How a Simple Reply Made Me Think About Words

 

The Subtle Difference Between Seeing and Looking

The other day I sent a message to an old friend. I asked if he had checked the email I sent him. His reply was, “Yes, I saw the mail, but I have not been able to look at it yet.”

At first, this may sound like the same thing. But it is not. Seeing is just noticing. Looking means giving something time and attention. My friend had seen my email sitting in his inbox, but he had not yet looked at it with the focus it needed.

This small reply reminded me of the early days of my writing. When I had just started blogging, this very friend guided me patiently. We would have long conversations about how to write, how to connect with readers, and how to improve the style. His words encouraged me to take my first steps in sharing my thoughts with the world.

Sometimes, after reading a blog I posted, he would send me a short note of appreciation. Those small messages meant a lot. They reminded me that someone was not just seeing my work, but truly looking at it. Many others would see my blog links on WhatsApp status, but only a few actually clicked and read them. That was the difference again.

In life and in language, such differences matter. People often mix up words that are not the same. Take hearing and listening. Hearing is automatic. Listening is when you pay attention and understand. Or knowing and understanding. You may know the formula of a subject, but only when you understand it can you apply it. Even watching and observing are not identical. Watching is passive, observing is active.

My friend’s reply made me think about how important it is to be precise with words. Words carry weight. The choice of one word over another can change the meaning completely. And in communication, clarity is everything.

Looking back, I feel grateful. If I have grown as a writer, it is because of small nudges and honest feedback from friends like him. Just as he reminded me, even now, that seeing and looking are not the same, he has always helped me notice the deeper layers in words and in life.

So, the next time we check a message or read an email, we should ask ourselves: Did I just see it? Or did I really look at it?

 About the Author

Progress Demands Change, Not Consistency

When Consistency Becomes a Cage

“Be consistent,” we have been told. Wake up at 5 a.m., drink the same green juice, post your daily motivational quote, and grind like a machine. 

Sounds impressive, but let’s be honest - donkeys have been doing that forever. They walk the same road every day, carry the same load, and never once stop to ask, “Boss, why are we even going this way?”

We all know this person - the one who takes pride in doing things the same way, year after year. The kirana shop opens at 9:00 a.m. sharp, the racks are stacked with the same Parle-G packets and Nirma detergent, and the hand-written price tags look like they belong to another decade. It feels safe, dependable, even admirable - proof of discipline and dedication.

But outside, the world is moving at a different speed. Big Bazaar and D-Mart arrive, Swiggy Instamart and Blinkit deliver groceries at the doorstep, and customers change their buying habits overnight. Suddenly, the very consistency that once seemed like a strength begins to feel like a weakness. The shutter still opens right on time, but fewer and fewer customers walk in - because they’ve already clicked their orders online.

Now compare that with icons who thrived because they refused to stay stuck. Imagine if Dhirubhai Ambani had said, “Let’s just keep running the textile business - it’s consistent.” There would have been no Reliance Petrochemicals, no Jio, no transformation in the way India shops and communicates.

Or think of Sachin Tendulkar - if he had stubbornly stuck to the same batting style, he would never have adapted to T20 cricket and extended his career.

And Amitabh Bachchan? Had he stayed only the “angry young man” of the 70s, we would never have seen the reinvention that made him a legend again through TV, character roles, and endorsements. Their greatness lay not in blind consistency, but in the courage to adapt, reinvent, and be gloriously inconsistent.

Consistency is great for brushing your teeth or paying your EMIs. But if you want to stand out, innovate, or actually succeed, stubborn routine won’t cut it. Flexibility, curiosity, and a little chaos are far better companions than donkey-like plodding.

Because at the end of the day, consistency is nothing but walking in circles with pride. Donkeys are brilliant at that. Humans? We were built for detours, leaps, and the occasional misstep that takes us somewhere new.

If consistency makes you feel proud, just remember - donkeys are the gold medalists of consistency. Be human. Be inconsistent, intelligently.

