Embracing the Journey - Reflections on Life, Work, and the Future (2025 Jun 12)

Other Journaling Days

2025 Jun 12

"Happy Birthday, Babaji! Miss you a lot."

Today marks another year, a personal milestone that often prompts reflection. As I navigate through the ebb and flow of daily life, a simple yet profound quote resonates deeply: "Count your blessings and start each day afresh!" This isn't just a feel-good mantra; it's a powerful philosophy that reshapes perspective. When you consciously acknowledge the good in your life, a positive outlook naturally emerges, influencing how you perceive people, situations, and challenges. Coupled with the idea of starting each day anew, it propels you beyond "Ground Zero," past the starting line, and into a realm of continuous growth and renewal.

My days often involve a blend of personal pursuits and professional responsibilities. Recently, I've been delving into the world of blogging, inspired by motivational content creators like "Productive Peter." It's a fascinating journey of self-expression and learning. Work, on the other hand, has been surprisingly relaxed, perhaps a testament to the quiet efficiency that sometimes prevails. A significant project, the "Network Engg Assistant" Migration, has reached a crucial point, marked complete with the procurement of a DNS for the back-end service. These small victories, whether in personal endeavors or professional tasks, contribute to the tapestry of a fulfilling day.

Life, however, is rarely linear, and personal relationships often add layers of complexity. My upcoming trip to Ajmer from Gurugram, with tickets secured, is a case in point. The initial excitement surrounding a connection with Harshita has, unfortunately, waned. A mother's intervention, followed by Harshita echoing the sentiment of impatience, cast a shadow over what could have been. It's a reminder that expectations can sometimes lead to disappointment, yet the journey itself holds its own lessons. Despite the dampened enthusiasm, I remain open to the experience, curious to see what unfolds.

Amidst these personal reflections, a larger, more existential question often surfaces: what does the future hold, particularly in a world increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence? As AI continues to advance, taking over tasks that demand mental energy and cognitive effort, one can't help but ponder the implications for humanity. A thought that frequently crosses my mind is the possibility of a monastic existence for people in general. A life of limited resources—food, possessions, space—dedicated to intellectual and spiritual pursuits. In such a scenario, the traditional motivators of complex tasks, novelty, and ambition might diminish, replaced by a simple passing of time, with AI managing the allocation of essential resources for basic survival. It's a stark vision, yet one that prompts deeper consideration of our purpose and value in an AI-dominated future.

My own writing journey mirrors this evolving landscape. While I can now articulate coherent thoughts and string together several lines with a sense of flow, crafting a complete piece of 300-400 words that maintains a singular focus remains a challenge. My current output often feels like a collection of disparate passages on varied topics rather than a unified narrative. It's a work in progress, a testament to the ongoing process of refining one's craft. Perhaps, in time, the pieces will seamlessly interweave, forming a cohesive whole, much like the diverse threads of life that, when viewed collectively, create a rich and meaningful existence.

Navigating the 'Whys' of a Challenging Day - A Personal Reflection (2025 Jun 6)

Other Journaling Days

Life often presents us with moments that compel us to pause, reflect, and question. Sometimes, these moments arrive unannounced, wrapped in the guise of a difficult conversation or an unexpected setback. In such times, the structured approach of techniques like the '5 Whys' – typically reserved for root cause analysis in business – can offer a surprising lens through which to examine our personal habits and reactions. This is a journey into one such day, a day that prompted a deep dive into the 'whys' of my own experiences, both professional and personal.

The evening began with a call from Shridhar, delivering news that cast a shadow over the day. Shiben, a colleague, was apparently displeased, even going so far as to inquire about a potential replacement for me on the DAP project. Shridhar, with a tone of concern, highlighted the precarious position of being off-boarded from two projects consecutively, emphasizing the negative impression it could leave on management.

His feedback, though difficult to hear, was direct and insightful. Shridhar observed a recurring issue in my work: the timely communication of status, progress, challenges, and impediments. "Just let the stakeholders know where we are," he advised, a simple yet profound piece of counsel that resonated deeply. This conversation underscored the critical importance of proactive communication in professional settings, a lesson I was now confronting firsthand.

