Chasing the Elusive Hours: What I Wish I Could Do More Every Day

Chasing the Elusive Hours: What I Wish I Could Do More Every Day

The ticking clock is both a friend and a foe, offering twenty-four golden hours yet slipping away like grains of sand through my fingers. As the sun sets each day, I find myself yearning for more—more moments, more fulfilment, more of what truly matters.

A Time-Honoured Desire

There was a time when the concept of ‘more’ was measured by material gains—academic accolades, professional milestones, and financial security. But as the years have added their gentle creases to my face and wisdom to my soul, I have realised that my deepest yearning is for something far less tangible but infinitely more precious.

1. Conversations That Matter

I wish I could spend more time in unhurried conversations—with my wife, my son, and most of all, my grandkids. Their innocent eyes brim with curiosity, their laughter echoes with untainted joy, and their tiny fingers grasp at life with an excitement that reignites my own. To sit with them, to hear their babbling turn into words, to watch their mind bloom—this is a treasure no wealth can buy.

Similarly, I miss those long, meaningful discussions I once had as a Principal, where ideas and aspirations flowed freely. The echo of those debates and heartfelt exchanges still lingers in my mind, nudging me to recreate them whenever possible.

2. The Symphony of My Soul: Music

If I could, I would lose myself in music every single day. My harmonium and keyboard beckon me, whispering the melodies of bygone days when I led choirs, trained voices, and compiled hymnbooks. Mukesh’s melancholic tunes, Jim Reeves’ soothing voice, and the healing ragas of Hindustani classical music—each note is a balm, each rhythm a heartbeat. Yet, in the rush of daily life, these melodies often become faint echoes instead of the symphony I long for.

3. The Written Word—My Eternal Companion

Writing is not just a passion; it is my sanctuary. Whether penning down my thoughts for a blog, reminiscing about childhood struggles, or crafting verses that mirror my experiences, I wish I could do it more. The joy of weaving words into narratives, of painting emotions through phrases, and of immortalising thoughts on paper is unparalleled. Alas, the practicalities of life often rob me of this luxury.

4. The Open Road and the Whispers of Nature

The call of the road, the scent of earth after rain, the hush of the mountains—how I long to heed them more often! Whether cycling through bylanes, driving through the countryside, or simply taking a stroll under a canopy of stars, I crave more of these moments. The wind against my face, the symphony of rustling leaves, and the endless horizon—nature is a silent poet, and I wish I had more time to read its verses.

5. Giving Back—Guiding and Mentoring

Having spent decades in education, I find immense satisfaction in guiding young minds. If I could, I would dedicate more hours to mentoring students, training teachers, and sharing the insights life has gifted me. Even in retirement, my passion for education remains undiminished, but the opportunities to actively contribute are often scarce.

The Reality of ‘More’

The truth, however, is that time remains indifferent to our desires. The key, perhaps, is not in finding ‘more’ time but in making better use of what we have. Each moment spent in meaningful pursuit is a victory against time’s relentless march.

As I ponder over this, I remind myself that life’s beauty lies not in its length but in its depth. If I can embrace music, cherish conversations, pen my thoughts, and breathe in the world around me—then, even in fleeting moments, I have lived fully.

And perhaps, just perhaps, that is ‘more’ than enough.

The Pillars of My Life: A Journey o

The Pillars of My Life: A Journey of Values, Passions, and Solitude

Life, in all its unpredictability, has often placed me at crossroads where choices were not just about survival but about defining who I am. Over the years, I have come to realise that while relationships provide warmth, the foundation of my existence is laid upon certain unshakable pillars. These are the constants—values, passions, and reflections—that have shaped my journey, given me purpose, and continue to guide me even as I navigate the solitude of my present days.

