary wanderer, embracing solitude not as a burden, but as a strength.

The Strength of Solitude

A lone wolf does not rely on a pack for survival. It learns to navigate the wilderness with sharp instincts, perseverance, and an unyielding will. In many ways, my journey has mirrored this. Life has presented its fair share of challenges, and often, I have found myself walking a path that few choose to tread. Yet, like the lone wolf, I have always trusted my ability to adapt and thrive.

Independence has been my greatest asset. Whether in my professional journey as an educator or in personal endeavours, I have never shied away from making decisions that set me apart. Much like the wolf, I have charted my own course, learning to trust my instincts and standing firm in my convictions, even when the road ahead seemed uncertain.

A Journey of Purpose

The lone wolf may walk alone, but it does not wander aimlessly. Every step is deliberate, every decision weighed with precision. My path has been one of purpose—shaping minds, guiding institutions, and sharing knowledge through writing. In a world that often seeks conformity, I have always found comfort in carving my own niche.

While solitude is often misunderstood as loneliness, for me, it has been a space for reflection and creativity. My work, my music, and my writing have been companions on this journey, providing me with a sense of fulfilment that no external validation could ever replace.

The Silent Howl: A Heart That Listens

Yet, even the lone wolf is not devoid of emotion. There are moments when the world moves too fast, when connections feel fleeting, and when the silence of one’s thoughts grows louder than the noise of the outside world. But just as the wolf finds comfort in the moonlit night, I find mine in the warmth of my family, the laughter of my grandkids, and the ever-present melody of music that soothes my soul.

Leaving a Legacy, One Step at a Time

A lone wolf does not seek recognition, yet its presence leaves an undeniable impact. I, too, hope to leave my footprints behind—not through grand gestures, but through the knowledge I have imparted, the values I have upheld, and the words I continue to write.

Perhaps I was never meant to be part of the crowd. Perhaps my journey was always meant to be one of quiet resilience, of silent victories, and of a spirit that refuses to fade. And if that is my fate, I embrace it wholeheartedly—with my head held high, my heart unwavering, and my journey still unfolding.

For the lone wolf may walk alone, but its spirit remains untamed.

A Letter to My Centenarian Self: A Century of Reflections”

“A Letter to My Centenarian Self: A Century of Reflections”

Dear Prashant,

If this letter reaches you, it means you have defied time, lived through an entire century, and have gathered wisdom that few are privileged to possess. What a journey it must have been—of triumphs and tribulations, of laughter and tears, of love and loss, all woven into the rich tapestry of your existence.

As I write to you from my sixties, I wonder—do you still have that boundless energy that once defied stereotypes? Have you managed to retain the spark that refused to be dimmed by the world’s perceptions of age? I hope you still cycle, still sing your favourite hymns and bhajans, still engage in deep philosophical discourses, and, most importantly, still write.

Do you remember the days when you applied for assignments, only to be met with scepticism about your age? Did the world eventually recognise that experience is not a burden but a beacon? I hope that by now, your wisdom has found its due place, that your words have left an indelible mark on education, literature, and philosophy.

What of your Grand children? The little ones who once clung to your hand—do they now sit by your side as  grown people, sharing stories of their own adventures? Have they inherited your love for music, your passion for knowledge, and your unwavering resilience? If they ever read this letter, tell them that their grandfather always believed in the power of dreams, that no mountain is too high, and that kindness is the greatest legacy one can leave behind.

And what of Agnes? The woman who walked beside you through life’s storms and sunshine—how has time treated both of you? I hope your love story has only deepened, that she still reads to you in the evenings, and that her books continue to inspire generations.

A century of life must have given you perspectives that I cannot yet fathom. Have you finally understood the mysteries of the universe that once intrigued you as a student of physics? Have you unraveled the divine melodies that echoed in your heart whenever you played the harmonium? More importantly, have you found the answers to the questions that haunted your younger self?

I do not know what the world looks like in your time. Is it a place of peace, or has humanity still not learned from its past? Have the stars remained your silent companions on sleepless nights? Does the monsoon still bring the same fragrance of nostalgia that it did in my youth?

Above all, dear Prashant, I hope you have lived a life that you are proud of. I hope you have forgiven those who wronged you, embraced those who loved you, and left behind a legacy that echoes beyond time. If this letter finds you weary, let it remind you of the fire that once burned bright within you. And if, by some miracle, you can send a word back through time, let me know—was it all worth it?

With admiration and hope,
Your 64-year-old self

Retail Therapy Gone Wild: A Shopping Spree to Remember!