About the Author

Power of Prayer - Satish’s Silent Strength

 

Satish and the Silent Strength

Satish was a middle-aged executive living in a busy metro city. He lived in a small but neat apartment with his wife Anjali, a schoolteacher, and their cheerful ten-year-old daughter, Uma. Life was simple. Mornings were a rush of tiffins, school bags, and office bags. Evenings were filled with homework, dinner, and laughter.

Satish had a bad back. Some days were better, some worse. But he never complained. He managed with a smile, a hot water bag, and the quiet support of his loving family. His life wasn’t perfect, but he always said, “God has given me more than I deserve.”

Every morning, before the world woke up, Satish spent ten minutes at his tiny prayer corner. A small lamp, a few idols, and a well-worn copy of the Bhagavad Gita rested there. He would sit cross-legged, close his eyes, and chant softly. It wasn’t a long ritual - just a few minutes of silence and surrender.

His wife once asked him, “Do you think all this really changes anything?”
He smiled and replied, “Maybe not outside, but it changes everything inside.”

Satish believed in the power of prayer - not as a way to ask for miracles, but as a way to find strength. On tough days, when his back hurt or work overwhelmed him, those few minutes helped him stay calm. He didn’t pray to avoid problems. He prayed to face them better.

On weekends, he took Uma to a nearby temple. Not for long sermons, but just to sit in silence. “Listen to your breath,” he would say. “That’s where peace begins.” Slowly, Uma started to enjoy those moments. She would light a diya and whisper a small wish. Sometimes for her exams. Sometimes for her mother’s health.

Prayer became a habit in their home. It wasn’t loud or elaborate. It was quiet, sincere, and filled with gratitude. Even during festivals, their rituals were simple. Aarti, sweets, and prayers said with love.

One day, Satish had a bad spasm. He had to stay in bed for a week. But he never seemed frustrated. He smiled, prayed, and even guided Uma through her studies lying down. “This too shall pass,” he whispered, as his fingers gently touched his prayer beads.

When he recovered, his doctor remarked, “Your positivity really helps with healing.”
Satish simply nodded. He knew where that strength came from.

Prayer didn’t take away his back pain or solve every problem. But it gave him clarity, patience, and peace. It helped him stay kind when he was tired, and hopeful when things went wrong.

For Satish, prayer was not about asking. It was about thanking. It was not about changing life. It was about changing how he lived it.

And in that quiet strength, Satish discovered life’s true power.

About the Author

 

The Joys of Joint Family Living An Indian Perspective

 

Where Generations Meet: A Joint Family Story from the City

The Quiet Joys of Joint Family Life

In the heart of a busy metro, tucked into a modest 2 BHK apartment, lives the Iyer family - Arvind, Geetha, their two young children Gayatri and Vijay, and Arvind’s widowed mother. Like many middle-class households, their flat is compact, the days are full, and time is always in short supply. Yet, within those four walls exists a warmth that many larger homes often lack - a vibrant joint family life, quietly flourishing in the bustle of urban India.

With both Arvind and Geetha working full-time, the support of Arvind’s mother - “Amma,” as everyone calls her - is invaluable. But her role goes far beyond just being a helping hand. She’s the anchor that holds the family together. Whether it’s making sure Vijay finishes his breakfast or gently oiling Gayatri’s hair before school, Amma’s presence adds a sense of calm continuity to the everyday chaos.

Nine-year-old Gayatri, a spirited and curious girl, attends both vocal music and painting classes after school. On most evenings, the home comes alive with her singing "Rara Venu Gopabala” while Amma gently corrects her shruti, occasionally pausing to say, “Sareeram thaan mukkiyam - voice should come from here,” tapping her chest with a knowing smile. Cultural roots, passed on not through lectures, but through moments like these.

Joint family living, as seen in this home, is a practical arrangement, yes - but it is also deeply emotional. It allows children to grow up not only with their parents' guidance but also with the wisdom of a previous generation. Gayatri and Vijay don’t just hear bedtime stories; they hear tales of how festivals were celebrated in villages, how rice was measured in padi, and why diya lighting must be done from east to west. These are life lessons not found in school books or on tablets.