1. The Pursuit of Knowledge

Learning is an eternal companion. The desire to understand, to question, and to seek has been ingrained in me since childhood. My background in Physics trained me to appreciate the logic and beauty of the universe, while my deep dive into history, philosophy, and mythology has given me perspectives that transcend time. Even now, the thirst for intellectual exploration remains unquenched. Books, discussions, and writing have become my sanctuary, a realm where my mind finds its freedom.

2. Music: My Soul’s Language

If words can heal, music can resurrect. The harmonium, the keyboard, and the melodies of Mukesh, Jim Reeves, and classical ragas are not just pastimes but lifelines. Music has been the most trusted companion—an entity that neither demands nor disappoints. The transcendence of a raga played on a flute or the lyrical depth of a well-written song has the power to uplift my spirit on the loneliest of days. In music, I find the echoes of my soul.

3. Writing: My Dialogue with the World

Words are not just scribbled ink on paper; they are my conversation with the universe. Be it poetry, blogs, or books, writing has been my way of leaving footprints in the sands of time. Every piece I write carries a part of me—my struggles, my wisdom, my moments of despair, and my glimmers of hope. Writing is not just an art; it is an extension of my being.

4. The Call of the Road

The open road, the unknown paths, the thrill of exploration—travel has been a teacher in its own right. Trekking up a hill, cycling through a quiet road, or rafting in turbulent waters—all have imparted lessons that no classroom could. They have taught me resilience, patience, and the joy of discovery. Each journey is not just about the destination; it is a dialogue with the self, a test of endurance, and a celebration of freedom.

5. The Solace of Spirituality

Though I do not confine myself to rigid dogmas, spirituality has always been a guiding force. The chanting of Sanskrit shlokas, the philosophical musings from different faiths, and the unwavering belief in divine mercy have given me strength in moments of despair. It is this faith that has often lifted me when the weight of solitude threatened to pull me down.

6. The Legacy of Teaching

Once a Principal, always a teacher. The classroom, the hymnbook I curated, the school choir I trained—these memories are etched in my heart. Though I no longer stand before a classroom, the teacher within me refuses to retire. The joy of imparting wisdom, of shaping young minds, and of watching students grow into remarkable individuals is an achievement no accolade can surpass.

The Weight and Wisdom of Solitude

As I sit in my space, surrounded by books, melodies, and memories, solitude whispers both bitter truths and comforting realities. There are moments when silence feels like a curse—when the absence of engaging conversations and shared laughter makes the walls seem too distant. But there are also moments when solitude feels like a privilege—when it allows deep reflection, uninterrupted creativity, and an unshaken connection with my inner self.

Living alone is a paradox—it is a journey of both longing and self-discovery. I miss the camaraderie, the spontaneous conversations, and the gentle reassurance of companionship. But in this solitude, I have also found clarity, strength, and an unbreakable bond with myself. It is not loneliness; it is a different kind of togetherness—with books, with music, with thoughts, and with an invisible but ever-present divine grace.

At the end of it all, life is not just about what we have but about what we become. And through all the lessons, losses, and learnings, I continue to become.

Tags:

#LifeLessons #Passions #MusicAndWriting #Travel #Solitude #Spirituality #Teaching #Wisdom #JourneyOfSelf #Reflections

Shuffling Through the Mirage: A Soliloquy of Change

Shuffling Through the Mirage: A Soliloquy of Change

Ludhiana beckons me once more, yet it is not the city of my student days. Then, I was a wanderer upon the shores of youth, living in a solitary room where dreams were vast, but means were meagre. Life was a crucible—fire and steel. I cooked, cleaned, scavenged, and survived. My world was small, my aspirations immense.

“Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Takes everything but leaves the truth.”

Now, I stand within walls adorned with books, furniture, and memories. The space has grown, yet has it truly expanded? Or has life merely gathered echoes of its own passage, like fallen leaves swept into corners by the autumn wind? Comfort does not always yield ease. What was once fluid now resists, what was once effortless now demands intention. Yet, I shall make it a habit to live.

