Two things have happened to me that have recently changed my value system: I have lived in France for a year, and I have not owned a Smartphone.

For someone who lived and worked in Bangalore, Mumbai and London, I was on track to be a normal, ambitious individual, aiming for success and wealth. I was yearning to prove myself, secure a great job, and get on with settling down in a big city. Then something happened that I did not intend: I learnt better. When the chance came to throw everything away and move to a small town in eastern France with my husband, I did just that. I did not speak the language, did not have a job, did not eat meat, and did not know how to cook. What was I thinking?! For the third time in my life, I was in a foreign land, navigating a new culture and life.

Beginnings were really hard, and most of the time I found myself confused by French priorities. Why was everything about food? Why was no one talking about politics, career, money and possessions? Why did it never come up that I owned a dumb phone? It took me a while but soon enough I found the contentment, calm and peace that prop up the French town life. Nobody talks about possessions because that’s not what life is about. Spare time is not a luxury saved for precious entertainment, but a conscious attempt to experience pleasure. Nobody talks about their career because talking about life is more important. Everyone I met was ambitious and hard-working, but for them, talking about going to the park with their daughter on a sunny Saturday was more important than talking about owning the newest iPhone. 


Life suddenly paused for me, making me see things I had written off or ignored in middle class India. Life is not about proving something to society or about uploading pictures on facebook. It is about the feeling of contentment and peace, of friendships that are not about convenience, of discussions over what gives us happiness – and none of it has to do with money. My husband and I had to live very frugally in France, but we found joy in walks along the river, drinking the cheap wines and hanging out with local friends on park benches.

I began feeling lucky everyday as I conquered previous uncertainties: I got a great job, took French lessons, and started cooking wonderful food that made us very happy. I was living a beautiful life, saving more than I was spending. I wished we could stay on, but American opportunities came calling, and we decided to give it a shot. In the knowledge that we were to move away soon, I did not invest in a Smartphone contract in France. The world moved on in the meantime – whatsApp became the coolest new way to maintain friendships – a convenient way to manage hundreds of acquaintances. “It is as good as local texting, so we don’t have to spend on international texting!” Does it not matter that emailing is free? 


Now living in the States, I am a local text away from a bunch of my old friends. And yet, almost nobody texts me. I am shocked by good friends, who refuse to look at me as I have a serious conversation over dinner, continuously texting on their phone. How did that happen? My mother, speaking to me over skype from halfway across the world, cannot get her eyes off her game as I discuss my portfolio and career path. How did it come to this?

Perhaps the age of deep relationships is over. It is now about acquaintances, possessions, entertainment, and 500+ facebook-friends. As a design researcher, how will this reflect in my work? Should I help design more apps so that more and more of my friends don’t make eye-contact in a conversation? Must I just accept the new life priorities and immerse myself in them? 

Why does one travel? 

Some people travel for entertainment, some for a change, some for a show of prestige, some for exposure. When I look at myself over the years, I realise I have moved from reason to reason, never really understanding why I like to travel. 

Living now in my sixth home in three countries over five years, I believe that travel for me has more to do with people than the place. Looking up at the ceiling in the Pantheon, I wasn’t looking just at the light in the space - I was wondering how the Roman folks built it so long ago. I thought of their determination, of their spirit – of all that is invisible in the remains of their hard work. Gaping at David in Florence, I was thinking of the power of excellence demonstrated by one man. I was thinking of what I can learn from him, of how I must stand my ground as a perfectionist. As I walk through the picturesque pathways of Strasbourg, I think of slums in Mumbai: what decides who deserves an easier life? 

I travel to experience varying priorities: nobody in London stares at you for being well-dressed, while all that matters to a farmer in Mali is whether it will rain well this year. African singer Rokia’s work is deeply affected by military conflict in the country, whereas the French simply cannot do without coffee after lunch. No amount of rain seems to dampen a Mumbaikar’s spirit, but a 1min delay in the London tube upsets everyone. 

Once we are exposed to these extreme priorities, we realise our problems in perspective- the big ones are not as big and the small ones can be smaller. This realization is an education worth a lifetime; certainly worth all reasoning one can gather. Life comes full circle as it dawns on me- this is my work as a design researcher! Travel for perspective, travel to empathise, travel to understand, travel to help. What luck!

