Why spray painting is also about training your mind? OR Challenging it…you be the judge!

If you have been glancing at my DIY submissions about the weird and often excessively adventurous trials and tribulations that are usually about Home Improvement, Home Repairs, DIY Builds, and Unwanted Landscaping, this discussion will not surprise you. Now, one of the most recurring aspects of my DIY voyages has been painting. This started with the usual route of buying an acrylic paint, a bottle of turpentine oil to dilute the paint, and a standard painting brush. The strokes were going well, the results were beginning to impress, and the compliments, though scanty, had started to surface. Just when I thought that my brush journey had started, I got this idea about spray painting. The thought was actually an afterthought, a few days after I had gotten the rear bumper of my aging Maruti Swift painted.

DIY Anxiety Explorations: it is not generalized, not GERD, not Acute or Extreme!

This blog is a testament to my anxious soul, my habit of overthinking things, and being a bit volatile. For a long time, I had been believing that there is nothing really new about anxiety issues, about the anxiety of any type that I have not experienced. But September was a rude awakening and a realization that I did not see coming. This time, I have experienced anxiety in its most unusual way. Think of it as some sort of shakiness or feeling unsettled despite not worrying about anything, without obsessing over things around me. This bout of anxiety is very subtle, but it remains in the system for the day. A few lone moments or working on some DIY project where my mind wanders around a bit can bring it on. This is the most spontaneous form of anxiety that is not about meeting new people or handling new situations. Many times, it comes up when there is nothing disturbing me at the moment, even when I am not fixating on the small imperfections, I tend to notice a bit too much.

It is present when I am doing the everyday tasks, the daily duties, and still, it manages to surface, making me a bit shaky. This is not Generalized Anxiety, for I understand it rather well. This does not feel anxious due to something bothering me subconsciously. The feeling can be very unsettling. It is new to me despite having experienced this problem for more than a decade. I had been talking about it and trying to explain it even before talking about anxiety and mental health issues became cool. Even worse is the fact that this undefined anxiety surfaced at a time when there were birthdays to celebrate, and I had to undertake abstinence from all types of alcohol. Perhaps, the mind dug a bit too much into elders in the family being old, very old, and some passing away. Perhaps, the mind was unconsciously concerned about the cycle of Life and impending Death, which everyone knows and talks about but does not know how to interact with when such incidents actually come calling. No Valium this time around. I am like, "...let us do this without trying to create a fix". Yes, any instance of death in the far-away family circle too starts this bout of anxiety, and it creeps up like a feeling of wire going through my lower legs. 

Reasons why me and Mr. Waffles, representing all waffles known to mankind, are not getting along…

Okay, you like waffles, and you believe that there can be nothing unlikable about them. However, the reality is different. There are plenty of folks like me who just cannot get their mind around what seems like a rehash of pancakes, baked cake-like stuff, and crusty pies. Waffles remain elusive to me in terms of having a taste, an individual flavor that separates them from the rest. Competitors here include many types of bread and bakery essentials like biscotti or cookies. A waffle is supposed to have a crusty exterior, and the insides are supposed to be warmer and softer. However, the manner in which waffles are served these days means that the outer surfaces are already overwhelmed with many sauces and flavoring bits. The outside crust is already lost. The more you try to dice and mix up the fruits and creams, the more waffles are likely to lose its individuality, not that it really have a unique identity to preserve.

Are we trying too desperately to make serveware Boho-chic or something laidback?

I recall this scene from Kill Bill, where Daryl Hannah is visiting one of her former kill squad members. I think his real name is some Madse,n and I recall the guy from Reservoir Dogs and the Species franchise. This is not about how macho he looks or how the one-eyed portrayal of Hannah was very realistic. This is about them drinking some sort of alcoholic concoction in what seemed like glass jars with handles or without handles, really don’t remember now. But if you look closely, the guy was living in a trailer parked in the middle of some God-forsaken landscape and had nothing in terms of lifestyle goods or accessories.

Honey, I need some more honey – yes, I eat the warm, gooey thing almost every day!

These days, my wife has started a morning ritual of swallowing a bit of aloe vera juice as soon as I get out of bed. She remembers it, pours it, reminds me about it, and then follows up as to whether I consumed the supposed Digestive tract soothing agent or not. Notwithstanding, discussing her affection for me, this adds one more thing to what I consume every day, to a list that is dominated by Honey. For some reason, I have been having that sticky, amber-colored stuff for years now. I love to spread it on hot, toasted slices along with butter. I dip my digestive biscuits in it. It is also the SOS when sugar cravings hit me badly, and I don’t have the good stuff to satiate the cravings. Other inclusions to the daily regimen include honey in hot water, infused with herbal tea extracts that I carry to the office. I might put some on vanilla ice cream served with almonds and cornflakes. What makes it so good?

Big sandwiches are good but when they turn meal-sized, are we still eating them like a sandwich?

The other day, I was at Burger Place, Rajouri Garden,  and I ordered the double-egg burger. Here, the burger patty was really big. It had been filled with poached eggs and lots of green veggies. The result was a true gastronomic delight. The eggs were slightly mushy and, when pressed slightly, almost hung tightly to either side of the burger buns like some industrial adhesive, and the flowy sauces and cheese things were equally warm and orgasmic. However, I had a small issue. I just couldn’t eat the burger like a burger. It was too big. It was oozing too much of the good stuff. I could not afford to press and kill my vulnerable Patty. And I hate when the cheese starts to drip. So, the solution was finding refuge in a plastic fork and slowly eating away at the hand-sized burger. Did this ruin the taste? Not really. I should say not at all. In fact, having a burger like a plateful of the meal was a refreshing experience. Now, when I compare this with some of the sandwiches I come across in Delhi’s cheese-based eat-out locations, it seems that eating these sandwiches, held up like the traditional way of eating your bread, is not really practical.