The uncertainty surrounding my involvement in DAP lingered. I pressed Shridhar for clarity: "Was Shiben certain to not keep me?" His response offered a glimmer of hope – I could still be part of DAP, as he had yet to find a replacement. Simultaneously, another project, NEA, was struggling, progressing at a snail's pace due to delays in relaying requests to AIP Support. The confluence of these professional challenges left me in a state of introspection, unsure how to navigate the immediate future.

In the wake of these professional revelations, a different kind of introspection began. It was 9:09 PM, and the world outside seemed to quiet as I sought solace in familiar routines. The gentle strains of Tibetan flute meditation music filled the air, a calming balm to a turbulent mind. My focus shifted to programming puzzles from HackerEarth, a pursuit that allows me to engage with logic and problem-solving, areas where I feel a sense of competence and control. This was my way of re-centering, of focusing on "what I do best, or what I am good at, or what I want to excel at."

Even as I delved into these personal pursuits, the outside world gently nudged. Harshita's WhatsApp message, "How is my day going?" and her mother Nisha Mehta's earlier call, both went unanswered. In that moment, I needed the space to sort through the complexities in my head, to process the day's events without immediate external demands. My eventual response to Harshita, "I was not keeping well," was an honest reflection of my internal state, prompting her verbatim follow-up: "Why?" This simple question, echoing the very technique I was attempting to apply to my habits, served as a poignant reminder of the interconnectedness of our professional and personal lives.

On days like these, rough, hard, and tiring, the thought often arises: is 400 words too much to write? The intention behind these reflections is not merely to vent, but to extract meaning, to distill lessons from the chaos. Even on a bad day, if the essence of the news can be conveyed in 300 words, why not? The goal is to be concise, impactful, and purposeful. And so, with that resolve, I decided to call it a post and carry on with the night, finding a quiet strength in the act of creation and reflection.

This day, with its professional challenges and personal reflections, served as a powerful reminder of the continuous journey of self-improvement. The feedback, though initially unsettling, became an opportunity for growth. The retreat into personal passions provided a much-needed anchor. And the act of writing, of distilling complex emotions and events into meaningful words, became a form of therapy and clarity. By applying the spirit of the '5 Whys' not just to external problems but to internal states, we can uncover deeper understandings of our habits, our reactions, and our path forward. God bless!

The Unrelenting Quest for Clarity Amidst the Fog (2025-Jun-2)

Other Journaling Days

The drive for clarity seems to be a recurring theme lately. Why meditate? Why journal? Why dive into books on success, motivation, or career paths? The answer echoes back, simple yet profound: to find clarity. Whether it's untangling the general knot of thoughts through meditation, understanding the specifics of my daily life and relationships via journaling, or seeking targeted wisdom from authors like Ankur Warikoo, the underlying goal remains the same – to see things more clearly.

Despite this intention, the day itself felt slow, shrouded in a persistent fog of confusion. Much of it was spent in the very activities meant to bring clarity – reading and meditation – yet the path forward didn't immediately illuminate. It often feels like navigating by feel rather than sight.

Then, as evening approached, the external world interjected with its own demands. A quick ping, followed by a call from Shridhar, served as a heads-up: discussions about my project involvement were imminent. The possibility of being released from one project (IR) to focus on others, like network engineering, was floated. Prepared, I initiated a call with Binu, who confirmed Shridhar's points but added a twist – an urgent, overnight deliverable for a chatbot piece, stemming from a teammate's absence.

The expectation felt jarringly unfair. How could an overnight turnaround be reasonably requested, especially given the circumstances? Voicing this boundary, both to Binu and later confirming it with Shridhar, felt necessary, even if uncomfortable. It highlighted the friction between external pressures and personal capacity.