“Retail Therapy Gone Wild: A Shopping Spree to Remember!”

I have never considered myself a shopaholic. In fact, I have always prided myself on my Spartan approach to material possessions. But put me in the right circumstances—say, armed with a credit card, a dangerously optimistic outlook, and an unsupervised afternoon—and suddenly, I become the undisputed champion of impulsive purchases.

Now, if I were to go on a shopping spree, I wouldn’t waste my time in mundane places like supermarkets or soulless department stores. No, no! I would aim for an experience so unhinged that even my wallet would beg for mercy.

1. The Bookstore Black Hole

First stop: the bookstore. Because nothing screams “practical spending” like buying twenty books when I still have fifty unread ones at home. I would stroll in with the noble intention of buying just one classic, only to leave with a collection of obscure philosophical essays, a cookbook for a cuisine I have no intention of trying, and a biography of a historical figure whose name I can’t even pronounce. Somewhere in the mix, I’d grab a diary—because, surely, this is the year I finally start journaling.

2. The Tech Wonderland

Next, I’d venture into the dazzling world of gadgets and electronics. I’d be drawn to a high-tech smart pen, which promises to transcribe my thoughts directly onto my phone. Unfortunately, it can’t fix my terrible handwriting, nor can it interpret my incoherent scribbles. I would also be mesmerised by the latest smart toaster—because clearly, the regular toaster isn’t futuristic enough. This one syncs with my phone, ensuring I receive real-time updates on my bread’s emotional journey from white to golden brown.

3. The Fashion Disaster Zone

Then, feeling adventurous, I’d waltz into a clothing store. This is where delusion takes centre stage. I would convince myself that neon yellow trousers are a bold fashion statement rather than an optical assault on innocent bystanders. I’d pick up a trendy hat, only to realise later that it makes me look like an eccentric Victorian detective. And let’s not forget the shoes—because nothing screams “wise investment” like a pair of stilettos I have no balance for.

4. The Home Décor Maze

Having already blown through most of my budget, I’d still find myself inexplicably drawn to a home décor store. Here, I’d justify purchasing a ridiculously oversized clock because it “adds character” to my living room, even though it takes up half the wall. A scented candle with an absurd name like “Mystical Alpine Serenity” would also make its way into my basket. It would promise the fresh scent of a Swiss mountaintop at sunrise, but in reality, it would smell like someone spilled a bottle of air freshener in a forest fire.

5. The Grocery Store Overindulgence

Finally, I’d convince myself that a quick stop at the grocery store would be sensible. This would, of course, spiral into chaos. I’d buy exotic cheeses that require an advanced degree in dairy sciences to appreciate. I’d grab a tub of organic, ethically sourced, fair-trade hummus that costs as much as a small car. And, because I lack all self-restraint, I’d be bamboozled by the bakery aisle, walking out with enough bread to single-handedly fund a village feast.

The Aftermath

At the end of my spree, I’d return home with a car full of things I don’t need, a bank account gasping for air, and a vague sense of regret wrapped in the flimsy comfort of retail euphoria. I’d stare at my new treasures, wondering how I managed to lose control so spectacularly, all while reassuring myself that “everything was on sale”—which, of course, justifies everything.

Would I do it again? Absolutely. But next time, I might bring along a financially responsible friend to stop me from purchasing a life-sized statue of a medieval knight. Or not.

A Middle Name: More Than Just a Label?

A Middle Name: More Than Just a Label?

Names are fascinating, aren’t they? They serve as our identity, whisper tales of ancestry, and often carry the weight of tradition, culture, and even aspirations. My name, Prashant Kumar Lal, is no exception. But today, I turn the spotlight on my middle name—Kumar—a seemingly simple yet deeply embedded part of my identity.

What’s in a Middle Name?

In many cultures, middle names are more than just an additional syllable in a passport or a bank document. They can be a family legacy, a symbol of status, or a tribute to an ancestor. In India, particularly, ‘Kumar’ is one of the most common middle names, used across states, languages, and communities.

For some, it signifies youth or a princely disposition—rooted in Sanskrit, where Kumara means ‘boy’ or ‘prince’. In ancient Hindu traditions, Lord Kartikeya, the warrior son of Shiva and Parvati, is often referred to as Kumar—a symbol of strength and wisdom. Over time, the name transcended religious boundaries and became a widely accepted marker of respectability.

The Evolution of ‘Kumar’ in My Life

As a child, I didn’t ponder much on the significance of my middle name. It was just there, sandwiched between my first and last names. But over time, I began to notice its omnipresence—classmates, colleagues, even strangers carried the same middle name. Did it make me less unique? Or did it bind me to something larger, a shared cultural heritage?