Looking over the edge, almost into the infinite that lies below…High Rises can be therapeutic?

Please note that this is not a discussion about how to overcome your fear of heights. This discussion is not meant to be a cure for Acrophobia either. It just tries to put out a word that sometimes what seems scary to others and is generally regarded as being a bit frightening can also be slightly helpful...if you look at it from my perspective. 

I was watching some unknown movie when surfing movie channels and came across this scene of a typical corporate guy, with bow ties and suit, rushing to the terrace of the office building, panting, trying to catch his breath. For a moment, I paused and thought about the overwhelming sense of anxiety that this scene was trying to create. I realized that this dramatic scenario actually presented a reality-check—we are all bitching about the skyscrapers but there are times when these monstrous buildings actually do something rather well. I live on the fifth floor of a residential high-rise and the windiness is still very palpable. Just imagine someone on the 20th+ floor or terrace. The wind must be cutting through with God's speed. Perhaps, these few moments, bent over the rail of a typical skyscraper are akin to catching deep breaths and regathering—something most of us have done at our workplaces. The view from the top is equally breathtaking as long as you don’t hit the terrace every day.

This is not about being vintage, just that More Metal equals More Trust…

One of our overseas migrant friends has been restoring a classic set of four wheels and sharing the images. As expected, there is a lot of automobile wisdom pouring out in response to the data published on social channels. The love for classics and vintage seems to have no boundaries. But when I say this, I must confess that despite my love for cars that were bigger, heavier, and made with the heart, I am not that big on everything that is retro-themed. My love for the bygone era of automobiles stems from the large-scale use of metal, and that is it! There is nothing more, though I like the rich leathers and plenty of glasswork and curvaceous lines.

Being Punju: If it hasn’t been Roasted to a Brownish shade of RED, it is not worth eating…

I keep watching these foods shows about the Mediterranean way of eating and always have borderline dreams that touch upon the idea of at least tasting all these delicacies at least once during one of my dreamy vacations. But the reality? I am a true Punjabi in most ways and the chances of actually biting into stuff that looks half-dead or still has a layer of its actual, wilderness or ocean life are very, very remote. This comes with being a Delhi-bred Punjabi. Our logic with food is rather simple. If you have killed it, roast it to the extent that it loses its identity. I mean the French preparation of marine being is such that sometimes you must get fish that stares right back at you. The other end of the story – if you have pulled it from the ground or plucked it from a tree then undress, cut, slice, dice, fry, simmer, re-fry, and re-heat it until what was once from the plant kingdom now seems like a serving of something mixed in a highly enthusiastic mix of onions and tomatoes. Not doing this every day of your life, not staying true to this way of interpreting food, and not passing judgement on food that hasn’t been prepared in this way is unbecoming of a Delhi-ka-Punjabi.

Still don’t know what that Zoned-out feeling is like but Daytime Zombie-ness? Been there…

I was watching reruns of That '70s Show, and I realized that, unlike the hippie-loving, herbally-explorative folks on the sitcom, I really cannot say that I know the feeling when you are doped to the extent that it seems like metaphysics and the afterlife have mated to create a realm of the unknown. I have had days of Valium excesses, many years back, and some instances of drinking silly, but largely, I have always been in control. Laughing or smirking a lot more than usual, driving a bit crazy, having that dreamy-eyed look – these are things that come close for me. When people talk about being high or having progressed into an alternate universe after doing joints, I am a true alien to the real feeling they are talking about.

Cobblestoned Streets is about a certain type of primitiveness that has been morphed for urban consumption…

The first impressions I had about roads during my childhood years did not come from my parents complaining about the civic apathy when it came to how the city roads are paved or maintained. My impressions were borrowed from the opening sequence of a Sherlock Holmes TV series adapted for a 40-minute show on Sunday mornings. This was during the late 80s, and I was still ascending towards middle school. This sequence had horse-pulled carts and policemen with big, shiny leather boots walking around on stone-paved roads. At this point, I did not know what a cobblestone is or how many European cities maintain their heritage of cobbled streets. This impression has stayed with me, the images still very vivid. The love for stoned roads did not go away, even when I traveled to other cities in India that are doing a lot better than Delhi. Over the years, lots of TV watching helped me realize that the cobble-stoned street is somewhat of a legacy that our European cousins have consciously tried to sustain.

Getting Started with My Bathroom Tile Deco Work Project

I am the definition of a greenhorn when it comes to anything related to being artsy or doing tile-work, but this time around, I found the courage and the gumption to start something that could be potentially disastrous if not done properly. So, I am taking a few minutes to describe what this DIY project is going to be about, and will keep dropping in regular updates:

The Plot

WE are in a bit of disarray and indecision when it comes to refurbishing the bathroom. Our new home is somewhat prone to moisture seepage. There have been repeated rounds of arguments in the building as to how this issue should be tackled. The expenses would be huge, and invariably, all inhabitants of the apartment building would need to contribute a lot more than what they are paying as the monthly security and maintenance amount. This is the biggest issue, too, when it comes to setting up the scaffolding and starting the critical, structural re-strengthening repairs.