So, what now? The immediate future seems to demand a shift in focus: preparing for interviews, sharpening coding skills, and delving into new learning territories like Agentic AI. Keeping it simple, focusing on just these actionable steps feels crucial to avoid overwhelm. Yet, even as I try to ground myself with motivational mantras – "Tough times don’t last, tough people do" – a sense of panic lingers. There's an uncomfortable pull, an almost obsessive urge to write, to process, even when logic dictates that time might be better spent elsewhere. It's a strange tension, this need to document the feeling of being adrift while simultaneously needing to build a raft. Perhaps acknowledging this very conflict is, in itself, a form of clarity.

Memento Mori, Marriage Prospects, and Making Sense of It All (2025-Jun-6)

Other Journaling Days

It's a familiar feeling, isn't it? That stretch of free time, yawning open, and the accompanying confusion about how best to fill it. Lately, my default has been turning inwards – meditation, or perhaps outwards to the curated wisdom of YouTube motivational talks. The goal is always the same: seeking a fresh lens, a different angle on the currents of daily life.

Yesterday, this digital exploration led me down a particularly thought-provoking path. A TEDx talk titled “Memento Mori” – Latin for “Remember Death” – resonated deeply. It wasn't morbid, but rather a stark reminder of life's finitude, urging a focus on what truly matters. As often happens in the algorithmic world, this opened a door to Stoic philosophy, a school of thought I've been dipping into, seeking its practical wisdom for navigating modern complexities. I even felt compelled to capture my initial thoughts on “Memento Mori” in a separate post.

This quest for perspective plays out against the backdrop of daily responsibilities. My day was filled with the technical demands of the Network Engineering Assistant project – testing, troubleshooting, liaising with support, and guiding teammates. The usual rhythm of work provides its own structure.

But life rarely stays neatly compartmentalized. An afternoon message brought a different kind of challenge. Harshita's mother had apparently called multiple times. I hadn't felt well and hadn't returned the missed calls promptly. Her message conveyed a sense of urgency: “Ashish my mom called you many times... when are you free after 4pm she wants to talk to you”.

When I did call back later that evening, the conversation quickly pivoted to expectations. Could I get a premium train ticket and travel to Ajmer immediately to meet Harshita? My preference for a more budget-conscious approach was met with, perhaps, surprise. Then came the question about my mother's involvement, leading to a discussion about differing views on finding marriage matches – local versus online bureaus, offline meetings versus long-distance expectations. Nisha Mehta (as she introduces herself) noted the trend towards online searches, yet the expectation remained for me to travel, echoing a past experience where a potential connection fizzled after a similar invitation.

It's in these moments – the intersection of philosophical reflection, daily work, and complex personal interactions – that the real learning happens. Remembering mortality, embracing Stoic acceptance of what we can't control, and navigating the often-unspoken expectations of others... it's all part of the journey. What did I learn? Perhaps that clarity doesn't always come from filling free time, but from observing how we respond to all of life's moments, the planned and the unexpected.

Reflections on a Quiet Day — Seeking Clarity in Chaos

Other Journaling Days

May 31, 2025 — 2:10 PM

There are days when your mind drifts toward big questions—the kind that don’t have immediate answers. Today is one such day. I find myself wondering: What would the end look like? Would it be a peaceful closure or chaotic unraveling? Would we have abundance, or would scarcity shadow us? Will AI continue to serve us, or eventually outpace and outmaneuver our needs and values?

In the middle of these swirling thoughts, I’m asking myself a more immediate question: Should I just shut off the noise and do what I like? The issue is—I'm not even sure what that is anymore.

I’ve tried a few things that help: meditation, journaling, reading, even watching motivational videos—stories rooted in Buddhism or Ankur Warikoo’s perspectives. These do bring temporary clarity. But at times, even with all these tools, the world just doesn’t make sense. It feels disjointed, like I’m walking through a fog with no compass. I find myself asking: Which hobby should I pursue? What would bring joy?

Despite the inner chaos, life carries on. Time ticks. You complete your 400 words. You breathe. You live.

Today, I visited Tijara Ji with Akash (Honey Kaushik). A short visit. We meditated for 20 minutes inside the serene temple, bathed in the sounds of prayer chants. No elaborate rituals, no shopping, just silence—and perhaps, healing. Moni wasn’t with us, which made it feel even quieter, perhaps a bit empty in its own way.

