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An Indomitable Spirit

This eclispe doesn’t compute. There was no math, no conceivable sequence of events, or dominos falling, that could have brought me to this place and time. Yet here I am. Without a dear friend. Without a kindred soul. Without Thej. Life is unpredictable, yes. Storms do come, I know. But strorms blow away a tin roof or a hatch. They may be even topple a weakened wall in the process. But they aren’t supposed to blow away a Palace that Thej’s larger than life was. It was a Palace, even though, while he lived I never quite saw it that way. I was too close you see. You don’t quite get the full perspective of the magnificent design, the architecture, the tall columns and adorned facade, while on the inside. The palace is too big. One must step back some. As I step back now, I realize that I had the privilege to be an insider to his beautiful life. A life cut short abruptly. Or, may-be, just may-be, this fire was meant to burn off in just this much time. The heat was too intense. We reconcile,...
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Maher - By Nayana Gadkari

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October 4th, 2025,  the hostess announced my mother's arrival at her 80th birthday party, and she rolled in like the Queen that she was, escorted by my brother and me, her greatest treasure. She looked resplendent in an ivory Paithani saree picked out by me, the pearls around her delicate and proud neck selected most lovingly by my brother, and together we had chosen the perfect song to accompany her, Champion by Carrie Underwood. The lyrics "I am invincible, unbreakable, unstoppable, unshakable, I am a Champion" reverberated through the room as she slowly turned around and smiled her dazzling smile worth its own sunrise. The entire room erupted in cheers, filled with her legacy. We had put out a clarion call to celebrate her milestone year, and everyone answered. They all knew of her fierce battle with Parkinson's and the brain surgery in its wake; they knew this was a conquest wrested from the jaws of death. As they waited for the birthday girl to arrive, many of th...
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Tomorrow is Fragile

  So, what is something,we most take for granted? Tomorrow... Anything non pressing we push it to tomorrow.But isn't tomorrow an illusion? Who has seen tomorrow? I can never forget a colleague of mine who left office one day in the evening and never returned.Leaving behind a grieving young family.We all heard of someone who never came back on a regular normal day. Tomorrow is fragile. So stop overthinking, over planning and give your family a tight hug and a lot of your time.Because,when the days run out the biggest regret won’t be the things we think that matter today.. So make that special dish today your husband loves or just keep that phone aside and listen to your teens..Or be more kind to yourself..Life,Time and Family are irreplaceable so make the most of it.. Because tomorrow is fragile......
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Clocks Turn Back

Yesterday as I went to bed  A voice in my mind said  It’s ten on your watch but wait girl it’s really nine So go see that TV show and sip some wine You’ll get an extra hour of sleep So mute that alarm when it beeps Then in the morning I woke at seven But wait said my brain it’s just six I just gained an hour of time  Which is so absolutely fine Then when the sun set at four I didn’t  want that extra hour of sleep  anymore Give me some more sunshine And I promise I won’t whine                              ……….Leena
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Wet Sand

                                                                              Walking along the wet shore, I saw fine lines in the sand— delicate borders, as if a canvas had been stretched, waiting to be painted. A few steps further, footprints emerged—large, small, even seagulls had left their mark, scattered all over wet sand. Further still, I watched the waves arrive and retreat, softly erasing some lines, etching new ones in their place. I paused. "Hats off to the wet sand," I thought. What strength it must take to receive every impression— and still remain soft. My heart filled with gratitude. One moment, I marveled at the beauty of those lines. The next, I searched for them— gone without warning. Life, too, is like wet sand: nothing is permanent. Waves come and go, ...
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The Magical power of a Hug