Daily life is a shared responsibility. Amma folds clothes while Arvind handles the monthly bills. Geetha and Amma take turns managing kitchen duties, often blending modern food choices with traditional recipes. Yes, there are occasional disagreements - on screen time, on food habits, on bedtime routines - but these are handled with gentle negotiation and old-fashioned porumai (patience).

Festivals become full-family affairs. Whether it’s Navratri kolu, Deepavali crackers, or Pongal rangolis, celebrations are more than just rituals - they become bonding experiences. Shared tasks, shared laughter, shared memories.

Of course, joint families aren’t without challenges. Space is limited, tempers may sometimes flare, and privacy can be elusive. But what often goes unnoticed is the emotional abundance - children feel more secure, elders feel valued, and working parents feel less overwhelmed.

In a time when nuclear families are seen as the default, the Iyer household stands as a gentle reminder: sometimes, joy isn’t found in extra rooms or bigger kitchens - it’s found in togetherness. In laughter echoing through narrow hallways. In traditions passed down by word and by hand. And in the quiet knowledge that when life gets difficult, you’re never truly alone.

About the Author

A Friday Afternoon at S&Co. - Hobby Time

 

The Hidden Strength in a Hobby

A Friday Afternoon at S&Co.

It was a rainy Friday noon at S&Co., that familiar pause before the weekend begins. Srini and his partner / brother Vaidy had stepped out for a long client meeting, and they would head home directly after. The office had wrapped up most of the week’s work, and a sense of ease settled over the team.

In the pantry corner, with cups of chai in hand, the team members gathered - Jagruti, Manoj, Sunil, Pooja, Prajakta, Dhawal, and Tabassum. What began as casual conversation turned unexpectedly thoughtful.

Jagruti leaned against the counter and asked, “Do any of you even have hobbies anymore? Or have we all become work machines?”

Pooja laughed, “Feels like the only hobby we have is replying to client emails!”

“But it’s true,” Prajakta said, “We talk about work-life balance, but when was the last time we actually did something just for joy?”

That’s when Dhawal spoke up, “You know, I’ve always admired how Srini Sir and Vaidy Sir manage their personal time. Srini Sir writes blogs, reads regularly, indulges in music classes and goes on treks. And Vaidy Sir runs marathons and gives motivational talks!”

“Wow, I didn’t know that,” said Tabassum, surprised.

“And during the year, they head out for atleast one major trek in the Himalayas. They say it clears their head.”

Pooja mused, “So hobbies don’t have to be complicated. They just have to bring joy.”

“Exactly,” said Manoj. “Some hobbies are active - like running or trekking. Others are passive - like reading or listening to music. Some people like to paint, others like to cook or write.”

“Even watching movies could be a hobby,” said Tabassum, “if you do it with intention, like exploring world cinema or understanding filmmaking.”

Prajakta added, “And hobbies help you discover sides of yourself that your professional life may never touch. It’s where you reconnect with you.”

Dhawal nodded, “Sir once said hobbies are like vitamins for the soul - something you don’t realise you need until you stop having them.”

Sunil smiled, “It’s like an SIP for your emotional well-being.”

As the clock ticked closer to 6, there was a quiet sense of resolve in the air. The team began to pack up for the day, each one reflecting inwardly. Gardening, sketching, music, running, journaling - perhaps the weekend could be more than just rest. It could be a return to something forgotten.

As they stepped out of the office, Jagruti turned and said, “Let’s actually do this - revive one hobby this weekend. Even if it's just for 30 minutes.”

“Done,” said Prajakta. “This weekend is for us.”

And with that, the staff of S&Co. stepped into the Friday evening - not just looking forward to the break, but to rediscovering what once made them feel alive.

About the Author

The Comic Book Corner: How One Family Rewrote Learning at Home

How Comics Changed Our Kids' World

It was a rainy Sunday morning in their modest two-bedroom flat in Dombivli. The power had just come back after a short cut, and Bala was already busy in the kitchen preparing hot poha and masala tea. Sundar sat cross-legged on the floor with a few tattered comic books spread before him.

"Chotu, get off that mobile! You're only six - your eyes are too precious," Bala called from the kitchen. Jaya, now eight, had already learned to tune out YouTube shorts, but her ten-year-old brother Arvind was still deeply curious about every new "educational" app.