Lunch was at the temple too, so no meals needed till later in the evening. I feel light, both physically and mentally.

“What now?” you may ask.

I’m turning my focus to something constructive. I plan to work on the social media presence of my blog—share posts on Twitter, Facebook, and LinkedIn. A small effort, but one that gives me direction.

In a fleeting moment, I wished there was someone I could talk to. Someone who would just listen—no advice, no interruptions, just presence. It passed, but the wish lingered for a heartbeat.

As for the weekend, it’s going to be about stillness and small wins. I’ll write, read, relax—and maybe even plan something for the days ahead.

God bless.

A Day of Small Wins, Big Thoughts, and Honest Reflections

Other Journaling Days

Today started with something simple yet empowering—a driving class. I drove to the office parking lot in Sector 21, Dundahera village, about 24–25 kilometers away. With less traffic on the road than usual, the drive was smooth and comfortable. I managed to return halfway home before switching off near the Jaipur Highway. It was one of those drives that makes you feel just a little more in control of your life.

Later in the day, good news came in—my salary got credited. With that, I made an important decision: to pre-close my car loan. The loan had been dragging me down financially, especially with ₹24,000 vanishing each month. Looking at the numbers, I’ve already spent over a lakh on interest payments alone. Ending that cycle will be a financial relief and a step closer to financial clarity.

Work was technically productive. We managed to containerize the NEA app using Docker and deploy it to a Kubernetes cluster. However, the last piece of the puzzle—DNS setup—is still pending. We’re close to getting the whole thing functional. It’s one of those inch-by-inch battles.

Now, why am I journaling all of this? The simple answer: to rebuild my communication skills. Writing helps me pause and reflect. It brings structure to the chaos in my head.

That said, some parts of the day brought discomfort. Moni’s daughters—Mahi and Chulbul—are staying with us. But their stay has been more frustrating than helpful. Their academic performances have been lackluster, and their motivation seems lacking. Today, they were out late into the evening without much accountability, and that stirred some raw feelings in me. I don’t want to dwell too much on negativity, but writing it out helps process the emotion and let it go.

On a lighter note, Ankit and Akash called. There’s talk of a new freelancing opportunity where we’d split ownership—33%, 33%, and 34% respectively. It’s exciting but also daunting. Where do I find the time and energy? Still, it feels worth exploring.

Tomorrow’s another early morning, another drive, and maybe another small win. Let’s see where the road leads.

God bless.

Reflections on a Day of Tech Glitches, Gratitude, and Growth

Other Journaling Days

Some days feel like a kaleidoscope of chaos, clarity, and contemplation. Today was one such day — full of tech trials, broken glass, unexpected conversations, and a few quiet life lessons.

The morning began slowly. I woke around 6:30 AM, but didn’t actually roll out of bed until 7:30. A quick driving lesson with Akash was on the schedule — just a trip to the office parking lot and back. It was a small accomplishment, but a grounding one.

Work-wise, things were off-track from the beginning. I missed the 9 AM IR project stand-up and didn’t attend any of the IR calls through the day. Instead, I was buried in a mountain of IT troubleshooting. Ubuntu 25.04 failed to install. Then 24.04.5 also refused to cooperate. I considered downgrading but instead gave MX Linux a shot — it's what’s running on Ankur’s Toshiba, so I figured it was worth exploring.

And then there was the center table. Smashed — by none other than Mahi, Chulbul, and Moni. A reminder, perhaps, that impermanence is everywhere. A lesson, albeit a sharp one.

Later in the evening, Binu from work messaged me, wondering why I missed a call and asking for testing updates. I pinged the relevant teammates — Bindu, Anusha, Varsha — and relayed the request. It was a small task, but one that pulled me back into the workstream after a disconnected day.

In between it all, I found moments for gratitude. I’m thankful to Shridhar and Shiben — two constants in the maze of day-to-day questions and management tasks. There are many more I could thank — mentors, colleagues, teammates — each playing a part in this journey.