The Silence of Solitude

Silence is a strange gift. Once feared, now embraced. It speaks without words, fills without weight. It offers time—time to pray, to read, to write, to listen to the whispers of the soul. In solitude, the mind is both a sanctuary and a battlefield, where reflections rise like tides, sometimes calm, sometimes turbulent.

“The soul that walks alone at night,
Sees truth beyond the blinding light.”

The Farewell to the Wheel

Months ago, I parted ways with my car, that chariot of freedom which had carried me through several years of journeys. For decades, my hands commanded the wheel, my feet dictated the speed. Now, I surrender to another rhythm, entrusting my path to unseen hands—an Uber driver, a fleeting presence, a symbol of shifting tides.

“All that is owned shall be lost,
Time counts neither gain nor cost.”

Life does not take with cruelty; it takes with indifference. One day, you possess; the next, you adjust.

The Mirage of Change

Life is shifting, rearranging, like a sand dune sculpted by the wind—never the same, never still. Am I walking towards solutions or deeper into riddles? Is the road unfolding or closing in? The answers remain blurred, much like a mirage dancing on the horizon—visible, alluring, yet always beyond reach.

Yet, through all the ventures and misadventures, my convictions stand firm. Life has been a teacher—sometimes gentle, sometimes ruthless. The love I hold, the faith I carry, these remain unshaken.

Perhaps, in the grand design, what we own or lose matters little. It is not the cars we drive, the rooms we fill, or the burdens we accumulate that define us. It is the truths we uphold, the prayers we whisper, and the love we refuse to surrender. These alone endure.

Tags: #PhilosophyOfLife #SolitudeAndReflection #PoetryAndWisdom #LifeLessons #ChangeAndTransition #JourneyOfTheSoul #Minimalism #ShiftingTides #LivingWithPurpose #MirageOfLife

Ink It Till You Make It: My Hilarious Tattoo Fantasy

“Ink It Till You Make It: My Hilarious Tattoo Fantasy”

Tattoos, they say, are a permanent expression of one’s personality, beliefs, or fleeting whims—depending on how much thought (or tequila) has gone into the decision. While I have never considered branding my body with indelible ink, the idea of getting a tattoo, purely for the sake of amusement, has always tickled my fancy. If ever I were to succumb to this rebellious urge, my choice would be nothing short of legendary.

Location, Location, Location!

The placement of a tattoo is as crucial as its design. Some opt for the arm to flex their artistic prowess, others prefer the back, allowing it to remain a hidden secret until a beach vacation exposes it in all its glory. But me? I have a rather unconventional spot in mind—my balding head.

Yes, you read that right. While most people embrace baldness with grace (or a hat), I’d transform mine into a spectacle of hilarity. Right on my shiny dome, I’d ink a realistic barcode, just for the fun of watching supermarket cashiers attempt to scan it. Imagine the sheer joy of standing at a checkout counter, the beep failing repeatedly, and the awkward moment when the cashier looks up, utterly perplexed. Would they ask for a price check? Would they call the manager? The comedic potential is endless!

The Quirky Design: A Masterpiece in Foolery

But why stop at a barcode? I could add a WiFi symbol just above it, ensuring that tech-savvy strangers constantly try to “connect” with me. Or better yet, the words “Loading… Please Wait” in a pixelated font, so that every time I scratch my head, people wonder if I’m buffering.

For the pièce de résistance, I might get a small power button tattooed at the back of my neck, just at the hairline. This would serve as a subtle invitation for mischievous individuals to poke it and exclaim, “Oops, I think I just turned you off!”

Why This Madness?

Tattoos are usually about self-expression, but why not make them a source of joy for others? A permanent joke, a walking, talking meme, if you will. Life is too short to take oneself too seriously, and what better way to embrace the passage of time than by wearing a joke on one’s skin?

Of course, considering my school principal past, this idea may not be met with unanimous approval. I can already picture the raised eyebrows of former colleagues and students. “Sir, is that… a barcode on your head?” To which I’d reply with a solemn nod, “Yes, and if you scan it, you’ll find my retirement plan.”

