The thought balcony

 When the Cylinder Runs Low The other day, I saw something that stayed with me longer than I expected. People were lined up, waiting for LPG cylinders. There was a certain restlessness in the air—not loud, not chaotic, but anxious enough to be felt. Later, my maid hesitantly asked me if we had an extra cylinder at home. There was worry in her voice. A kind of quiet panic. And for a moment, it all felt very real. Very immediate. A shortage. But as the moment passed, another thought stayed back. Is it really just a shortage? Or is it trying to tell us something more? There’s something quietly unsettling about the times we live in. We already know what works. We’ve seen homes run on rooftop solar, kitchen waste turn into compost instead of rotting in landfills, and simple practices like rainwater harvesting or balcony gardening make a real difference. None of this is new. None of this is beyond us. And yet, most of it remains where it feels comfortable—   in conversations, in int...

 # The Stories That Cannot Be Told Some stories are not forgotten—   they are simply never told. There are wars we see—and then there are wars that never make it to headlines. The latter are fought in shadows, by individuals whose names we may never know. Intelligence operatives, working through agencies  exist in a world where success is invisible and failure is fatal. Their victories are not celebrated, because the best outcome is often that nothing happens at all. And yet, everything happens because of them. A conspiracy intercepted at the right moment can save millions of lives. A coded message decoded in time can prevent a war, a bombing, or a national crisis. These are not exaggerated ideas but quiet truths. But unlike soldiers who return to parades and medals, these individuals return, if at all, to anonymity. No applause. No acknowledgment. Sometimes, not even a name. That is why stories like Dhurandhar stay with us. The ending, where the protagonist chooses not t...

 You don’t owe everyone an explanation  There is a particular kind of exhaustion that comes from trying to make everyone understand you. Not just informing them—but ensuring they see your intention, your effort, your struggle. You explain where you were, why you did what you did, how you were managing multiple responsibilities at once. You fill in every gap, hoping that if they just knew the full story, they would respond differently. But life doesn’t always work that way. There are times when you are literally moving between responsibilities—expected in two places, answerable to different people, and unable to fully satisfy either. From the outside, it may look like inconsistency. From within, it is an honest attempt to show up wherever you are needed. And yet, not everyone sees that. Some people only see what they expect from you. They don’t see the full picture—and sometimes, they don’t try to. They want you to fit into a space they have defined, without considering that yo...

Not Every Relationship Knows How to Hold You Not every relationship in our life is meant to hold the same depth. Yet, we move through them as if they are. We don’t always realise when it begins—but somewhere along the way, we start attaching expectations to people. Not loudly, not consciously, but quietly enough to shape how we feel when they respond… or when they don’t. A parent should understand. A friend should show up. A colleague should support. The roles feel defined. The expectations feel justified. But the reality is far less structured. Because relationships do not operate on roles as much as they operate on capacity. And capacity is uneven. There are moments when this becomes painfully clear. Like when you sit beside someone you’ve always called your own, trying to explain something that matters deeply to you—and they listen, but they don’t really understand. They respond, but not in the way you needed. And you walk away wondering whether you asked too m...

Work, Passion, and the Life We Forget to Live Work, Passion, and the Life We Forget to Live There is a quiet question that often sits somewhere at the back of our minds: How important is work in a person’s life? Some people spend their entire lives proving themselves at the workplace. They chase recognition, promotions, achievements, and the satisfaction that comes from being seen as capable and successful. Their work becomes their identity, their pride, and sometimes even their reason for waking up each morning. Yet, while they are building this world of accomplishments, their family may slowly begin to feel the absence of their time and attention. On the other hand, there are people who place their family at the very centre of their lives. Work, for them, is simply something that needs to be finished so that they can return home—to conversations at the dinner table, to children waiting to tell their stories, to the comfort of being present for the people who matter most. Thei...

  Before the Last Breath Death is one of those subjects we rarely speak about openly. It sits quietly in the background of life—acknowledged, yet avoided. Recently, while reading a book , I came across the idea of “deathbed diaries.” These were reflections  by people who were close to death—people who, knowing their time was limited, chose to leave behind confessions, advice, or regrets. What struck me most was the observation that majority of them shared regrets. Reading those reflections made me pause and turn the question inward. If I were in that moment, what would I say? Would I have a confession? Advice? Regret? When I look at my life so far, I feel I have lived it fully in many ways. Yet, like most people, I realise there are also unspoken parts of life. There are people we loved but never told. Feelings we carried quietly. Moments when hesitation spoke louder than courage. Life events, disappointments, and betrayals slowly teach us to be careful with tru...