Turns out there are no Michelin starred restaurants in India. Not even one. Some people argue that Michelin inspectors have not yet reached India or that they don’t understand Indian cuisine. That’s the typical Indian talking, displaying stubborn faith in their own greatness. Michelin inspectors know what they’re talking about- why else would they award 3-stars to more restaurants in Japan than in France? This is not about east-west distinctions; this is about how food is consumed. Every Michelin starred chef I have heard says the same thing: respect the food, don’t overshadow it; celebrate its original flavour. Marco Pierre White says, “The more you do to food, the more you take away from it.” I don’t remember Indian food this way at all. I only remember spices; dozens piled on vegetables- hiding the vegetables, losing original flavours. Are we eating spices or are we eating vegetables? Can you distinguish between two vegetable curries if the vegetables used are different? I don’t think so. Hot food is different from spicy; and doing something for five thousand years does not make it the right thing to do. Ground conditions today are different from those many centuries ago, and we need a revival. Let’s start with a poached carrot.

I’m such an ageist. How old one is, I have realized, is a very important indicator of the quality & quantity of time I want to give to the relationship. I am certainly losing patience with teenagers – I have no time for arrogance and petty talk. This makes me wonder if people in their 40s today feel the same way about my behaviour. I’m sure they do. Does it matter, and to whom? Ala told me very wisely a long time ago: “When you’re younger, you’re trying to talk about you and what you’ve achieved, but when you get older, you start talking about what’s happening and what’s around. Opinions matter, not achievements.” I understand that now.

“When you come on MasterChef, you come here for a reason: you want to be the next MasterChef. But along the way, you get sidetracked by the people you meet, the experiences you have, the stories you can tell, and the person this competition helps you become.”

Spending time with a friend’s young daughter not only brought back flashes of my childhood but also some food for thought. As I saw the little girl draw a house in her book, I realized she was sketching a building with a steep sloping roof. In middle class India today, not many live in homes with sloping roofs – heck, the girl herself lives in a flat on the sixth floor! I had an uncomfortable thought: is she reconstructing a lesson from memory instead of drawing from what she can see? Are we teaching our children to draw a reconstruction and not what is visible? I find it easier to sketch buildings and geometric shapes because I am reconstructing them from memory; I would struggle to sketch a person sitting in front of me. Are we discouraging learning by observation and encouraging repetition of taught matter? Is this why an architecture student who uses a toilet every day, draws it too small in a submission drawing? This is alarming.

“There are so many similarities in feeling love and sorrow, because it is the peak of what you can possibly feel.”

If you’re a great home cook, where does that figure in your CV? What would a housewife’s CV look like? Would it be a valuable one? There are so many skills to pick up in life, but somehow not all raise your worth when it comes to getting paid. Why is that? I have been spending the last couple of months in the kitchen, with world cuisine exploding in my head, visiting country after country by its food. It has been ridiculously eye opening – I am beginning to understand the power of unique combinations of flavour. And even though it makes me intensely happy, it won’t help me in a job interview as a design strategist. I find it a bit odd. Is personal skill exclusive of work excellence?

Excellence can take you places. Literally. 

It is the eyes. In the one instant that theirs hold yours, one expression changes rapidly into another: from curiosity to raw excitement! The recognition of an Olympic torchbearer in that one instant brings out an uproar first from their eyes, and then from their arms. Sitting in the bus waiting for my turn to carry the flame, I experienced multiple such moments of brilliance: how can one not wave back, especially to the little ones? I could look at me from outside of me: an inspirational figure, an idol. Did I deserve it? Looking around me, I decided I did not. But I began to recognize those who did: sharp and ambitious, warm and humble. Exposure to such company has been the biggest gift of my years in London – and meeting fellow torchbearers has been the highest honour yet.

“Don’t think about problems; think about solutions.” I suppose this has IDE written all over it. Not because we’re always creating solutions, but because we’re always buried knee-deep in problems. If you somehow finally find the wood that is light enough, it is too thin to drill for hinges. If the box is big enough to fit everything inside, it is too big to be carried on the outside. If the bamboo resists steam, it warps too much to hold its shape. If it is easy to mass-produce by injection-moulding, it is unsustainable. If steel is ideal for storage of food, it gets too hot to touch. Each solution presents an additional problem; and we get busy thinking of how to solve the newest one, balancing all its previous solutions. And in one moment of brilliance, solutions interlock and serve up the smartest, simplest design possible. Industrial designers are jugglers – although first timers struggle to hold ground, its fun at the end!

“I wish we had more time when we had the time.”

"I understand that you are sorry, but you’re still not trying.”

How often does it happen that someone says something you desperately want to write down, begging your brain to retain the memory whilst you blink in awe? And what happens when this repeats over and over, thanks to one person who takes you by storm? Short, crisp, accurate and piercing, the words burn my mind. How one deals with remarkably smart people around them, I have realized, is a very important reflection of their learning ability and maturity. No one can escape the awareness of a better decision, better situation or better ability; the key lies in embracing the better, not letting one’s sore ego ignore the revelation.

