Will that work?

I’m trying to remember a moment of kindness. From someone I know, love or spoke to as a stranger. Strangers are always kind to me and I can hardly remember a time when it was troublesome. You know it is tough to speak to a stranger only if they start judging you. This hardly happens if none of you do it. One starts and the whole trip goes opposite to kindness and you will bury the fact.

Now, as I try to remember a moment of kindness, I realise there must have been many. So many that I can’t pick the moment out of my timeline to find it as unique. Partially, it’s all my memory’s fault to not signify these hours. I mean, they are precious to me. But, somehow it is very common to my mind – this kindness.

Maybe that’s how I’ll remain grateful to this life. By taking everything that comes my way as kind enough to be normal and not a memory. Will that work?

What is this?

This blog was started solely to feed one reason. And, that is to tell me how capable in life I was to live. It’s been a journey through and out the cruise in a fiery ocean. Thus, we sail.

The notions on which I stand true to this blog have changed as the times will with the breeze brought upon us by the Northern winds. What does that mean? I don’t know exactly. But, the calming winds and the Northern lights had to be in the paragraph. And, now here’s to Jon Snow!

So, what exactly did I want to achieve to tell that I am capable?

For starters, I wanted to do just about anything other than fight with myself, my girlfriend during then, and the anxiety that comes with the nature of humans. We are the species who believe in doubt. At times, way too much in doubt itself rather than the conclusion after any quest we become a part of. That’s anxiety.

I was way too anxious when I started the blog. Whether I am happy, or sad. Whether I am from Mars, or earth. Whether I really wanted a degree, or just the skills would do. I did not have any answer to replace the alternative option to engineering. But, it turns out to be more than just the uncertainty in choices for a career. I cannot depend on any single field to keep me going. The doubts in choices of my career, at that age could have been just too much for myself. This doubt somehow led to me doubting myself, the relationships and my worth. All I knew was the fact that I liked photography. And, that’s when I started. My first post literally has the title Start.

Fun, not so fun, fact; I did not post a single article for one whole year after the first one. Times were really different during then compared to now. I don’t even remember the semantics of it all even if it happens to be only three years ago. That’s probably the only way I’ll be able to refer to the darkest periods in my life until now. I don’t remember how I put my foot in the wheels of a moving bike. But, I did put it literally on our way back from school when Sudaivee’s dad made sure I was safely back at home. And, that’s how I know that we can’t call every hard period in life as the period of darkness. We only forget to look.

Those times may have been hard enough to make me do the things I’d never imagine a sanely happy person being a part of. But, even during then I had passionately become a friend of creativity.

Even when I couldn’t stop thinking loudly, sleep calmly – I did manage, however, to keep writing. It’s magical what writing can do, or has already done for me. I believe the fruits of any struggling act are not to be found later, but when we struggle. Right there lies the courage to put out the miseries of life onto a piece of paper.

I have more than a hundred documents written and lying in the closet. Stories. Journals. Screenplays. And, just the good old scribbling patterns in a few.

Quick break. Here’s something that gives me goosebumps. I did not know until this part of the article that today is May 21. Exactly three years from the start. Damn. I am such a luck to the lucky life. And, we’ll be having Richard from the show teaching us about coincidence later on the blog. It’s funny, mostly because it’ll be me dreaming The Feynman Show.

So, these documents remain on my cloud, the weak document holder (it’s just plastic, according to me) and even a few are printed.

The goals I had for this blog, as I remember vividly, never really existed. Even today, I don’t have any. I mean, I did feel like having 10,000 hits on the blog would give me the confidence to register myself a domain and start monetizing the site. It did feel like a task so hard that I’d take one whole year to do it. Honestly, it’s never really hard to achieve numbers like that. Because, these numbers hardly tell the audience anything. They may only be a form of feedback in the disguise of reach.

River Bhima

Here we are with only 5,000 hits and I have registered a domain for a dream-community. It’s not even the domain I had in mind for the blog. So, it’s not for the blog. That simple. This blog’s domain will be registered at a time when it feels like a necessity for it to keep going.

Until then, if you have suggestions for a community where artists and people conventionally called as “scientists” can get along. Create and live the dream of art. Become new artists. Enjoy the adventures together. Then, leave your suggestions on the website. It is projected to be up and running within the next month. A subreddit is on it’s way. We’ll be having more fun than ever talking the wonders of art and this gameful life.

There’s rarely a word like gameful. Oh, really?

New Person, Same Old Mistakes

In the age of change being so rapid and constantly inevitable, we are bound to face the unexpected. Sooner or later, everyone has to be ready for what we might not be prepared. The current pandemic is one such great example for things unexpected. But, the examples we need to be looking at right now are not the unexpected. That is already happening. There are examples of people challenging this change on their own terms and living like it barely causes any devastating effects on their life. I am trying to be them by keeping up with my work on blog and the assignments at college. The latter seems to bring disinterest at first, but clearly takes off once I start doing it.

Keeping myself close to work makes me realise of the things I have never come across. I still don’t know how to deal with syllables. I don’t know the spelling of words like syllables. Randomly pick one from college, I don’t know how Computer Vision works. But, these realizations are only because I know a few things at first. Otherwise, why would anyone want to learn at all?

It gets tiring and even tedious to keep writing daily on the blog. I had stupidly dreamy goals of doing it before lock-down. It is only safe to say that without this lock-down, I could have been easily distracted. Only because of lock-down, I am able to try new things on a daily basis. And, stick to a few of them. I wish to stick to the lessons learnt during the lock-down.