"Papa, can I have a hug?" The question came from a small, ten-year-old voice. I looked down to see my daughter’s face, a storm cloud of frustration with tears welling in her eyes. I smiled, opened my arms, and pulled her into an embrace. As I held her, I could feel the tension in her small frame melt away. When she pulled back, the storm had passed, replaced by a bright, beaming smile that erased every trace of her anger and sadness. That was my first profound lesson in the power of a simple hug. Now, she is a young woman, and though the reasons for her tears have changed, she still seeks out that same quiet comfort in my arms from time to time. Years later, the roles were reversed, and it was I who was shattered. The day I lost my job, a first in my career, I walked home in a daze of uncertainty and fear. My son, then fifteen, found me. "Dad? You're home early." The simple question broke through my composure. Taking a shaky breath, I told him the truth. "I...
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Not Everything Needs to Go Viral

Lately, I've been reflecting on the wave of viral videos that flood our timelines.The Coldplay concert couple, someone dancing,singing, eating with their hands on a subway, someone tossing something in a wooded area. Are these really moments for public consumption? Sure, behaviors can be unusual or inappropriate depending on the setting. But does that give a random bystander the higher moral ground to record and broadcast it to millions? What happens between two individuals,as long as it’s within the confines of law,should remain just that: between them. It reminds me of the time I used to travel to the city for work. Every day on the path there was a man who talked loudly on his phone, clearly annoying everyone. One day, someone finally called him out. Embarassed,he got off at the next station to finish his call. That moment was enough to teach him a lesson . No cameras, hashtags, or public shaming. Imagine if someone had filmed him instead, posted it, and made him a meme. We forg...
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Happy Birthday….

Every year since the time my daughter was eight I have been writing a poem for her.  As she was turning 14 this year, I thought she was too old for a poem from her mom. But around 10 days back, she asked me “ Mom. I hope you started writing my poem for my birthday.” “Aren’t you too old? I asked her. Of course, not, she said I do want a poem for my birthday this year too And so I started penning now a poem and gave it to her today … of course with other gifts!! You’re fourteen years today, a milestone so grand You now speak in a language I hardly understand Baffling words like lowkey, skibbidi and sigma Your language for me is truly an enigma Sometimes your room, it makes me pull my hair in despair The clothes on the floor look at me and say “Clean up this room if you dare”  Don’t know when those tiny hands always holding a book are now never seen without a phone  So over the years, how did I change from mama to “mom” to “bro”  Maybe that’s something I’ll never unders...
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I saw her

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A remarkably uninteresting looking woman. Grey- ish hair, sharp features, worries and concerns of a life that I will never know about… she sat there across the bar. Neither smiling nor frowning. Slowly eating her grey food, dressed in her grey cardigan. She had braved to sit at a bar by herself, risking attention or, worse still, no attention. She knew the flames of loneliness her life had been consigned to. Others had to catch up, or not.  She moved slowly. Her hands navigating the food, very deliberately. It was in slow motion. Was she sad ? was she lonely? was she content? was she… something. It was hard to know.  It brought me back to some early morning hours at at safari in Africa. An adult lion ambling though the savannah, just as slowly as this woman was eating her food. All other animals were in groups, the Zebras, the Wildebeasts, even birds.. they all had something in common, friends. Not the Lion. Not her across the bar. Not me even, today at-least, I reflected as I...
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AAA, Boot Camps and Fire-Dragon

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In October 2023 I had written an article called AAA which was an exploration into well rounded fitness. I termed it, Aesthetically Astute Athleticism. I had felt a need to direct the athletic endeavors that I had seen a lot of us engaging in, towards a more holistic approach. I had felt that looking like a healthy and fit athlete was just as important as being one.  That actually ended up becoming the start of a journey. Since then, we have executed two Boot Camps, engaging a few dozen accomplished runners who doubled down on Strength Training in the winter months. We exchanged experiences, notes, workout videos, dietary ideas, Podcasts and our own reflections. Each one of us involved, went through our own evolution as endurance athletes with an eye towards aesthetics and long term health outcomes. In some way we took the first tentative steps from endurance runners to genuinely fit individuals. Along the way, we learnt a lot as we zeroed in on what ideal fitness was about and the ...
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