Miracles from Heaven - not a great movie, perhaps a FAITH booster!

 

This is about Faith, the struggle, how to reconnect, and wait out the worst

If you Google the title, you will find a description along the lines of "Miracles from Heaven is a 2016 American Christian comedy drama...", but this might be the worst way to indicate the plot or the story that will unfold. I had my reasons to watch the movie. I am a big Jennifer Garner fan. I believe she has been the most perfect performer to have appeared across Hollywood productions, but with very little credit. As a movie summary, Miracles from Heaven speaks about a girl with an impossible-to-treat to treat type of digestive or intestinal disorder. Given my history of IBS and my recurring collisions with Faith, it made a lot of sense to watch Miracles from Heaven via my Amazon Prime account. The movie is not spectacular in any way. It does not get preachy, and neither is the plot too over-dramatic. Garner puts in a splendid performance, but there are moments when she oversteps into unwanted hysterics.

DIY Silicone Lessons via DIY Struggles in Handling Industrial Strength Compounds

I have been paying my dues in the niche of silicone adhesives - you might have read my first discussion about using these rather high-on-DIY spirit compounds that make life a lot easier for guys like me who are just getting around how to do small mend jobs around the house. Our living space is rather big for just two folks. The society here has been lethargic in its upkeep. As a result, many irritating things like small cavities and damp spots continue to bother us. This time, I have been proactive in using materials that I can easily buy from Amazon to turn into some sort of handyman, closer to what constitutes the definition of a family man for me. With some weeks of constant jobs and testing, I have concluded some handy information for you, i.e., if you want to understand how useful silicone can be provided you are using the right type, and yes, there are types here to handle:

What must globally envied Italian locations look like to a Punjabi in Delhi?

Be Bear-Y Patient to Read this...that strange Men-Bear Connection!

Don't Weird it Up by Drawing Comparisons with Me!

Please understand that this is not about the Papa Bear paradox that my teammates once invented - the image and the discussion is not about me in any way. It is about an image along with some childhood moments that flashed in my mind, and I had to blog about it - needless to say, am a chronic thinker and writer of sorts. I remember this picture of a big family of animals and birds seated together, getting ready for supper. However, the most welcoming, warm vibes that I could feel were coming from a big, pokey bear. Why is that?

Reviewing Guess Who – Inspired by Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, without getting Desperate!

There was something very likable, very identifiable with the original – Guess Who Is Coming To Dinner has been repeatedly referred to as a classic. My wife really loved it, while I just liked the movie. In parts, the movie is brilliant. The cast seems like the ideal fit for the story that is really just about a very friction-heavy evening with conversations and arguments explaining everything, leaving very little to doubt. What has been referred to as Sidney Poitier’s best can be remade, but the remake has to be really good—Guess Who comes close to being a remake, but it seems like a more contemporary, spicier version of the original, borrowing the basic plot and keeping the overall treatment very different. Thanks to Ashton Kutcher, the laughs are not contrived. His future father-in-law is Black and dominant in a very literal way, but the performance is rather good.

Reviewing Gurgaon – Not Just another NCR Riches Story or Culture Bashing

Being new to Amazon Prime, we have been somewhat selective in choosing movies, as if the membership is going to hold us guilty for watching too many. We are slowly evolving into a couple that can watch TV for a longer duration, happily seated together, almost stuck like a plug in the socket. For some reason, I want to watch more horror flicks and thrillers, and my Wife wants more Rom-coms. I am discovering a new side to me where I can actually see and appreciate some seriously feminist-ridden stuff. However, this is not the case with Gurgaon—this is not a thriller or a romantic comedy in any way. This movie uses a sadistic plot to say something in the most subtle, almost passive way. It is a cinematic commentary on what transpires among the lives of those who have suddenly found riches around the suburbs of a cosmopolitan, people who knew how to grab, kill, and conquer but seem clueless when it comes to fully utilizing what they have gathered.

Reviewing Jumping the Broom – Not Inspired by Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner

Two black families with very different cultural setups getting together because their children are about to tie the knot – it seems inspired by Guess Who Is Coming to Dinner in some way? Not really, if you are watching Jumping the Broom. The movie is not dramatic, and the emotional plays are reasonable. Not trying to enforce itself as a romantic comedy, this movie is without the rhetoric.

Reviewing Don’t Breathe – Thriller that stands apart from any other, Violent Blind-Man Rendition

I have seen those stupid blind man plots where it seems that anyone who has lost the ability to see can get easy access to supernatural strength and wisdom that only a century-old samurai would otherwise possess. However, Don’t Breathe is not that type of movie. If you like your thrillers to be largely quiet without special effects but with lots of cringing-causing surprises, this is the movie for you.

Noodle Bowl: Crunchy or Soupy? Divided, We Stay Confused

The house is always going to be divided between noodles that are too moist to be picked with a fork and those that are perfect for giving you a mouthful of crunchier textures and that fuller feeling that comes with eating anything that is a bit crusty and layered. I have had issues with slurping noodles or slurping in any other way. The noise can be very irritating. The fact that many people continue to make, serve, and eat noodles in a way that requires a constant pucker-like mouth and sipping big chunks of noodles and meat never fails to make me think.