While my first name, Prashant, signifies peace and calm, Kumar adds a dynamic contrast—youthfulness, vibrance, and perhaps an eternal student-like curiosity. Together, they form a blend of serenity and energy, a balance that I strive to maintain in life.

A Marker of Tradition or a Mere Formality?

The role of middle names varies across the world. In Western traditions, they often serve as a connection to a grandparent or a historical figure. In some cases, they are used to distinguish between people with common first and last names. In contrast, Indian names—especially those with Kumar—seem to function more as a cultural bridge than a unique identifier.

In official paperwork, the middle name is sometimes overlooked, yet in personal spaces, it holds its own charm. It serves as a silent witness to my roots, linking me to generations before me. I could have been just Prashant Lal, but somehow, Prashant Kumar Lal carries a rhythm, a completeness that feels just right.

Would I Ever Change It?

Not a chance! Middle names may not always be in the limelight, but they subtly shape who we are. Whether as a mark of tradition, a phonetic enhancement, or an ancestral gift, they add a hidden depth to our identity. Kumar is not just an extra syllable in my name—it’s a whisper of history, a nod to heritage, and a reminder that names, like people, carry stories within them.

So, what does your middle name mean to you?

The Last Lesson: Embracing the Unending School of Life

The Last Lesson: Embracing the Unending School of Life

Life, in its infinite wisdom, never ceases to educate us. Just when we think we have mastered a subject, it introduces a new chapter, sometimes with a gentle whisper and at other times with an unceremonious jolt. The most recent lesson I learned is a testament to this relentless curriculum—the realisation that age and experience do not grant immunity from rejection, nor do they guarantee unwavering relevance in a world obsessed with novelty.

The Bitter Pill of Relevance

Having spent decades in the field of education, training minds, shaping institutions, and refining the art of administration, one would assume that expertise accumulated over time would be an asset in perpetuity. Yet, the world operates differently. It often values fresh faces over seasoned hands, innovation over wisdom, and technology over tradition. The challenge, then, is not to mourn the past but to evolve with the present.

It is a humbling truth—no matter how well-read, well-travelled, or well-experienced one is, one must constantly prove one’s worth in an ever-changing world. The market does not owe us anything for our past contributions; it merely acknowledges what we bring to the table today.

The Lesson Beyond the Pain

This realisation could easily lead to despair, but embedded within it is a powerful call to action. Adaptability is not a skill reserved for the young; it is the secret to lifelong relevance. Instead of viewing rejection as a reflection of inadequacy, I now see it as an invitation to reinvent myself. If doors do not open, perhaps it is time to build new ones.

This lesson has reinforced a deeper understanding: success is not about resting on laurels but about continuously planting new seeds. The world may not always validate our efforts immediately, but perseverance has a way of turning silent struggles into roaring triumphs.

The School of Life Never Closes

There is a peculiar beauty in knowing that learning never ends. Every rejection is a redirection, every setback a setup for a comeback, and every closed door a nudge towards a path not yet explored. The willingness to remain a student, despite years of teaching, is the only way to truly grow.

So, as I sit with this newfound lesson, I embrace the uncertainty ahead. The school of life has no graduation day, and perhaps, that is its greatest gift.

Ash Wednesday: A Mark of Mortality and a Call to Grace

Ash Wednesday: A Mark of Mortality and a Call to Grace

The world bustles on, chasing ambitions, indulgences, and fleeting joys, yet once a year, a quiet solemnity descends upon millions. A cross of ash smudged upon the forehead, whispered prayers of repentance, and a deep contemplation of life’s transient nature—this is Ash Wednesday, the gateway to the sacred season of Lent.

Origins and Biblical Significance

Ash Wednesday traces its roots to early Christian traditions, though the use of ashes as a symbol of penitence is far older. In the Old Testament, ashes signified mourning, repentance, and human frailty. Job, in his suffering, lamented:
“Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes.” (Job 42:6)

Similarly, Daniel, in his prayers for the people of Israel, fasted and pleaded with God “in sackcloth and ashes” (Daniel 9:3). The idea that humans are but dust and to dust they shall return (Genesis 3:19) forms the cornerstone of Ash Wednesday’s message.

By the 11th century, the practice of marking the faithful with ashes became formalised in the Western Church. Today, it remains a defining moment in Christian liturgical practice.

