Mining Memories

Recently, I had the opportunity to conduct a poetry writing workshop for a group of Gurukuli boys. One of the activities was to create acrostics using their own names, a fun and engaging exercise to help them express their self-identity. What struck me the most during this activity was the contrast between what I had expected and what actually unfolded. When the younger children began, they chose adorable and positive adjectives—nothing surprising there. But as I moved on to the older boys, around 10 years and above, I noticed something quite remarkable. Instead of selecting grandiose or exaggerated words to describe themselves, they opted for words that reflected a sense of self-awareness. Some boys described themselves as "distracted" or "dutiful," and even one child chose "annoying" and "obnoxious" for his acrostic. What caught me off guard was how genuinely comfortable they were with these terms—not in a self-deprecating or negative way, but

Warning: This one is a lengthy blog, but I hope you'll take a moment to dive in—meaningful insights are waiting for you!  We often think of peace and stillness as something that can only be found in quiet, serene environments—far removed from the chaos of daily life. Yet, sometimes, peace finds us in the most unexpected places, like the midst of a crowded Mumbai local train. On my recent trip to Mumbai, I found my health and routine thrown off balance by erratic eating and sleeping patterns. It was becoming overwhelming, as some of us seem to age differently, and the fast pace was taking a toll. One afternoon, I decided to head back to the farm—my sanctuary—at any cost. Without much thought, I packed my bags with essentials: clothes, laptop, yarns, and a few snacks, and made my way to the station for a 4 PM train to Dahanu.   The scene at the station was chaotic: a bustling, overcrowded platform and a train filled to the brim. Yet, in that moment, fuelled by an adrenaline rush, I p