Inter-dental Comfort: for Folks Cursed with Enlarging In-Between Tooth Spacing

It has been nearly 3 years, and I am still struggling with finding a smarter, more practical solution to neutralize the nuisance of food particles getting lodged between my teeth. My trusted dentist, who seems very overwhelmed by my dental structure, says that I have a teeth constitution that is too complex to have straight answers. I have had my share of dental fillings. Even while filling with the best compounds known to mankind, the attending dental intern was quick to point that given the strange manner in which my teeth are lodged horizontally, the lifespan of these fillings is going to be a big question—what should last for at least one year might not make it beyond the first 3-4 months in my case! I have discovered some things along the way and I guess these will be somewhat helpful to those with a similar problem.

Few words about DDD - Dil Dhadakne Do

If you are expecting a generous sprinkling of words like "awesome" and "must-watch", you just hit the wrong platform. This is my blog, and I tend not to be that unforgiving for any type of content - visual or textual. DDD or Dil Dhadakne Do was watchable because of one big reason - nobody tried to act beyond the scope of their roles. The supporting cast does not look like trying to grab some highlight, right from below the feet of the main cast that has been chosen smartly. Zoya Akhtar has proven again that she can direct a plot that is attuned well to what the Millennials understand. Dil Dhadakne Do is very relatable because of a simple trick, a game that anybody can understand - it borrows situations and ideas and the aftermath(s) of many events from real lives, from everyday lives of people like you and me.

Rooting for Bringing Back the Stupidity in Zombie Movies...nothing artistic about it!

Like everyone curious-eyed teenager, my love for Zombie movies began just around the time when hormonal growth was in the throes and daily testosterone resurgence was making a heavy impact. This meant an unending fascination with primarily white & yellow-faced bodies being slashed, and cut down to smaller pieces where the chopped-away body part often had this individual ability to move around! But somewhere down the line, not due to too much TV, the entire charm with the niche died. Not sure why but I can understand that this has got something to do with ditching the old ways of making Zombie movies, choosing the modern, more digital way of doing things. You see, the charm of Zombie mayhem lies in stupid finishing touches.

Blog, Share, Comment often? NO, you are not close to being a good writer

There is a hidden author in you, this could be the week when you start your globally-awaited journey towards being the novelist that God wanted you to become...thoughts like these will continue to traffic your mind but the fact remains that like most things in life, at least crafts that need every nuance of the trade to be baked with extreme effort, Writing is not that easy! ACCEPTANCE - swallow it if you want to become a better professional writer! You have to wake up and download the reality - there is a huge difference between having a great vocabulary, being bestowed with amazing creativity, and translating thoughts into words. When it comes to more professional, data-driven writing, the challenge is even harder. Here, you need to mold yourself, and many times, the subject might be outright hateful, and you will feel like dropping the ball. Some people, who can just about write a bit, assume that just because they can get paid to blog a bit or author social media snippets, they are on their way to becoming a bestselling author. There are some overnight, fluke & fate-fueled author success stories, but largely, it takes a lot more than a polished formal education or awesome college degrees to write well. There is a massive difference between penning a few paragraphs and writing consistently well, along with ensuring the writing is engaging enough.

UNINTERRUPTED: not the usual tips to become a better writer

Here, you need to understand that drafting an email at the workplace that makes the bosses ponder & smile, writing a love note, or penning an autobiography - all of these are very different forms of writing. Ask a professional writer from a digital agency, and things seem even more perplexing. However, there is one common factor, one skill that is common across all forms of writing, and I mean, writing well - you should be fluent in connecting thoughts, sentence structure, and sustaining connectivity with the subject. You have to hone your skill to the extent that this comes naturally to you, organic enough to the extent that you don't need to stop in between and remind yourself that the last few sentences might have strayed away from the subject. Most amateurs tend to use their minds for collecting thoughts, turning them into words, and then creating a supply chain from the mind to the fingers. This usually takes time and does not move in a fluid, spontaneous manner. This is not what you want!

There should be no downtime when you are writing. Everything that you want to say, express, compile, or communicate should be instantly put on the canvas, and the canvas can be an A4 sheet or a Word document. Writing well consistently needs this mechanism to function like one smooth machine, even on days when the concentration levels are not that high. Writing for the web is very different from the art of creating a script or plotting a movie idea or authoring books, but even these media, no matter how creatively superior, cannot afford someone who takes ages to mature a thought into something that can be punched on the laptop. The ability to write should be as natural an instinct as sweating - the mind, the fingers, and keyboarding efforts should become one cohesive unit, and only small gaps to refuel your mental reserves should create temporary pauses.

VERSATILITY: Usually not counted among the best methods for becoming a better writer

One of my teammates once told me that it was weird that I could write about a dot, a dot that was nowhere to be seen, but still I could story-it-up, mold it into a product description, or get all philosophical about it without taking long sips of coffee or looking bewildered. Does that make me a great writer? NO. Does it make me a good content developer? YES. Does this mean I can write better than you? Probably NOT. Does it mean I have the core skill that it takes to turn into a full-time author, a children's book developer, or a brand story-writer? YES! All forms of writing need a lot of practice before you can get anywhere close to having a style or tone that has some degree of uniqueness. This individuality in your style comes after having practiced the art across many types of media, after having exhausted all the writing tools - classical, contemporary, vintage, and emerging.