And forgiveness? That too found its place. To those who’ve hurt me — intentionally or otherwise — I offer forgiveness. Not because I have to, but because I want to move forward lighter.

Three lessons stood out today:

Impermanence – whether in shattered glass or failed installations.

Respect – we bow not just to rank, but to the divinity in others.

Planning – shared some freelance advice with Ankit and Akash, reminding them (and myself) that thoughtful planning is often the difference between chaos and calm.

Life’s still a bit crazy. But I’m learning to walk through the madness with gratitude — and maybe a little Linux.

God bless.

Chaos, Code, and a Crash: A Day in the Life of a Reluctant SysAdmin

Other Journaling Days

Today was a digital disaster. It started with chaos—files being moved, deleted, and devices being wiped clean. Over the past week, I’ve lost more than 600GB of data, thanks to a perfect storm of file mismanagement and cleaning sprees on hard drives, pen drives, and memory cards.

The real kicker? My 1TB memory card nearly died during a file transfer gone wrong on Ubuntu. The USB port failed mid-transfer, and suddenly I was facing file corruption. In my frustration (and probably as a coping mechanism), I decided to upgrade my OS to Ubuntu 25.04.

That’s where the real trouble began.

I started the installation around 4–5 PM. It’s now past 11:30 PM, and I’m still battling with setup. The first installation failed, and the second one just gave up on me. I’m seriously considering downgrading to version 24.10—or even 24.04—just to regain a sense of normalcy.

Between these digital calamities, I was technically “working from home,” juggling AIP Support to get containerization done for a GenAI app. I also missed two calls with the IR team (5PM and 6PM), which now feel like minor blips in an already overwhelming day.

I managed to sneak out with Moni for some groceries around 8PM, which was the most peaceful part of the day. But once back, I returned to the wreckage—my first OS installation had failed. I tried to fix it. It wouldn’t budge. So I reinstalled, and... same result.

At this point, I’m exhausted. My head is heavy, I’m yawning constantly, and all I want is sleep. But I also know that if I push this off to tomorrow, I’ll regret it during work hours. It’s a lose-lose.

Despite the chaos, I’m grateful for one thing: I’m writing more regularly than I did in 2024. That alone marks some improvement in my health and habits.

Still, it’s hard not to ask: “What am I doing?” Not just with Ubuntu, but with these long, sleepless nights chasing clean installs and clean slates.

Time to call it a night. I’ll try again tomorrow—with Ubuntu 24.x if I must. Morning drive with Akash and Honey at 6AM is my only reward in sight.

Let’s hope tomorrow is quieter.

Gate Drama, Late Thoughts, and the Elusive Idea of Success (2025-May-17 Evening)

Other Journaling Days

It started with a simple call.

Mahi was at the main gate, and the guard had asked her which flat she came from. She called me, a bit flustered. “What was your flat number, uncle, I forgot?” she asked. I said 'no problem', then told her to hand the phone to the guard at the exit.

I heard a voice mutter, “Yeh H2503 kiska hai?” And then, just like that, they let her through.

But something about it lingered.

Should I have told the guards earlier that Mahi is my niece—bhatiji? Would that have made things simpler? Why didn’t she just tell them herself that she had come to see her chacha? Why did this tiny situation trigger such unease in me?

And then my thoughts spiraled. I found myself questioning Moni’s decision to take Mahi to the temple. Was it even necessary? What if something had gone wrong at the gate? What if Moni returns and blames me—for not doing more, for not handling it better?

In my mind, I was already labeled: a loser, a coward. And Moni? Careless, laparwah.

But then, both Mahi and Moni returned. No drama. No tension. Just calm. The storm had only existed in my head.

---

I went to bed early that night, around 9:10 PM. Slept nearly 11.5 hours. Maybe my mind needed the rest. It was 11:07 AM when I finally sat down to reflect, prompted by a video: “Is Wealth the Problem? – Buddha’s Teaching on Success and Wealth.”

It stirred something deeper.