The Ceremony and its Meaning

On Ash Wednesday, churches worldwide observe a special service where priests apply ashes to the foreheads of worshippers, often accompanied by the words:
“Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

These ashes, derived from the burnt palm leaves of the previous year’s Palm Sunday, hold deep significance. Palm Sunday celebrates Christ’s triumphant entry into Jerusalem, where people greeted Him with palm branches, only for the same city to crucify Him days later. The ashes thus symbolise the fleeting nature of worldly honour and the call to repentance.

The cross, drawn on the forehead, serves as a paradoxical symbol—a mark of death and redemption, of sin and salvation. It reminds believers that while they are mortal, they are also recipients of divine grace.

The Call to Fast, Pray, and Give

Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of the 40-day Lenten journey, mirroring Christ’s fasting in the wilderness before His ministry (Matthew 4:1-11). It is a period of self-examination, sacrifice, and spiritual renewal.

Three pillars define this period:

1. Fasting – A discipline of self-control, symbolising detachment from worldly desires. Many Christians abstain from meat or certain indulgences.

2. Prayer – A deeper communion with God, seeking forgiveness and guidance.

3. Almsgiving – Acts of charity, reflecting love for one’s neighbour.

This triad of fasting, prayer, and giving is not mere ritual but a means to refocus life’s priorities, shifting away from material distractions towards spiritual growth.

Ash Wednesday in a Contemporary Context

In a fast-paced world obsessed with youth, success, and permanence, Ash Wednesday stands as an uncomfortable yet necessary counterpoint. It disrupts the illusion of invincibility, reminding all—rich or poor, powerful or meek—that life is fragile.

Yet, it is not a day of despair but of hope. It is an invitation to introspection, to break free from selfishness, and to seek a higher purpose.

A Universal Message Beyond Christianity

Though deeply rooted in Christian tradition, the essence of Ash Wednesday resonates across faiths and philosophies. The Buddhist concept of impermanence (Anicca), the Hindu cycle of birth, death, and rebirth (Samsara), and the Stoic meditation on memento mori (remember you must die) all echo similar reflections.

In an age where distractions abound, Ash Wednesday invites a pause—a sacred moment to acknowledge our mortality, seek renewal, and walk the path of grace.

So, when you see a smudge of ash on a forehead, know that it is not just a mark but a message: Life is fleeting, but in humility and faith, we find eternity.

The One Question That Ruffles My Feathers”

“The One Question That Ruffles My Feathers”

Questions are the windows to curiosity, the bridges to understanding, and the catalysts for meaningful conversations. They shape dialogues, reveal perspectives, and often spark revelations. However, not all questions are welcome. Some pry too deep, others rest too heavy, and a few, despite their innocence, manage to sting like an uninvited winter chill.

If there is one question that unsettles me, it is this: “What do you do all day?”

At first glance, it appears harmless—perhaps even a genuine inquiry laced with curiosity. Yet, beneath its seemingly innocuous exterior, it carries an undertone of judgment, an unspoken assumption that a person’s worth is tied exclusively to tangible productivity. The question subtly implies that one’s daily pursuits must be accounted for, justified, or defended.

The Silent Sting of Assumptions

Life, at any stage, is a rich tapestry woven with experience, reflection, and purpose. The idea that one’s daily routine must always conform to a structured, conventional definition of work is, at best, outdated and, at worst, dismissive. It disregards the invisible yet significant pursuits that fill one’s hours—intellectual engagement, personal growth, creative expression, and moments of quiet introspection.

It also presumes that productivity is solely measured in economic terms, sidelining contributions that cannot be quantified in balance sheets. Whether one is engaged in writing, mentoring, exploring ideas, or simply embracing a well-earned pause, each moment holds its own merit.

Beyond the Surface: The Depth of a Day

A day well spent need not always translate into a list of accomplished tasks. Some days are devoted to deep thinking, others to creative exploration. Some are enriched by books, music, and nature; others by conversations that spark new perspectives. In these moments, life breathes beyond the mechanical ticking of a clock.

To ask, “What do you do all day?” is to assume that a life must be packed with visible action to be meaningful. Yet, some of the most profound transformations happen in stillness, away from the eyes of the world.

A Question Better Left Unasked

Instead of framing a question that subtly scrutinises, perhaps a better approach would be to ask, “What have you been reflecting on lately?” or “What has inspired you recently?” These invite conversation without judgement. They acknowledge that value is not always tied to action but often to thought, experience, and purpose.

So, the next time someone poses that dreaded question, I might just smile and say, “Oh, you’d be surprised how much a day holds.” And then, I’d leave them guessing.