Looking back at these “new” endeavors of mine, I have done these many times before. And, only trying seems to be the ultimate meaning any endeavor might have.

The world keeps changing, and the universe seems to justify the changes.


It has been a calculable time since I did this and yet it feels the same. I sit down at my chair in a room (mostly) done by me. Then, I set up my space pushing away the books, papers, pens, wrappers, even bananas and empty glasses of water on my desk so that I can write. I put on the music, preferably anything which does not have any obvious meaning to it. Meaning, no words of a language I already know or even better – no words at all. You see I like music in the way it leaves me with infinite stories. All of these possibilities concur at a single point of belief where meaning need not exist. This arrangement of a sea of chances on a single piece of hope is very much like our planet. The one we all are destroying.

Welcome to the progressive growth this blog is bound to be a part of. Now, I write.


I have received many messages in my life. And not just on WhatsApp, but even in the form of letters, mails and human voices. In all of these messages, there is a common point of understanding. These messages could be different and even irrelevant to each other. Yet, they all look the same when I see them just as what they are. Before you dig any deeper and misunderstand what I might have meant, please pause. Because, what I mean by messages is not the conclusion of them being a formulaic sense of communication, or the communication itself but the literal meaning of them being ultimately just a message. A set of letters or an arrangement of these sets at the best. You might think of it (plainly) as a poorly exciting way of looking at life in general. I differ, because I am sure that stories get much more exciting after they are received with no former understanding before. It is always a better option for me to not have such former understandings at all in the first place to come what may. They ruin many elements which matter to the experience I am having or might have later. And, it is by experience I hold such views.

I prefer to journal matters of my life either after they are done being experienced or well before they begin. A few don’t begin while some never stop being. This sole conundrum allows me to maintain a dumber violation of my choices just in case I do journal any of it while it happens.


Precisely speaking, there’s very little to add in the bucket of changes my life has had since the last time I wrote on this blog. Not to forget, it still is a calculable time. I still attend college, waste a lot of money, spend humanitarian times with fellow humans and try to do something creative every day. The last thing I do in the sentence before this one, is the only part that can be said to have changes in the way I do it constantly.


Time and again, it is the creative aspect of my life where I see evidence. Evidence for it to work every single time. I make an edit, it works. I write a program, it works most of the times. I make a video, it works. I make anything, it potentially has already worked itself out before it even exists. That’s the comforting part of creativity to me. Ever since I got the taste of it’s outcomes in a palpable way. I know that inventive thinking gets me to the places of peace and harmony. It brings in a kind of relief only I’d know how to put into words. A few of the times that I try to express this relief, I don’t regularly have the form of language to put forth my understanding. Usually during such times, rarely do I have the wishes to even voice the courteous experience I might have had.

I believe it is not in the list of right choices to see creativity as one entity. Or, as an entity at all. It does not have a defined meaning which remains the same throughout. Painting a portrait of Mona Lisa, I believe, is just as much creative as joining two points on a paper. It is our humane pity little mind that would consider such comparison as an insult towards the painter. The painter mostly knows that this human came up with only one way to join the two points. A straight line. Hardly, this human might have thought of two ways while he or she was busy building up the hate towards such comparison. When triggered of this fault in the human, the human ceases to be.


It simply can’t begin anywhere for it has no certain form of existence. Creativity is not modest enough to fall for the notions defined by a modest being, the human. It can’t simply “be” to me. Progressively, it is moving in every direction imaginable.


When I tripped to Marasanige, a village with hardly more than ten houses to count, I happened to be closer with this planet. I have always been close to it. I faced this nature of the planet where observing every move it makes from within, connects the observer instantly. Because, we are a part of this planet unlike the famous notions where the planet belongs to us. It may be true that Earth does not depend on us entirely to exist, but since it does not have a language direct enough to tell us how badly we are treating it – it burns at a speed unimaginable. It will exist, but we won’t be here when the time to survive reaches our doors.


The problem with solving climate-change, as beautifully explained by Anthony Leiserowitz, is it’s invisibility. For example, we can’t see the damage being done to the climate when on the road. If the gas coming out of every vehicle was presented in a more visual form, we would have dealt with this problem a long time ago. Moreover, we feel like it is a distant problem which the future generations will face. It might be true but it’s not. Looking at earth’s timeline, it ages nearly 4.5 billion years. Does 2100 seem as something distant from 2020 when we know that it is more than billions of years after the earth was born. I think our planet won’t even have to worry about humans. It will remain. I have realized that the concern in reality is subjective to “save the planet for us” rather than the famous perception of climate-change being just “save the planet”.

It is a very tricky problem indeed. Feeling guilty about the damage we’ve done to our planet won’t bring us the solutions. And, so does not being scared of what is to come. We will solve it, looking at the history for most of the problems faced by humanity – it is better to remain optimistic. Even if this optimism is highly polarized, it might just work.


I am excited to do more for this blog. Also, I have a lot more in store to work on. Publishing all of these works over the internet will take their own time. In the mean time, I will be working on one article every month from here on. A single post for the whole month will make it worth the wait plus the content, I believe. For this to work progressively, I will need your support in keeping this blog a busy place even when I am not here. You can make this happen by making your loved ones read my blog. Thank you!

Comment what you think about mangoes.