The Past of the Present is in the Future of the Now

Every meal is a quiet miracle. For me, sitting before a full plate of food is not merely a daily routine; it is an invitation to enter a state of deep consciousness. When I pause to trace how that food arrived on my  table, an automatic door to gratitude opens.   Often I share this simple process with my kids and wife and remind them of how we must be in awe and gratitude. It is a simple process but develops a beautiful relationship with food and universe.  We quickly realise we are not in control. We are simply a single peg in a vast, interconnected chain of life. To practice this "Yoga of Gratitude," we must follow the long, beautiful journey of a single seed from its humble beginnings in the soil to its final destination on the dining plate. 1. The Genesis: Soil, Science and Human Hands The journey begins long before a plant ever breaks through the earth. It starts with preparation, selection and the physical labour of human hands matching the rhythm ...

Retirement is often seen as a phase of slowing down. For me, it became an invitation to rediscover, recreate and reinvent myself. Creativity has always been a form of expression, but I discovered that it does not always need a canvas, a camera, or a notebook. Sometimes, it can emerge from a kitchen counter, a frying pan, a cup of coffee, or the aroma of freshly baked cake. My journey into cooking, baking and blending started as a simple experiment. Making a humble plate of Poha, shaping a Paratha, creating a Cappuccino, experimenting with Cold Coffee with Cream, baking Cakes, or blending Assorted Teas slowly became more than just culinary activities. They became quiet moments with myself. Every process demanded attention. The chopping, mixing, measuring, kneading and decorating required presence. A small variation in ingredients changed the final outcome. How wonderful that was. A small change in habits can actually change the outcome. The kitchen became my laboratory of cr...

Darwin said we descended from apes. Scientists say chimpanzees share nearly 80% of our DNA. Fair enough. India, of course, looked at this theory and said, “Cute. But let us upgrade the script a little.” We gave the world the Ramayana. Lord Rama. Hanuman. An entire monkey army that crossed oceans, burned Lanka and took down Ravana. Since then, our relationship with monkeys has remained beautifully complicated — part devotion, part negotiation, part armed conflict. Even the Discovery Channel once did a full documentary on India’s monkeys. Frankly, they deserved a sequel after meeting the Vrindavan gang. Here’s my classified field report. Last Holi, end of February, I landed in Vrindavan for a photography walk. Our team leader gathered us like a commando unit before insertion into hostile territory. “Seal your cameras.” “Waterproof your gear.” “And for God’s sake… protect your spectacles.” Then came the final briefing. “The monkeys here are professionals. They steal goggles, glasses, came...

  There are some places that do not merely exist on a map but they quietly become a part of your inner landscape. For me, this lonely stretch of Shanghumakam beach in  Thiruvananthapuram was one such place. While the city still slept under the weight of unfinished dreams, I would wake before dawn, pick up my camera gear, slide quietly into my VW Vento car and drive through the silent roads toward the sea. There was something sacred about those drives. No honking. No rush. No noise of ambition. Just empty roads, moist air, sleepy coconut trees and the faint promise of light waiting somewhere beyond the horizon. People often chase sunrises in Kerala, but being on India’s west coast, sunsets are where the real poetry unfolds. And this frame, this particular photograph was taken during one such evening when the sky decided to perform Mozart. I had my usual ritual. Tripod. Camera. A burger packed casually on the passenger seat. And patience. I w...

Darwin said we descended from apes. Scientists say chimpanzees share nearly 80% of our DNA. Fair enough. India, of course, looked at this theory and said, “Cute. But let us upgrade the script a little.” We gave the world the Ramayana. Lord Rama. Hanuman. An entire monkey army that crossed oceans, burned Lanka and took down Ravana. Since then, our relationship with monkeys has remained beautifully complicated — part devotion, part negotiation, part armed conflict. Even the Discovery Channel once did a full documentary on India’s monkeys. Frankly, they deserved a sequel after meeting the Vrindavan gang. Here’s my classified field report. Last Holi, end of February, I landed in Vrindavan for a photography walk. Our team leader gathered us like a commando unit before insertion into hostile territory. “Seal your cameras.” “Waterproof your gear.” “And for God’s sake… protect your spectacles.” Then came the final briefing. “ The monkeys here are professionals. They steal goggles, ...

 Have you ever noticed how some people seem to radiate a certain glow, as if they’re tapped into a source of energy that the rest of us can’t quite see? Recently, a student shared a curious experience with a Master. They noticed that after their daily mindfulness and physical practices, they felt a strange, shimmering sense of intoxication. It wasn’t the kind of "drunk" that comes with a headache and a blurry memory; it was a state of intense, vibrant clarity—a natural high that made every movement feel like a celebration. The Master’s response was simple yet profound: What is life worth if it isn’t ecstatic? The Art of Being Consciously "Drunk" Most people think of intoxication and awareness as opposites. Usually, if you’re "drunk" on something, you lose control. If you’re fully alert, you’re often stiff or overly serious. But the Master explains that the ultimate way to live is to be completely intoxicated by life while remaining 100% aware. ...