Draw a perfect circle. Use a compass or a plotter. Now, zoom in. If you zoom in close enough, you’ll discover that it’s not a perfect circle at all. In fact, anything we create, at close enough magnification, isn’t perfect. It’s foolish to wait until you’ve made something that’s perfect, because you never will. The alternative is to continue to move toward your imaginary ideal, shipping as you iterate. Getter better is the path to better.
Ruts don’t dig themselves. Most of the time, we’re in a rut because that’s precisely where we put ourselves. Actions become habits, and habits get repeated because they feel safe. The easiest way to make things more interesting is to simply stop repeating your habitual behavior. And that often comes from reacting to triggers. Remove the triggers and you can alter the habits. Tiny changes. Different ways to keep score. Tomorrow comes daily. But we don’t have to take the same route to get there.
Even after thinking about doing something daily, one ends up doing it, achieving it, finishing it only in the head. In the head is good, as it creates enough compound interest in head but it is not good enough. I have had ups and downs, and have been away from home for some time. I was in Kashmir when article 370 was taken off. I was one of the last person to have trekked the majestic Amarnath ji this year. Without any plan or any inclination to have wanted to do it but surrendering to flow of life is such it takes you along on the paths, and you would enjoy. I fell in love with the harmony of the few people who walked along, some saints barefoot, and two without a leg who finished approximately sixty kilometres in as many days as I did. Food, sweets, tea, love and the name of shiva. But the feeling was erratic even then. Tents, people were leaving a month before. And many had already left. The way …
The skin is darker inside. I have been stretching every morning now. It stays at that. When five blue pills arrived the water came out of the old cooler. Cows were inappropriately fed. But I was thinking of my new shoe who had holed my ankle. The long walk is coming. For it I had to buy phone. The sun of delhi pierced the enthusiasm of a young man. But by the evening like you, the one reading this I started to find again the voice of the self.
At last the drive came to a halt. But much before it ended, the end was visible. You came to my home without knocking. Either you must be my son, or you should be a thief. My wife is no more on my tongue. She lives with me but I no longer like her body’s smell. Her face no longer makes me smile. And I love it.
Anyone who in coming weeks, months or years comes across this post, must know that we are always on a look out for someone who is happy and wants to share a bit of his/her joy with children and women. Ones who are carrying colors, words, artists, illustrators, designers, Photographers and filmmakers, theatre artists and the ones in academia are wholeheartedly welcome. They must come and teach to learn, share with the ones who altogether are the ones making a fabric of our society.