ODD SKILLS: usually not shared in online guides to become a good writer

I often share with my team how training myself to type faster was necessary to maintain the flow in my writing. Eventually, I had to join a shady-looking typewriting school to ensure my typing speed could keep up with what my mind was relentlessly pouring. I had to time myself for the maximum output per minute. Here, the outcome that mattered was creating a copy that looked much, much better than a shabbily put-together first draft, grammatically good, if not perfect, and not committing more than a couple of typos. While the mind collates visuals, creates conclusions, and provides the assurance of having understood a subject, your writing shouldn't be stalled - like I said, all of these activities or sub-processes need to gel well, blend in, not camouflage but work like a Mercedes model that might go out-of-production a decade from now but will always rev-up even after years of negligent handling. And yes, something as basic as smooth typing abilities contributes to becoming a better writer.

HANDLING THE UGLY: skills professional content developers should possess 

I had to torture myself to get to a point where, unless the topic was too technically specific, I could write about it in some way with negligible guidance, and still, the copy was never horrible. When your blog or article about anything that you despise or don't connect with most remotely is cerebrally digestible and cannot be called "crap" at the editing table, you have done well. You can now write better. However, you are not anywhere near excellence! You have to pay your dues, digging your fingers into the keyboard because there is no other way around it. Even if you have the gift of glibness, even if you graduated from the best institutions on the planet, there is nothing that guarantees a delectable finesse in your writing.

DUMP PERFECTION: contradicts the usual top tips to become a better writer

You will never be a perfect writer for the web because the audience remains largely susceptible to repeatedly changing its perception. There are very few inborn abilities that can help you flourish in a content development profile - it needs constant exposure to cynical reviews,  which push you harder towards banishing some habits and inculcating new practices. What about the perfect day to start writing with seriousness and with increasing regularity? There is no such thing. There is no ideal day to start practicing. The most horrible days and weeks are just as good as the best. In fact, on days when the psychological fuel is rather low, try to challenge yourself to write about something.

PLENTY OF RAINY DAYS: stop searching for easy ways to become a better writer

Another misconception lies in believing that writing or even casually blogging will always be a creative, rewarding process. This is not always true. Sometimes, you have to get mechanical about it. These are days when the words will not come to your mind. You will feel handicapped in the simplest expressions. Leave alone metaphors or awe-inducing introductory titles, even basic sentences will seem flawed, but you have to challenge your mindset. You have to procure the best from that scanty portion of the mind that is still functioning. Even on such horrible days, you should be able to create five alternate titles for a published or soon-to-be-published write-up in less than 5 minutes! Perhaps not the best day to start your autobiographical account, such days can be used for revisiting the basics of the game and then reflecting on your most recent copies. Not keeping at it means you are breaking away from habits that can transform average expressions into a very likable piece of published work. It is about doing the grind. It will take time, and then, just like Shifu-guided Po, you will realize that there are no secrets...you always had it in you!

THE PUBLIC PERFORMANCE TRAP — Why Visibility Masquerades as Ability

One of the quietest distortions modern writers suffer from is the belief that visibility is evidence of progress. The more one blogs, shares, comments, and reacts, the easier it becomes to confuse participation with mastery. Digital platforms reward motion, not depth. They measure presence, not penetration. As a result, many writers begin mistaking the appearance of being active for the discipline of becoming capable.

This is not arrogance so much as miscalibration. Writing online trains people to externalize unfinished thinking. Drafts are published before they are metabolized. Opinions are released before they are interrogated. The feedback loop is immediate, shallow, and addictive. A comment validates tone, not structure. A share flatters sentiment, not rigor. Over time, the writer’s internal bar erodes. The muscle that once strained toward clarity relaxes, content to be legible rather than exact.

The danger is subtle. Writers who grow inside this ecosystem often feel productive while quietly stagnating. They write often, but rarely wrestle. They publish frequently, but seldom revise deeply. Their sentences move, but they do not carry. This is why prolific output can coexist with arrested development. The craft never demands more than what is already comfortable.

Serious writing requires long stretches of invisibility—hours where nothing is shared, affirmed, or reacted to. It requires tolerating the silence where judgment is internal, not algorithmic. The writer must learn to disappoint the platform to satisfy the page. This is where many falter, because withholding output feels like regression in a culture that equates constant expression with growth.

The irony is sharp: the writers most eager to be seen often delay becoming worth reading. They are busy narrating the journey instead of undergoing it. The discipline your essay circles again and again is not merely technical or emotional—it is epistemic. Knowing when not to publish. Knowing when attention is premature. Knowing that craft matures away from applause. Until that distinction is internalized, blogging will feel like progress, but it will be like motion without accumulation—just sound without any real weight!

IMITATION BEFORE IDENTITY — Why “Finding Your Voice” Is Usually Delayed by Trying to Sound Original

Most writers who speak urgently about “finding their voice” are attempting to skip a phase that cannot be skipped. Voice is not discovered through intention; it is distilled through repetition under constraint. And imitation—often dismissed as uncreative—is the crucible where that distillation begins.

The problem is cultural embarrassment. Modern writers are taught to fear sounding derivative, as though influence were a moral failing rather than a developmental necessity. They try to sound original before they have internalized rhythm, compression, pacing, or argumentative gravity. The result is often prose that is technically legible but emotionally hollow—sentences performing novelty without carrying weight.

Imitation, done honestly, is not mimicry. It is an apprenticeship. It trains the nervous system to recognize cadence, restraint, and proportion. Writers who resist it remain stylistically thin because they have never allowed another intelligence to temporarily inhabit their sentences. They speak too early in their own accent, unaware that an accent without muscle collapses under pressure.