But today was different.

Sundar, an accountant who secretly adored the Tinkle comics of his childhood, had a plan. “Let’s make this our Comic Sunday,” he declared. “No screens till dinner. Instead, I want all of you to pick a comic and read.”

There were protests. Groans. Bargaining. But within an hour, all three kids were sprawled across the floor, flipping pages of Amar Chitra Katha, Suppandi, and Chacha Chaudhary.

What began as a reluctant compromise soon turned into wide-eyed excitement.

“Did you know Tenali Raman was actually a real court jester?” Arvind blurted out. “And he was super smart!”

“That elephant can talk!” Chotu giggled, pointing at a panel in Panchatantra.

For Sundar and Bala, this wasn’t just about entertainment. It was a conscious parenting choice. They believed that learning shouldn’t always come from screens or textbooks. Comics, they discovered, offered a bridge between fun and knowledge.

For instance, Bala noticed how comics made even the trickiest topics accessible. “Remember how Arvind struggled to understand planets last week?” she said to Sundar. “Look at this comic - it shows the solar system with dialogues between planets. Suddenly it all makes sense to him!”

Sundar nodded. “It’s visual learning. Comics break down complex ideas with pictures. The kids don’t just read - they see and imagine.”

But the biggest surprise? Jaya, once hesitant with long paragraphs, now devoured comics panel by panel. Her confidence in reading grew, and she even began creating her own comic strips using crayons and school notebooks.

Bala smiled proudly, “She’s not just reading. She’s thinking creatively.”

By the end of the month, the family had set up a small “Comic Library” in the corner of their living room. A shoebox became the comic book shelf, and every weekend was now “Comic Hour.” Neighbours began donating old comics. Soon, it wasn’t just about reading - it was about connecting through stories.

Their home wasn’t quiet anymore - it buzzed with laughter, debates over characters, and questions about history and mythology. Most importantly, it was a home where learning was led by curiosity, not compulsion.

In a world flooded with screens, the humble comic book had carved a space of its own - right in the heart of Sundar and Bala’s home.

About the Author

Old Benches, New Beginnings - A School Alumni Story

Old Benches, New Beginnings

A School Alumni Story

It was a breezy Saturday afternoon when six friends from school met again - after decades. The reunion was courtesy of the school’s alumni association, and the air was thick with nostalgia as they stood near the old banyan tree that once shaded their childhood antics.

“Can you believe this place hasn’t changed a bit?” laughed Rakesh, the class clown turned corporate consultant.

“Except that we have changed a lot,” added Maya, who now runs a chain of bakeries, remembering how she once struggled to raise her hand in class.

But the biggest surprise of all stood slightly apart, greeting people warmly, clipboard in hand. It was Arvind - the same Arvind who once preferred the last bench, avoided eye contact, and barely spoke unless asked.

“Guys, do you recognise him?” whispered Sangeeta, nudging Anil.

They all turned. Neatly dressed, confident and smiling, Arvind approached them.

“Hello everyone!” he said, shaking hands and hugging each one.

“Wait... Arvind? Our Arvind?” gasped Anil. “What transformation is this!?”

They all burst into laughter, and Arvind smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I know. I was invisible back then. I guess it took me years - and this alumni association - to come into my own.”

He explained how he had initially joined the association just to stay connected. But over time, he began helping with events, organizing small sessions, and gradually found his voice. Today, he was a Director of the alumni association, passionately working to give back to the school that shaped him.

“Just last month,” he said, “we hosted a lecture for students. The topic was ‘Be Happy, Don’t Worry’. Mr. Ramdas Shenoy, a dynamic speaker, spoke about leadership and communication with live demos and an open Q&A. The energy in that room was unbelievable!”

“I was just a part of the organizing team,” he continued, “but seeing those students - so excited, inspired - it felt like my contribution, however small, meant something.”

The friends listened, amazed.

“What made you do all this?” asked Maya.

Arvind paused. “Honestly? I realised that the school gave us more than just textbooks and exams. It gave us a foundation. I wanted to pay it forward, to help others find their confidence earlier than I did.”

