The Dreamer's Diary

In an era characterized by rampant social media usage and an unwavering desire for validation, the phenomenon of crafting carefully curated self-images has pervaded the landscape of modern life. Individuals often become ensnared in the relentless pursuit of acceptance, dedicating untold hours to constructing facades that resonate with societal expectations and professional standards.  Ironically, this endeavor not only leads to a profound sense of disconnection from one’s true self but also jeopardizes the intrinsic essence of life—authenticity, joy, and self-worth. As we navigate the complexities of our existence, examining how we squander the invaluable commodity of time in the pursuit of a mirage of social and professional acceptance becomes paramount. The first aspect of this disillusionment lies in the relentless need for validation. Social media platforms serve as both enablers and amplifiers of this desire. Daily, we are bombarded with images of perceived perfection—glossy l...

India, like many other Asian and European countries, has a long and enriching history, tradition, and culture, which have captivated the interest of history lovers, researchers, and explorers around the world. As we sit in the 21st century, enjoying modern facilities, it can be truly fascinating to imagine the stories of the nomads, travellers, traders, and conquerors of the past, who journeyed on foot, horseback, and ships from far-flung corners of the globe. The evolution of human history, from the cave age to the modern era, in terms of knowledge, science, awareness, and research, is nothing short of remarkable. However, the curse of superstition and religion and greed for power has often led a section of people to manipulate the stories of the past to maintain control over a large portion of the population. In India, the constant hammering of concepts like "tradition," "past culture," customs, social norms, and, of course, "religion" (the strongest t...

 And then I thought... And then I thought I owed him. I owe that little boy. I owe those innocent eyes that never used to stop dreaming. I owed a debt to that young, innocent soul whose dreamlike eyes would gaze in wonder at the vibrant leaves, playfully tease the snails after a fresh summer rain, the soul that so often lose itself within the pages of Tintin, Fantom comics. Those bedtime stories and summer holiday books...That boy would embark on nightly adventures teaming up with Tarzan, Famous Five, or Feluida, traveling to distant lands, befriending new companions, exploring untamed forests and scaling majestic peaks, or by the warm glow of a campfire in the Amazon.  I thought I owed it to him – that wide-eyed youth who had not yet been jaded by the trials of life. Life has been better than many - through the familiar trappings of success – the corporate climb, all those pressures of deadlines and targets, the late nights, the promotions and resignations, the moments o...