Voice emerges only after the borrowed scaffolding has been exhausted. It arrives not as invention, but as residue—the parts that remain once influence has been metabolized. Writers who rush originality delay this process indefinitely, mistaking self-conscious distinctiveness for identity. What they produce sounds personal, but not inevitable. And inevitably, not novelty is the mark of voice.

THE COMPETENCE PLATEAU — Why Most Writers Never Cross into Authority

There is a point in every writer’s development where improvement stops feeling urgent. The sentences work. The feedback is positive. The output is reliable. This is competence—and it is where most writers stay. Authority requires something competence does not: the willingness to be constrained by accuracy rather than expression. Competent writers optimize for clarity, fluency, and engagement. Authoritative writers subordinate all three to precision. They will sacrifice readability for truth. They will abandon attractive phrasing if it distorts the argument. They understand that authority is earned not through confidence but through disciplined refusal.

What traps writers at competence is reward. The system pays them there. Editors stop pushing. Clients stop questioning. The friction that once forced refinement disappears. Without resistance, sentences no longer sharpen; they merely repeat themselves with polish. Authority demands entering territory where approval thins out. Where fewer people nod along. Where claims must survive scrutiny rather than applause. Many writers avoid this transition not because they cannot make it, but because competence already feels like success. Authority feels lonelier—and riskier—by comparison.

THE EDITING AVERSION — Why Revising Your Own Work Is Psychologically Harder Than Writing It

Writing generates momentum. Editing dismantles it. This asymmetry explains why so many writers overproduce and under-revise. Drafting feels like creation; editing feels like negation. The resistance is not technical. It is psychological. Editing forces the writer to confront the difference between intention and execution. It exposes where the sentence did not do what it promised. It reveals habits masquerading as style. Writing allows the ego to expand; editing contracts it.

More uncomfortably, editing collapses time. The writer must become both creator and judge, holding yesterday’s enthusiasm to today’s standards. Many avoid this by outsourcing judgment—to editors, to audiences, to metrics. The work moves forward without ever being fully interrogated by its author.

Serious writers eventually learn that editing is where authorship actually begins. Drafting assembles material; editing assigns responsibility. The inability to edit oneself honestly is not a flaw of discipline but of identity. To revise deeply is to admit that the earlier version of you was wrong—and that admission is more threatening than any blank page.

REVISED CLOSING REFLECTION — Writing Without the Applause

If this essay sounds severe, it is because writing is not as forgiving as the internet pretends. Visibility does not equal progress. Output does not equal growth. Confidence does not equal authority. And originality, pursued too early, often becomes a delay tactic disguised as ambition.

Most people who write will write forever without becoming writers in the deeper sense. They will stay busy, expressive, and technically capable. They will publish often. They will be liked. And yet their sentences will never harden into something that carries independent weight.

The difference is not talent. It is tolerance—for invisibility, for imitation, for discomfort, for revision, for the long quiet where nothing affirms you except the page itself. Writing does not reward urgency. It rewards submission to the process. The hidden author your essay speaks of does not emerge because you blogged more, shared more, or commented better. It emerges when you accept that writing is not self-expression but self-erasure—slowly stripping away what is convenient, impressive, or immediately rewarding until only what withstands pressure remains.

That is not a glamorous journey. It is not publicly visible. And most people abandon it long before it becomes recognizable as theirs. Which is why good writers are rare, and why being busy with words has never been the same thing as earning them.

When Family Time sounds like your Psychologist's Favorite Phrase about what you Should be Doing!

The tail-end of 80s and 90s played host to my growing-up memories

It was during the morning hours of getting ready for work, and the usual music channels were upbeat with new tunes and songs. My mind just popped some images of audio cassettes of yonder that once used to find ample space in my schoolbag, drawers, cupboards, and always seemed like trending without the hashtags or Instagram stories. We didn't need social media channels to tell us what was cool - we could pretty much handle this on our own. We didn't need Likes on our images to realize that what we had was of some value and liked by others. These were really plasticky times and still they now seem a lot more real, less commercialized, more restrained without getting suffocating. This was during the late 80s and early 90s.

Do Abnormally Creative Mixing Skills Mean a Good Career?

I am looking for a job profile titled Mixologist. Your expectations should be:

• can mix all forms known to man - air, water, fire, earth, pornographically permeated ideas
• suffers from severe mixing tendencies that were once evaluated as the result of God-mixed, genetically-conjured split personalities
• has no shame in admitting that most mixing experiments lead to severe accidents
• Someone who cannot be trusted with a kitchen that is reasonably stocked
• expects you to be ready party to anything and everything that is mixed and whipped beyond recognition
• seems to look at everyday food choices as a challenge and wants to defeat them
• has the distinction of not suffering from acidity despite multiple, same-day food experiments
• was once listed as a wanted offender for challenging the stability of our food chain
• has won accolades for mixing three types of shaving foams and four types of deodorants
• suffers from borderline disassociation syndrome when mixing possibilities dry up
• cannot be trusted with small kids as his creations might make the kids choke or allergy-up
• envies mixer-grinding machines that seem to mix better than him [seem...they actually don't]
• is crazy about textures in food

Almost Ancient Moral Science Classroom Chapters that Make More Sense Now!