What am I chasing? What does success mean to me?

Honestly, I think I’m chasing peace. And the money? It's more about paying off debts than it is about greed. I don’t want riches—I want relief. I want space to breathe.

Do I want to be successful? Yes. But not with passion. Just as a vague checkbox. Because success, to me, has no clear definition. I don't know who is truly successful. I only see the superficial markers—cars, money, homes.

Do I equate money with success? Not really. Maybe 20% of me does. But I know, deep down, that money isn't everything.

Still, I’m left with the biggest question: What does success mean to me?

I don’t know yet. But I know this—it’s not happiness.

Namo Buddhaye.

A Lazy Afternoon, Some Interviews, and a Cup of Tea I Never Had (2025-May-17)

Other Journaling Days

It’s 3:25 PM. Slightly more than half a day has passed, and as I sit back to reflect, I’d say it’s been… good. Two interviews were scheduled. The first never happened—Priyanshi forgot to open the bridge. The second, set for 1 PM, was 40 minutes late. Same reason. Thankfully, Deepshika stepped in and salvaged the situation. All part of a regular day in corporate life, I guess.

“How am I feeling this afternoon?”
Lazy. The kind of lazy that comes from skipping my afternoon tea. It’s the weekend, so I decided to let my body recharge naturally. No caffeine, no boost—just silence, and a slowly settling fog of drowsiness.

I often feel like this. Tired. Sometimes confused when work drags into the afternoon. That’s usually when I crave tea—not for the taste, but for clarity.

But today was different.

I took a nap. I had a samosa. Simple joys. And then I meditated—just 20 minutes, but enough to shift my state of mind.

In that stillness, I revisited a powerful question:
“What would I do if this were my last day on Earth?”

Mahatma Gandhi’s words echoed in my head: “Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.”

So, I read. That’s what I’d like to do—read. I’m currently deep into Ankur Warikoo’s self-help series. After finishing Do Epic Shit, I’m now on Get Epic Shit Done, with Make Epic Money and Build an Epic Career next in line. The titles may be bold, but the reflections within are grounding.

Then something mildly strange happened.

Just as I sat down to meditate, Megha pinged. She’s based in the UK and mentioned she'll be in India in August or September—which, to me, feels like a lifetime away. Our chat was short, slightly awkward. Maybe because I said I was meditating. Maybe because I replied with big smiling eyes and she replied with button-eyed emojis. Who knows?

Should I be offended? Probably not.
Should I be amused? Absolutely.

And that, dear reader, was my Saturday. No tea. Some quiet. A little soul-searching. And a reminder that even awkward texts are part of the human experience.

God bless.

The Unanswerable Questions: Legacy, Labor, and the Art of Drifting (2025-May-15)

Other Journaling Days

“What preparations should one make for the last day on Earth?”
“What preparations should one make for the last day on the job?”

Both questions, I realize, are flawed.

1. The Futility of Final Acts

Legacy assumes an audience. But what if there’s no one to inherit it? Sadhana Jain, the woman I call mother, and I share a bond frayed by resentment. There are no children, no protégés, no one to whisper my name after I’m gone. Why polish a legacy for ghosts? The end was always inevitable—why perform for it?

The better question: “What would you do if today were your last?” Yet even this leaves me blank. I don’t know what I’d do. I don’t know what I like to do. I drift. Time passes, unmarked.

2. Work: A Wheel That Never Stops

The second question collapses under its own weight. Jobs are rivers—step out, and the current flows onward. Someone else will fill your chair, your spreadsheets, your Slack threads. Preparations? Save money, they say. But survival without work is a privilege, not a plan.

Then there’s Dikhya, who answers “kuch nhi” (“nothing”) when asked what she’s doing. Society scoffs, but she drifts, unhurried. Guddu, too—his life bankrolled by Moni—floats through days. Why is “doing nothing” a sin? Maybe stagnation is just another kind of peace.

3. The Sanctity of Unanswered Questions

This journaling session solved nothing. But it centered me.