Their conversation flowed as they strolled through the corridors, now lined with posters of past alumni events - job fairs, mentorship programs, community services, cultural get-togethers.

Anil nodded thoughtfully. “You know, I never thought of joining the alumni. But now, I feel like I’ve missed out.”

“You haven’t,” Arvind said warmly. “There’s always room for one more. It’s more than nostalgia - it’s a support system. A place to learn, share, and give back.”

As the sun began to set, the six friends sat together on the school steps, reliving memories and dreaming new ones - this time, not just as students, but as proud members of something larger.

And somewhere in that golden light, a quiet sense of belonging settled in.

About the Author

Redefining True Wealth

 

What Being Rich Really Means – A Night by the Lake

It had been years since the three friends had spent time together. Life, as usual, had taken over-jobs, families, responsibilities. But one breezy Friday evening, Amit, Raghav, and Sameer decided to escape the noise of their routines and camp overnight by a serene lake on the outskirts of town.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the fire crackled softly, they settled into their foldable chairs, mugs of warm tea in hand, watching the water shimmer in the moonlight.

Amit, the government employee, broke the silence. “You know, lately I’ve been wondering, what does it really mean to be rich?”

Sameer, the self-employed one, chuckled. “Coming from a tax officer, that’s a loaded question.”

“No, seriously,” Amit smiled. “We chase promotions, better homes, fancier gadgets, bigger cars... but does that really make us rich?”

Raghav, who worked in a private tech firm, nodded. “I get what you mean. My job pays well, but sometimes I feel like I’m just running. Emails, deadlines, KPIs... Then I met this retired couple recently - Mr. and Mrs. Arvind. They live simply, spend their days gardening and volunteering, and they just radiate contentment.”

“I know people like that,” said Sameer. “They may not have big bank balances, but they sleep peacefully. They have time for themselves, for others, for life.”

Amit poked at the fire thoughtfully. “Maybe true wealth isn’t about having more, it’s about having enough. Enough to cover your needs, but more importantly, enough time and freedom to live life on your terms.”

“Exactly,” Raghav said. “Like, I’d trade a big bonus for the ability to take my daughter camping on a weekday. Experiences matter more than possessions.”

Sameer added, “For me, being rich is about autonomy. Being self-employed has its challenges, but I can work around my passions. That freedom - that’s wealth.”

“And relationships,” Amit said. “What’s the point of luxury if you’re lonely or too busy to enjoy it with the people you love?”

Raghav nodded. “Also, gratitude. When I stop to appreciate what I already have like my health, my family, even this night with you guys - I feel incredibly wealthy.”

The moon now sat high above the lake, casting silver ripples across the still water. The air was quiet, filled only with the sound of crickets and the occasional rustle of the breeze through the trees.

Sameer leaned back and smiled. “So maybe being rich isn’t just about what you earn but how you live. Having peace, purpose, connection. That’s the real treasure.”

The three sat in silence, letting that truth sink in.

They had come for a break. What they found instead was a moment of clarity, a shared understanding that real wealth isn’t always visible. It’s felt in the heart, in the mind, and in the small joys we too often overlook.

Sometimes, the richest experiences are not bought but found, under starlit skies and beside old friends.

About the Author

It all began with a thought

 

From Mind to Reality: Unveiling the Power of Thought in Shaping Your Life

Renuka was the eldest of four siblings in a small chawl in Thane, a suburb of Mumbai. At 42, her life had been a constant balancing act—managing the home, supporting her younger siblings’ education, and working long hours as a tailor to make ends meet. Dreams, if they ever existed, were buried under responsibilities. Yet, Renuka’s story is not just one of hardship, but of an invisible power—thought—and how it transformed her life.

Growing up, Renuka’s world was a routine of scarcity. Her father, a mill worker, passed away when she was just fifteen. Her mother, a domestic help, left early in the morning and returned only after sunset. Renuka had to drop out of school to care for her siblings. Life demanded sacrifice, not ambition.

But Renuka had one quiet habit that made all the difference—she thought. She thought of a better life, not in grand terms, but in images. A small home of her own. A clean kitchen where she could cook in peace. Her siblings getting good jobs. And above all, she pictured herself smiling, strong, and independent.