Our moral science classes were usually held in the first period of the day. In a catholic school, as a fraternity, we were big on manners and learning the good things to do. At that time, it seemed a bit too vague, often about things that we really didn’t practice, but yes, it helped to draw some sort of line between the good, the bad, and the reasonably acceptable middle, grey zone. These lessons were usually forgotten and often the classroom aura was more of winding down for the day to follow with many mates catching up on quick bites and pending homework copies. Things that were transmitted to us were usually never received or processed. Now, after nearly two decades, it seems that many of the lessons that we didn’t bother to learn during that period are waiting for their share of the spotlight. We were told not to lie, and yes, I learned this lesson rather well before giving it away when handling the type of projects that were too big for the teams I managed. The lesson of one lie opens a box of more dicey stories, tales sprinkled with misleading creativity. Soon I realized that no matter what the Management or the workplace buddies say, don’t lie to your client – this will blow up in your face in the most hurtful manner. The smallest lessons about refreshingly starting the day, always taking the time to tidy up make more sense now, in my mid-30s, when there are a million tasks to manage and not starting the day on a positive note means daylong anxiety and unwanted stress!

If only, at that time, someone could have been schooled in the wisdom of teaching these lessons as life-essential skills and not just another round of classroom learning.

When Life Gives You Lemons, Ask for Martini...Demand One!

This is not some Instagram-worthy post with hash-tags like #lifemotivation - this is just me, sharing something that I have learned along the way when repeatedly trying to undertake a journey towards an utterly believable state of happiness. I have this firm belief that as an individual, I never exploited and fully utilized the gifts that God granted. I did not encash the opportunities that Destiny presented. For a long time, Life has been about committing many mistakes and then finding the energy to try redemption. The result is this constant battle where I have to fight off bouts of unhappiness that stem from this reconfirmation. However, I have also found a way of dealing with such days. This short blog post is about such life management...

Did you just mark that wall with your imprints? Don't dumb it up!

What is it about fingerprints on the walls that make people gush about its authenticity? Just recently, I read an article about how to decorate a room using your handprints. My reaction was a blend of confusion and amazement. I felt confused because the idea of having an entire wall covered in handprints as the accent walls trending did not appeal to me, and more so, I could not understand what is so organically creative about it. I was a bit amazed because some people call it artistic! I can never understand this. Prints of human hands, with the fingerprints, clearly showing, in a color of the paint or pigment, does not create great visuals. There is nothing so progressive about them. I am not complaining about how some people have abused heritage sites with this irresistible urge to leave their imprints all over these places of cultural or religious greatness - instead, I am talking about my failure to really interpret what makes this such a lovable thing to do. No one has majestically different hands whose imprints will create a Picasso-niche imprint. Most of these will be scratched away or painted out someday. As long as they are there, plastered on the surface, they look plain ugly. Some vacationers tend to think of these hand imprinting exercises as a very anthropological way of marking their territory or adding that family aura to something that only society or community actually owns. However, nothing of the sort is the reality. Imprinting your hand over anything, often creating smudges, is no art! I see people do it in the kid's room, and for once, a couple of handprints on a call can look cute. I say so being the father to a 1.8 years old girl whose feet and handprints have never been properly captured. As a couple, we have always planned to do it but just never got around to doing so. Here, the visual appeal of it is somewhat understandable but that too in the form of a few prints only, and not doing the entire wall in a maze of handprints. However, handprinted walls in the kitchen, living room, or bedroom are not macabre or eclectic.

Some Food Cooking, Serving, Ordering Habits that Need a Change

Like anyone else in this world, I love eating, and I also love the mannerisms, the sub-cultures, the unspoken rules that are meant to be broken that are inherent to many cuisines. However, the zone of must-DOs often overlaps with irritation, making me pause and think - who created these self-anointed rules of the game? I seriously don't understand why people should order a butter parantha with butter-chicken or paneer butter masala - there is no such disease that is diagnosed with lack of cottage cheese! Why is that a burger seems more complete with a dumping of fries by the side - is there a reason why I should chew down more fried stuff when I only wanted a good burger? Some food ordering and eating preferences are seriously questionable... 

Approach to Restarting Life Inspired by Falling Leaves

Nature has this weird knack of teaching us a lesson all the time. It is just that we never take the time to stop, observe and learn it. However, with time, when Life has jerked you around a bit too much, with too much regularity, you tend to take notice. I took notice nearly five years back and since then, the entire perspective has changed. One such visual that I remember from my transition days is that of falling leaves. For a moment, believe that the leaves are days, hours or moments during which we realize that we need to overhaul our lifestyle choices to enable better outcomes, for a life more aligned along the lines of achieving fulfillment.

Don't Preach about Micro-scoping Everything We Eat

There is a wealth of online wisdom available about how to choose and how to be very careful about what we eat; however, some of this advice seems too preachy and, at times, irritating. There is something very simple and unsaid about food that is good - you have to close your eyes to the obvious things that will not agree with a nutritionist's advice. Soulful food is invariably high in calories. Perhaps this is why it is so happy and big, and yes, it contains a lot of fat too, which you cannot enjoy if your conscience keeps asking you questions about the calorie count. However, what irritates me is that the people who have infused this habit of counting and measuring everything we are about to eat seem to have comfortably forgotten that we don't have that many choices. So many kitchen and grocery essentials are no longer in the safety zone. The simplest of herbs and spices, too, are now adulterated. We are trying to make the most educated decisions, buying what has been packaged better and procured more sensibly, at a premium rate.

Now, whatever little is left is, whatever scanty food options have managed to survive the commercialization holocaust, don’t need to be put under the lens in such a magnified way.