I used to think clarity was the goal. Now I see the questions themselves are the anchor. Why must we do, achieve, leave? Why can’t we just be?

Dikhya and Guddu aren’t failures—they’re rebels in a world obsessed with milestones. Their “nothing” is a quiet protest against the cult of productivity.

The Gift of Drifting

We’re taught to fear the void. But what if the void is where we meet ourselves?

Today, I asked unanswerable questions. I judged my mother, envied Dikhya, pitied Guddu. I wrote this. It changed nothing—and yet, it did.

Epilogue:
Legacy is overrated. Work is ephemeral. But the act of asking, of staring into the abyss and whispering “What if?”—that’s where the magic hides.

Maybe the answer is there is no answer. Maybe that’s okay.

---

P.S. To the Dikhyas and Guddu Singhs of the world: Keep drifting. The rest of us are just pretending to know where we’re going.

The Weight of Unfinished Things: Confronting Mortality on a Bad Day (2025-May-14)

Other Journaling Days

How would the end look?
Alone? Sick? A quiet fade at night or a midday halt? My mind spirals: Painful. Lonely. Cluttered with grudges and to-dos, just like today. Death feels like an extension of life’s loose threads—the home loan I joke about, the unresolved friction with my mother, the guilt of unanswered calls.

How would I like to die?
“No unfinished business”—a fantasy. Daniel Kahneman’s assisted exit lingers in my thoughts, not as desire, but as a grim punchline to life’s absurdity. Control, even in endings, seduces. But let’s be honest: death, like life, is messy.

---

What’s the matter?
Today was a bad day. I woke at 4 AM, wrote two blog posts, walked at dawn—productivity as armor. By afternoon, my head throbbed. I napped, missed messages, and plunged into guilt. Why? Because I’m wired to “fix” underperformance, even when exhaustion demands grace.

What do I do to call it a day?
Nothing. Let go. Let go of Mom’s expectations, the blog stats, the GitHub repos. Let the home loan haunt someone else. This rambling? A lifeline. Typing these words feels like steering a rudderless ship—small, defiant acts of control.

---

The paradox of bad days: They magnify our fragility but also our stubbornness to keep moving. I coded. I napped. I guilt-tripped myself. I wrote. Now, I’ll post this and sleep.

The lesson?
Life’s weight isn’t in grand finales but in the unfinished, the unspoken, the “I’ll fix it tomorrow.” Maybe that’s okay. Maybe survival isn’t about tidying loose ends but learning to walk through the clutter.

Epilogue:
The loan remains. Mom still knows how to push buttons. My GitHub code? Still MIA (missing-in-action). But tonight, I’ll sleep—not because I’ve solved anything, but because I’ve named the chaos. Sometimes, that’s enough.

Temple, Code, and the Quiet Pulse of Progress (2025-May-11)

Other Journaling Days

Morning: At dawn, I drove Akash, Chulbul, and Mahi to Tijara ji, a temple where silence drowns out life’s static. By 8 AM, we’d traded engine hum for incense, then returned to Gurugram’s chaos. Reality bit at the Maruti service center: an old parking lot scrape (courtesy of a rebellious pillar) now demanded insurance forms. Life stitches serenity with spreadsheets.

Afternoon: “What’s the one thing?” My blog nears 1.6M views—a milestone, but not the compass I crave. Yesterday, I coded, blogged, and laughed with Anu, jiju, and Mom. Rohit, ever the paradox, oscillated between genius and gibberish. Today, confusion lingers. Is this directionlessness or growth in disguise?

Post-Lunch: Routine rebels against inertia. I’ll code, skim a DeepLearning.AI course, and draft an AI blog post. Later, GitHub awaits—uploading interview code (fingers crossed). Nothing monumental, just the quiet work that builds futures.

The Lesson: Days like this—temples, repairs, and keystrokes—are life’s scaffolding. Clarity isn’t found in grand gestures but in showing up: for family calls, coding marathons, even parking lot oopsies.

Rohit’s nonsense? A reminder to laugh. The pillar? A metaphor: we all collide with obstacles, repair, and move forward.