Initially, these were just daydreams during her late-night stitching. But over time, she noticed something strange—her decisions began aligning with those thoughts. She started saving small amounts, learning about government schemes and women’s self-help groups. She enrolled in free online tailoring tutorials, even though she could barely manage a smartphone. She began to say “no” to underpaid work and “yes” to small bulk orders that paid better.

Five years passed. Her younger sister became a nurse. Her two brothers found jobs at a local logistics company. Renuka, still living modestly, now ran a small tailoring unit from her rented home, employing three other women from her neighborhood.

When asked what changed, Renuka smiled, “Nothing outside. Everything inside.”

The mind, as she learned through her journey, is a powerful creator. Every thought carries energy. When repeated with belief and clarity, those thoughts shape decisions, fuel courage, and attract opportunities.

Science supports this too—what we repeatedly think influences our neural pathways, behavior patterns, and eventually, our reality. It’s not magic, it’s mental muscle.

Renuka’s story is a reminder that we don’t need wealth to dream, or status to believe. We need thought—clear, focused, and persistent thought.

In a world that teaches us to survive, Renuka quietly taught herself to shape her life. Not through luck or sudden miracles, but through the slow, steady power of thought.

What are you thinking today? Could it be the beginning of your tomorrow?

About the Author

5 Habits that Changed their life

 

How One Couple Reclaimed Their Health and Happiness

Meet Kausthub and Jaya, a middle-aged couple living in suburban Mumbai. Like many in their 40s, life had become a routine — work, responsibilities, and the occasional family gathering. Over the years, they had gradually drifted into a sedentary lifestyle, surviving on restaurant takeaways, endless screen time, and little physical activity. Their health reflected it: Kausthub was diagnosed with borderline diabetes, and Jaya often complained of fatigue and joint pain.

It wasn’t always like this. In their youth, they were active, energetic, and full of life. One evening, after a routine doctor visit ended with a stern warning, they decided it was time for a change. What followed was a transformation that not only improved their physical health but also brought new purpose into their lives.

Here are five changes they made — and how these steps helped them reclaim their well-being:

1. Prioritising Daily Exercise

The first and most crucial step was simply moving more. They started with 30-minute morning walks in the nearby park. Initially slow and awkward, these walks soon became invigorating. Kausthub began to lose weight, his sugar levels stabilised, and Jaya found her energy levels improving. Within months, walking turned into light jogging, and later, they even joined a neighbourhood yoga class. Movement brought back vitality.

2. Eating Clean and Mindfully

Gone were the late-night snacks and weekend binge sessions. The couple embraced home-cooked, balanced meals. They reduced carbs, added more vegetables and fruits, and limited their sugar and oil intake. Jaya took a special interest in nutrition, learning how to prepare homemade dishes in healthier ways. With better food came better sleep and a stronger immune system.

3. Hydration and Sleep

One surprising discovery was the impact of proper hydration and sleep hygiene. Kausthub, who once functioned on 4–5 hours of sleep, started getting a full 7 hours. They both began drinking at least 2–3 litres of water daily. Improved hydration and sleep helped reduce Jaya’s frequent headaches and gave both a sense of mental clarity and calmness.

4. Regular Health Checkups

They made it a point to have annual health checkups. Instead of fearing the results, they now saw these visits as checkpoints in their journey. With regular monitoring, they caught minor issues early, avoiding larger problems.

5. Being Each Other’s Health Partner

Perhaps the most beautiful outcome was how they became accountability partners. When one felt lazy, the other pushed gently. They celebrated small wins — a drop in blood pressure, a new yoga pose, or a guilt-free festive meal. This mutual support strengthened their bond as much as it improved their health.

Along this journey, they also explored simple spiritual practices — 10 minutes of meditation and listening to daily prayers. It grounded them, helping reduce stress and resist temptations like alcohol or junk food. As Kausthub says, "Spirituality gave us strength from within - not just to avoid bad habits, but to live with purpose."

Today, Kausthub and Jaya aren't just healthier; they're happier. Their story reminds us that it’s never too late to reclaim your health — one step, one meal, one habit at a time.

About the Author