I didn’t know until I saw this on twitter or some platform (matrimony?) that podcast is a thing. This took further interest when Elon Musk showed up on a podcast lit a joint that was talked over the social media. I started watching (listening) podcast since the COVID-19 lockdown went into place. I watched a lot in the beginning from the Joe Rogan (YouTube). His podcasts cover wide array of people such as finance, comic artists, sportspersons, movie actors, economics, professional poker players, any field, any genre. He can talk to anyone for long durations; I think the longest I heard was close to three hours. I absolutely love the way he gets into the conversations, he without any long pauses or any other fillers moves back to the point he initially had wanted to. The podcast shapes like a water in a vase, any form as long as the water keeps flowing in it will transform. Even if he doesn’t have deep interest in anyone’s field he would still be able to get details, a superficial idea o

Books in 2019

Hello there all, It has been ages I've had made any post. I've been extremely held up with lives on professional as well as personal front. Of all the things I'm still doing is slowly and slowly reading books. I had decided to chuck book-list but I am going to go against it for no reasons whatsoever. I read following books in my available time in the year 2019: Drug war politics: the price of denial Troublemaker by Linda Regan Adam bede by George Elliot The ragged edge of night by Olivia Hawker Pelican by John Grisham Going home by  Nora Roberts Shalimar the clown by Salman Rushdie A polish doctor in the nazi camps by Barbara Rylko-Bauer   In shock by Rana Awdish If I look at it, it is less than one book a month that is an abysmally low count by any measure. Year 2020 is no where going to be close to this list as I picked some long and old books that are considered classics and all time best. It took a great deal of me to complete them.  Let us hope this year end on a good

Morning laughs

I woke up late for work, in July oppressive,  muggy New York area heat. I caught jitney bus to port authority bus terminal as usual to catch subway. I landed in the back seat, always the back bencher since ages. I sit and involuntarily a person greets, exchange pleasantries in Spanish. I respond in Spanish, I only know two, three words and they do put smile on other when put and replied for exchanging greetings. He suddenly changes language and hello again, we both laugh. He was sipping coffee, I ask how it is, fine he replied. As conversation ignited he asked where am I from I responded India. The conversation furthered, traffic was notorious as was the day. He asks if I drink coffee, I told no, tea is my to-go; coffee is A-OK. He continued saying his country got tea from India (he turned out from Turkey), as I told him it was British rule that brought in India. Meanwhile he tells what and how tea in Turkish is pronounced, written with a tick beneath C in Chai , so and so forth. He w

Should have kept pen and paper

I was running around on Friday, June 21, beginning of summer solstice. I was perspiring by the time I got hold of things from cafeteria. I had a check-list for Friday, after an hour or so quickly walked down athletics department to empty my locker rom. The deadline was June 30 as the session starts in July end or something, until then all the lockers need to be emptied.  I was in rush, to get back to my seat to complete the week. In this hurry I saw 2004 Nobel Prize winner. I had had seen him few times earlier on-campus, in a seminar or crossing streets. This time I wanted to speak with him, just for a conversation, have his autograph. I stopped, thought multiple times and the process got stuck. He was holding a folder with multiple pages, wearing suit-tie in black and white color. Inevitably I went ahead and said "excuse me". I mumbled few words to confirm if he were Dr. who got Nobel prize. He graciously nodded. I rummaged myself for pen and paper for an autograph, of cou

Another circle of life?

Date 06/11/2019 Back in 2010 or so I used to visit an NGO; that used to assist kids with special needs. I and few of my friends were part of a group to meet kids, teach, spend time with them. These kids had genetic disorders, learning disabilities and such. Again, and again we taught them A-Z, or 0-9, or names kid would fail next day or next minute, splitting heart into smithereens. I didn't recall a day where my eyes didn't well up there; I was torn apart, as I was in tears. I wasn't strong enough to face them. After these sessions I used to get back to routine, fun as it was the end of my college education, again cycle continued. I visited the NGO once a week and as time went the visits got sparser; I didn't visit in later months of my under-graduate college. I couldn't summon courage to visit or insincerity got better of me. These days I work at a research-based, academic-hospital setting. I see loads of kids with severe genetic disorder, kids with spec

Appearance is reality

Recently, I am watching Designated Survivor TV series on Netflix. To give a backdrop it's a political thriller based out of Washington DC, USA, where the entire government is assassinated save two-three people. From these remaining, one gets to become the President of the United States (POTUS). The drama then begins chasing culprit, closing in on leads, betrayals within the government so and so forth. The series also spans on political challenges one administrator faces such as tabling of a bill, domestic issues of violence (gun), etcetera. Amidst all scandals, politicking, bills the ruling office hires someone who can direct and improve overall public image of ruling party. The hired professional says appearance is reality. He goes to back and forth with his prolix language to have POTUS agree to his. After watching episode and in last few weeks having digressive discussion over this I have starting to believe this more and more. It's all about packaging. There are certain


I grew up in a city, studied in an English medium school, went in a school bus, had access to high-end facilities at school such as library, playground and such. For me saying "My name is so and so" was easier than cutting cake, mention my father's name, address, city in English; I was adored in my village more than two decades back. It was unheard of someone who can say one line in English.  Village where access to electricity is somewhat equivalent to water accessibility in cities like Bangalore in summers, now. There would have been successive days where one had had electricity for say more than five hours. To me back in city it was rare to have electricity shed except summers, or early mornings. I can say I had had a fancied childhood, a fortunate one. Touch wood. In summers I played marbles, did mischiefs all around in weddings, house inauguration, looked at night full of stars, made wishes for good marks in grade exams gazing at falling stars, wondered at shift of