Ink or No Ink?

While I may never actually muster the courage to go under the needle, the thought alone brings me immense amusement. But who knows? If one fine day I wake up feeling particularly adventurous, I just might find myself at a tattoo parlour, pointing to my head and saying, “One barcode, please. And make sure it’s Amazon Prime compatible!”

Until then, I shall remain an ink-free enigma, leaving my baldness to shine in its natural, untattooed glory—though the temptation to become a walking QR code may never truly fade!

Resilient: The Word That Defines Me

Resilient: The Word That Defines Me

Language has a curious way of encapsulating an entire life’s journey within a single word. If I were to pick one word that truly defines me, it would be resilient. It is not just a descriptor but a testament to the life I have lived—a life marked by perseverance, adaptability, and an unyielding spirit in the face of adversities.

Weathering the Storms

Resilience is not about never falling; it is about rising every time life knocks you down. I have faced trials that could have shattered a weaker soul—sudden disruptions, unforeseen challenges, and moments of utter solitude. Yet, through it all, I have learned that setbacks are not roadblocks but stepping stones to greater wisdom and strength.

Like the mythical Phoenix, I have emerged from the ashes of hardship, each time more determined than before. Life has tested me in many ways, but I have always found the strength to adapt, rebuild, and march forward with renewed purpose.

Bending Without Breaking

Much like a bamboo that sways with the wind yet remains deeply rooted, my resilience has allowed me to adjust without losing my core identity. Change, though often unwelcome, has been a constant companion. The ability to embrace it rather than resist it has been my saving grace.

Challenges in my professional journey, uncertainties in the pursuit of new opportunities, and the shifting dynamics of relationships have all shaped me. I have not been immune to feelings of isolation or moments of despair, but I have never allowed them to define me. Instead, I have channelled them into my writing, my music, and my ever-evolving quest for knowledge.

The Philosophy of Resilience

Philosophers and thinkers across cultures have spoken of resilience in different ways. The Bhagavad Gita extols the virtue of equanimity—treating success and failure alike. Stoic philosophers, from Seneca to Marcus Aurelius, have echoed the same wisdom: control what you can, endure what you must.

Resilience is not merely an inherent trait but a cultivated skill. It is the art of finding light in the darkest tunnels, of turning pain into poetry, and of transforming struggles into stories worth telling.

A Life of Purpose

My journey has not been about avoiding difficulties but about facing them with courage. Every challenge I have encountered has enriched my understanding of life, deepened my empathy, and reinforced my belief in the power of perseverance.

As I continue this journey, I hold onto resilience not just as a word that describes me but as a philosophy that guides me. For no matter what life has in store, I will bend, I will endure, and I will rise—always.

So, if I were to sum up my existence in a single word, resilient would be the one. It is my shield, my sword, and my story.

Echoes of Praise: The Compliment That Stayed with Me”

“Echoes of Praise: The Compliment That Stayed with Me”

Compliments come in various shapes and sizes—some fleeting, others profound. They often slip through the cracks of memory, overshadowed by the weight of criticism or self-doubt. Yet, every so often, a few words of appreciation find a home within us, echoing through the corridors of time.

For me, one such compliment came at a pivotal juncture in my life—one that shaped my self-perception and fortified my resolve. It wasn’t a grandiose declaration or an extravagant eulogy, but a simple, heartfelt acknowledgment that reaffirmed my purpose.

The Moment of Revelation

As a school Principal, my days were often a whirlwind of responsibilities—mentoring teachers, inspiring students, pacifying anxious parents, and ensuring the smooth operation of an ever-evolving institution. One day, amidst the cacophony of bells and bustling corridors, a former student visited me.

He was a young man now, navigating the complex tapestry of adulthood. With a hesitant smile, he approached my office, his eyes brimming with nostalgia. We exchanged pleasantries, but as he spoke, his voice grew steadier, more deliberate.

