e Magus

A few weeks ago, manifestation began manifesting itself in my life. It first appeared during the parents orientation at my son's school. Apart from the usual academics, values and future readiness, the principal also spoke earnestly about manifestation. A few days later, an actor in a magazine interview attributed much of her success to it. Then came the inevitable WhatsApp forward, delivered with the confidence usually reserved for medical advice and stock market predictions. Three encounters in two weeks felt statistically significant. Either manifestation was everywhere, or it had decided to manifest itself specifically before me. Manifestation, is the belief that by focusing your thoughts, intentions and emotions on a desired outcome, you can attract it into your reality. Think positively, visualise success, align your energy with your goals, and the universe, apparently, begins making arrangements on your behalf. But this idea is surprisingly familiar. The urge behind manifest...

Like every year, our festival of Vishu arrives on April 14th. When we were kids, Vishu meant two or three things: early morning firecrackers, Vishu kaineettam, and the sumptuous sadya that followed. But the central activity revolves around the Vishu kani. Late on the previous night, long after most of the family members have gone to sleep, the women of the family would still be awake assembling the Vishu kani. The brass uruli would be brought out and polished until it caught the lamplight. A kolam would be drawn, and rice, fruits, vegetables from the harvest, flowers, a mirror, a lamp, jewellery, Puranas,  currencies, new cloth, and the image of Krishna would be placed with care—as if abundance itself were being composed into a still life. Before sunrise, everyone in the household would see this arrangement as their first sight of the day, a moment of bounty and beauty. By evening, however, everything would disappear. If one thinks about it, we Indians seem remarkably comfortable p...

This post somehow is an extension of my earlier blog, For Ol’ Times’ Sake , written after meeting former colleagues at a reunion. I found myself thinking about the curious role memory plays in our lives, and one thought led to another. It was slightly unsettling to find out that the memories we revived that evening were from twenty or thirty years old. Yet, if I were to look at the last 15 years of my life, or even recent months…the recollections seemed strangely thinner. It was not that nothing had happened. If anything, life has been busier than ever. Yet somehow the experiences did not feel as firmly lodged in memory. This made me think, are we creating fewer memories today, even though we are having more experiences? For example, let’s take music. I keep listening to Spotify or the local FM station in my daily commute. I tried remembering which was the most popular song that I would heard a number of times last year. Nothing stood out. Try this out for yourself, if you can recall… ...

Last week, I attended a get-together of former colleagues from the Times of India Hyderabad office. For me, and many of us, it had been more than two decades since we had last worked together. The day had all the ingredients of a good reunion—food, music, drinks, laughter, and the slightly awkward but warm ritual of rediscovering faces that had once been part of everyday life. The event had been wonderfully organised by a group of enthusiastic volunteers ( Murthy Vadapalli , Ranjana Rudra , Suresh Kochattil , Navneet Mathur Padmini Kashyap and many others) who had put in the effort to track people down, coordinate schedules, and make the day happen. And judging by the smiles, the hugs, and the decibel levels in the room, their effort had clearly paid off. A big shout out to all the amazing folks! As I wandered around the venue reconnecting with people from my past, it struck me that most of us were not there merely because an invitation had been sent. We were there because of somethi...

Sorry, I’ve been MIA for a few weeks. One of the enduring thing about working on projects for large MNC’s is that most of your day is occupied with RoB stuff. One thing that frightens me the most during these meetings and knowledge sharing sessions is CUA - Casual Use of Acronyms. Every company has its own alphabet soup, brewed carefully over decades. The same three letters can mean wildly different things depending on which corporate office you are working. One of the first thing I ask, when I start working for such companies is, do you have a glossary for the acronyms that you regularly use? Rarely is there one and you need to learn by asking. Sometimes I feel like a child picking up a new language. It isn’t that acronyms were not part of our daily lexicon. But, earlier, it was simpler and kinder. In school, PTO meant Please Turn Over. Teachers insisted on put a dot after each alphabet to remind the reader that something was being shortened….not replaced. So, Please Turn Over was wri...

Few days back I was at CIMAR Hospital, Thrissur where I saw a ‘regular’ scenario. Couple of grandparents hovering over a newborn grandchild. There was a softness in their voices, an indulgence in their smiles, a patience that seemed endless. Every yawn was celebrated, and a grasp of their extended finger making them laugh. The new parents’ faces were a mix of happiness, joy, anxiousness, etc.   We always say that the grandparents love their grandchildren more than they ever loved their own children. What made me think was, why does display of love skip a generation? Then it struck me that perhaps it is not because the love is deeper, but because it is lighter. Their own children came with timetables and school fees, fever charts and future anxieties. Grandchildren arrive free of such encumbrances. They can be adored without being managed, cuddled without consequence, returned safely to their parents when the crying starts. It is love, distilled—emotion without administration. I’m n...