There is a limit to how much we need to read into each food label. Why is this not the state government’s responsibility to handle? There are blogs about how some of the most common sweeteners are now cancerous or irritate the gastrointestinal lining. We shouldn’t need to check out the details across so many ingredients, many of which are highly industrial in nature and are not even in public ambit. As a consumer, you want to be aware and make educated choices, but when you are biting into a juicy-looking steak, you shouldn’t be thinking about whether the marbling pattern indicates plasticized meats – yes, this is actually happening, now at a neighborhood food chain, near you!

It’s the kind of absurdity that reveals how deeply modern food anxiety has burrowed into daily life. People aren’t eating anymore; they’re performing vigilance. Every bite is an interrogation. Every craving becomes a moral test. The act of feeding oneself—once instinctive, joyful, inherited—now resembles an exam no one remembers signing up for. And beneath this constant scanning lies a quieter fatigue: the sense that ordinary people have been tasked with policing a system far bigger, murkier, and more industrial than any individual conscience can realistically manage. No one at the dinner table volunteered to become an amateur toxicologist, yet here we are, squinting at ingredient lists that read like chemical inventories and pretending that this scrutiny will somehow repair what was broken upstream.

The tragedy is that the joy of food has been displaced by the performance of “purity.” This cultural obsession with micro-scoping every grain of salt, every trace of oil, every unfamiliar word on a label has created an atmosphere where flavor is secondary to fear. Food has become a site of moral signaling—proof of discipline, of restraint, of belonging to the tribe that supposedly “knows better.” But wisdom has little to do with it. What people call mindful eating often resembles a defensive maneuver against a world that keeps asking individuals to compensate for failures they did not cause. And in that sense, perhaps the real indulgence is not the butter, the ghee, the fried crust, or the sugary bite—it’s the momentary refusal to let industrial chaos dictate one’s emotional relationship with hunger.

What gets lost in this nutritional surveillance culture is the simple, almost ancient truth that appetite is one of the last remaining instincts that hasn’t been fully colonized by modern systems—though not for lack of trying. People forget that flavor was once a language: a way families expressed affection, a way communities formed bonds, a way memory anchored itself in the body. Now that language is constantly interrupted by warnings, advisories, and the low-grade panic that accompanies every headline about some newly discovered threat lurking in what used to be considered food. It is difficult to savor anything when the mind has been conditioned to parse each bite into risk categories, running silent calculations that drain pleasure long before the stomach has a chance to register fullness.

The irony is sharp: never have people had more access to information, and never have they been more confused about what is safe to eat. The excess of nutritional data hasn’t clarified anything; it has only deepened the sense that one could always be making a “better” decision. This constant self-surveillance becomes its own form of hunger—a hunger for certainty in a world where certainty no longer exists. And so, instead of trusting their own senses, people end up negotiating their meals with an endless stream of external authorities, each claiming to hold the definitive truth about what the body should or shouldn’t endure. The body itself, meanwhile, waits patiently, still knowing what it likes, though few remember how to listen.

Something about colored, bright ice-creams that create the goodness aura

The Naturalness Index of a Food Item
Can be Pure Visuals...Just Don't Dig Further!

You might have come across my recent blog about how all ice-creams that vouch for being fruity and being ultra-natural tend to fail on many counts. I am still sticking to my stand. All ice-creams infused with some type of fruit mix or extract are not that high on the goodness part as they claim to be. Most of them have decent amounts of processed sugars and fats despite all the claims. But there is one thing about ice-creams that wear a color emanating from their fruity formulation. These fruits are invariably some shade of red and their extract can create different hues of maroon, pink, and reds. The visual effect is sometimes extraordinary. I was Googling images for ice-creams made with natural stuff and came across the graphic shared here. Just one look at this concoction of traditional ice-creams with fruits and you get this feeling that there is something very pure about it. This is not about feeling relieved because the fruit content would have removed some of the high-density calories but the colors that create this interplay of a textured surface.

Neck Aesthetics - not that common, doesn't happen to everyone & it is a big deal!

This small topic came to my mind when watching neck workout videos during YouTube surfing hours. Immediately, a thought flashed - I had been making mental notes of which UFC wrestlers and Bollywood ladies had beautiful necks! Obviously, the parameters are very different for different genres. You cannot have a Lesnar neck on someone who weights 160 lbs. I believe that a person’s neck contributes a lot to the overall facial appearance. I say this for men and women and some similar anatomical characteristics apply to both genders. Firstly, a slightly thicker neck without being bulgy like the un-groomed tree trunks found on professional wrestlers helps to define the overall facial persona. It is like giving a beautiful base for your face to sit upon.

Highly Raised Stools with Leg Support >better> than Regular Chairs?

You might have people exchange a lot of notes about the type of back support they prefer, what makes it easier for them to relax their legs and how some modern seating options seem to be agonizing their spinal column. Taking cues from the web and my own experiences, I can promise one thing - there is very little people are doing in terms of really exploring the playing field here. Just think of this: most people assume that they need highly padded chairs with elongated back support for maximum comfort. If you have visited some recently done bistros or cafes, you might have seen these high-rise stools that are awfully bigger than your regular, bedside stools.

More vertically blessed and without any dedicated back arch supporting fixtures, these stools can be shockingly comfortable. Most of them have iron legs and this means very high weight-bearing capacity. A simple, no-nonsense seat replaces the snug fitted sofa chairs, car seats or Ottomans. You get a humbled-down, agrarian like approach to furniture choices. There is almost no design here and the lack of it makes this seating option unique and effective.