“Sir,” he said, “I just wanted to tell you that whatever I am today, it is because of you. You did not just teach us subjects; you taught us how to live. You believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. I will never forget that.”

For a moment, time stood still. The weight of those words settled deep within me, warming the chambers of my heart. It was not just a compliment—it was a validation of years spent shaping young minds, an affirmation that my passion had made a difference.

Why This Compliment Matters

In a world obsessed with quantifiable success, genuine appreciation is a rare gem. This particular compliment resonated with me because it was not about an academic achievement or a fleeting moment of excellence. It was about impact. It reassured me that my efforts had extended beyond the realm of textbooks and syllabi into the fabric of a young man’s life.

It reminded me of the age-old adage, “A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops.” Indeed, the footprints we leave in the sands of our students’ lives often outlast our own presence.

The Ripple Effect of Kind Words

Compliments, when sincere, have the power to uplift, heal, and transform. They serve as signposts, reassuring us that we are on the right path, even when doubt clouds our vision.

Reflecting on this compliment, I realise that it is not just about the words spoken but about the underlying sentiment. It encapsulated the very essence of my journey—dedication, perseverance, and the unwavering commitment to education.

A Note to the Reader

As you traverse the intricate maze of life, pause and think—what was the best compliment you ever received? More importantly, when was the last time you gave one? A few heartfelt words, spoken at the right moment, can become the beacon that guides someone through their darkest hour.

After all, in a world where words are often wielded as weapons, let us choose to make them instruments of kindness.

Echoes of Emptiness: A Ballad of the Lost Soul

Echoes of Emptiness: A Ballad of the Lost Soul

In silent halls where shadows creep,
I wander wide, yet sink so deep.
The world moves on, its echoes loud,
Yet I remain—a face in the crowd.

The laughter fades, the voices die,
The stars blink once, then shun the sky.
A heart once bold, now pale and cold,
A story left—unfinished, untold.

A Dance with Solitude

Oh, loneliness, thou cunning thief,
You steal my joys, yet leave my grief.
A whispered sigh, an unseen tear,
Yet none shall ask, nor come too near.

Is this my fate, to drift alone,
To find no voice, to hear no tone?
Or is this night a test of will,
To stand unshaken, silent, still?

The Mirage of Control

I reached for dreams—they turned to dust,
Built homes of faith—now wrecked by rust.
With open hands, I begged the skies,
Yet silence met my earnest cries.

Did fate betray, or was it me,
For hoping life was mine to see?
A puppet’s dance, a fleeting show,
A script rehearsed, yet none shall know.

Defeat’s Unseen Gift

Defeat, thou art a ruthless friend,
Thy lessons sharp, yet wounds may mend.
For pain may carve what fate denies,
And ashes rise when fire dies.

The mighty fell, yet rose once more,
Their shattered pasts became their lore.
Perhaps defeat’s a whispered call,
Not to surrender—but to stand tall.

The Faintest Light

And what is life but threads unspun,
A tale half-told, a race half-run?
A spark may die, but not the flame,
A soul may bend, yet not to shame.

For though the night is long and deep,
The dawn still stirs, though now asleep.
And if I breathe, then so shall I
Find strength to rise, not wait to die.

Epilogue: A Choice to Make

So here I stand, on fate’s cruel brink,
Too lost to smile, too tired to think.
Yet if this tale is mine to weave,
I shall not go—I shall not leave.

For somewhere past this endless grey,
Awaits a time, a place, a day.
And till it comes, I’ll walk alone,
Through storms unkind, through paths unknown.

For even in the blackest night,
A soul may yet become its light.

Tags: #PoetryOfDespair #Loneliness #FindingStrength #DefeatAndHope #EmotionalStruggles #PhilosophicalReflections #Resilience #HopeInDarkness #LifeLessons