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WIP Is Sacred

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There is a space between the first spark of an idea and its final, public form a sacred, silent space. In that space lives the work-in-progress. The story still shaping itself. The voice still warming up. The creator still learning how to say what needs to be said. It is tender, unformed, and yet incredibly powerful. And because of that, it demands respect, not exposure. Recently, I shared something personal and unfinished, the first chapter of my book. It was a quiet act of trust, not performance. I handed it to someone I love and assumed would guard it the way I had been guarding it myself with patience, with reverence. Instead, I found out that lines from that chapter were being quoted to friends, casually, as if they were already public property. And suddenly, I felt stripped of something intimate. Something not yet ready to meet the world. This wasn’t about someone trying to hurt me. This was about someone not understanding the weight of what they held. The chapter wasn’t just a c...
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From Measurable to Meaningful

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  Evolving SMART Goals   SMART goals. Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-bound . Basically, the alphabet soup every manager loves throwing around in planning meetings. They’ve been around longer than some office coffee machines and just like those machines, they get the job done… but sometimes, they lack flavor. SMART goals have helped organizations plan better, stay on track, and break down big objectives into manageable tasks. No doubt about it. But let me ask you something real: Are these goals still smart enough? Or have they just become a box to tick? We’re no longer working in cubicles with productivity posters taped to the walls. Today, the workplace is more about people, purpose, and passion. (Look at that, I just penned 3-P’s!) Yet, despite the shift, we still set goals as though we’re assembling IKEA furniture exact, rigid, and, well, a bit soul-sucking. We hit every milestone. The progress bar is full. The dashboard's green. But inside? We...
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Signed, Sealed... Ignored?

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Let’s talk about words for a second. They're tiny, aren’t they? So small they almost seem inconsequential. Yet, these little powerhouses can launch empires, wreck relationships, start wars, and heal wounds. But somewhere along the line, we’ve turned them into confetti, scattered about for effect, with zero intention of cleaning up the mess afterward. I have a thought bear with me. What if every promise you made was an actual agreement? Not the metaphorical kind where you're like, Yeah, I’m totally going to hit the gym this week (we all know how that goes). No, I mean the kind of agreement that you sign , the kind that binds you to something real, like the paperwork when you buy a house or adopt a pet. Wild, right? Section 2(g) of the Indian Contract Act defines an agreement as, every promise and every set of promises, forming the consideration for each other, is an agreement. Here's how it plays out: You say, I’ll do this in two months bam, that’s a deadline. You s...
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Distractions Are Costing You Everything

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You are not being lazy; you are being loyal to your distractions. Let’s be honest, food, friends, weekends, alcohol, cigarettes, endless conversations, even the act of planning, they’re not the villains. But in your story, they’ve become the perfect escape routes. Every time you feel that itch to change your life, these distractions show up like loyal servants ready to comfort you. They don’t look harmful. That’s what makes them dangerous. They’re seductive in their normalcy. A good meal, a chill night, a deep talk, it all feels deserved. But what exactly have you earned? Comfort never created anything worth remembering. The harsh truth is, most of these habits are just dressed-up delays. You’re not recharging. You’re running. Running from the hard thing. From the responsibility of getting serious. From that heavy silence where you have to face your own undisciplined self. Food becomes emotional anaesthesia. Friends become noise. Parties become permission to forget what you said ...
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Modern Enough for You?

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  "Aunty" That’s what someone called me recently. Not as a mark of respect. Not as a term of endearment. No, this was meant to mock me to suggest that I no longer fit the definition of "modern." And why? Because I wear chuda, sindoor, and mangalsutra . Because I embrace my culture. Because I don’t feel the need to prove my independence by rejecting my traditions. But hang on modernity isn’t about what you wear, it’s about how you think. I am modern because I choose my traditions, not because they are forced upon me.  am modern because I respect my roots without being shackled by them. I am modern because I can sit at a boardroom table, make critical decisions, and still go home and light a diya. I am modern because I don’t need external validation to feel confident in my identity. And if tradition and modernity were truly opposites, how do we explain the women who changed history while proudly carrying their culture?   Savitribai Phule - who fought for women...
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Sticks, Stones, and Words

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  None Can Afford My Peace Ever notice how people don’t realize how they treat others until they’re the ones getting hurt? It’s almost laughable — oh wait, maybe I shouldn’t have said that . Well, that’s been my story one too many times. My so-called “people” turned into plot twists straight out of a bad soap opera. From career choices to health struggles, financial hurdles, and even those expectations they created for me, I’ve been let down. And guess what? I kept blaming myself, thinking, Hey, I keep God in my heart. I would never call someone a loser or say they’re unworthy. I’ve been hurt a lot, and it often felt like I was doing emotional gymnastics for an audience that didn’t even care. But here’s where it gets interesting. In 2025, I decided to put an end to being terrorized by words. Why? Because I finally realized that my peace is so much more important than someone else’s opinion. And I bet you can relate. We’ve all been there, right? Hurt by words, disappointed by ...
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Home Is Where the Punching Bag Lives

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Let’s start with a confession, my mom is the reason I can’t lose weight. No, seriously. Her cooking is too good . She’ll make multiple types of curries, fluffy chapatis, and dessert, then casually say, don’t eat too much; it’s not healthy . Like, woman, why did you unleash a buffet on me if I’m supposed to eat like a rabbit? And of course, who ends up taking the blame for my non-existent abs? My mom. But it doesn’t stop there. Bad Wi-Fi day? Dad’s fault—why can’t he just call the service provider and fix it? Wrong order delivered? Did my sister jinx my food. Fight with my partner? My family gets the silent treatment like they personally staged the argument. And don’t even get me started on the days when I wake up on the wrong side of the bed. Everyone in the house becomes a target, as if they collectively conspired to ruin my morning. Sound familiar? Let’s be honest here, we’ve all turned our families into emotional punching bags at some point. The bad day at work, the extra 2...
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