"The natural evolution from design doing to design thinking reflects the growing recognition on the part of today’s business leaders that design has become too important to be left to designers."

“We should probably buy a pack of cards”, Ashley said as he was briefing us on the Mali shopping list, “I have a feeling we’re going to be stuck outside or inside something, maybe even between something. Given some rope, a book of knots and a pack of cards, we should be happy until we’re rescued!” Surprisingly ecstatic for something that could be fatal, I noted, only to remember the skill requirements for the project: a sense of humor. Even as I got my yellow fever vaccination last month, the advice for rabies prevention was: “Stay away from dogs. If one starts chasing after you, just run faster.” We’re not planning on getting upto any risky business, strictly speaking – only scavenging around the most rural parts of one of the poorest countries in the world, looking for scraps of materials to build a light with. We’re going to return (that’s the hope) with plenty of ‘fun’ stories to tell!

“It is dangerous to put a dreamer in power.”

“Maybe it is not advisable to be an optimist after the age of 30. Maybe pessimism is something we have to start applying daily, like moisturizer. Otherwise, how do you bounce back when reality batters your belief system? Is hope a drug we need to go off of? Or is it keeping us alive?”

Thinking about setting a Tiffany’s solitaire as a goal for my ‘middle age’, I was discussing the grand plan with Smitha. “If you study for an MBA,” she said, “you will lose the value associated with diamonds.” Turns out, DeBeers has been, until recently, manipulating the supply of – therefore controlling prices of – diamonds. With a shockingly dominant position with respect to diamond trading, diamond mining, and industrial diamond manufacturing sectors, it is well known for its monopolistic practices. Naturally then, I should lose interest in the relative value of diamonds. No. I am all the more intrigued and amused. As I realize that we live in a world of relative freedom, thought and progress, absolute value seems irrelevant. Our very existence seems defined by a cost worked backwards from a value that changes with those in power. Even truth has a relative meaning. In this virtual reality, if diamonds are precious, so be it. I want a big one.

“Life is too short to be rolling tape.”

As I was explaining the intent of my summer project at RCA, I was blown away by a friend’s response. “We’re designing a portable lighting device for the rural context of Mali”, I was telling him when he interrupted me to ask- “Designing a light? What is there to design in a light? It’s just a bulb!” Hmm. Where do I start? I have had this conversation many, many times over, and yet I cannot see an escape. No solution, no light, no answers. Why, why?! If the arts are so pointless, why do they even survive today? Why do they exist, and why are they highly valued in developed societies? Why do so many people want to be designers in rich countries, so as to oversubscribe to university seats? “A designer’s work is his reward, unlike Bankers who have to be paid excessively to be kept at their desk.” Is this ever going to be true in the Indian context? This question might just take my lifetime to find a peaceful retreat.

“Nobody ever wins or loses when it comes to women. You just talk about your feelings until your breath is sucked out of your body; all men are pawns when it comes to women, especially the smart ones.”

It is easy to identify good friends – the ones who really care about you and want good things to happen to you – they are behind every expressed doubt, concern and unsure tone. They are the ones who say, “Are you sure about this?” and “You’re being really stupid” or “Just wait. You must learn to have patience.” If somebody corrects you, they’re definitely good-friend-material. If they express an awkward silence to a decision that you secretly know is wrong, they’re doing you a favour. And when they sincerely want to know everything going on in your life from one continent and an ocean away, they’re changing your life.

Some moments in time cannot be erased from memory; they are safeguarded, soft and delicate, in the deep pockets of one’s mind. Those that make some impossibly long journeys worth the wait, those that refresh your tired mind with just one image, those that give you courage to stop doing the wrong things, those that are worth fighting for, and those that keep your faith alive. They are rare and precious – and as I gather them with passing time, I realize I have been deeply fortunate. How did I get here? When did I begin to matter? I cannot believe this feeling – of acceptance and love – and it makes me grateful for this day, all the time accepting that tomorrow might be different. In the meanwhile though, I smile to myself as I think of Varun, and the 15-second hug that was worth it all.

“So who’s the guy in your orbit?” Lol.

It is a liberating thought: Food is not necessarily consumption in the sequence popularized by your default culture, but a delicious mass that fills your stomach. That’s it. It could be anything, in any sequence, as long as it gives you a good feeling and a balanced vitamin intake. Once you’ve realized this, creativity presents itself: mixing random flavours, hunting down unheard-of spices from all over the world (available locally at your nearest Sainsbury, hehe), inventing courses around your favourite vegetables, questioning the aesthetics of a dish, crossing over between salad, curry and dessert, adding by instinct and judging by smell. “What if” explodes your palette, and in most cases, you end up with an “interesting” plate full of food. This circus makes for good self-entertainment, especially after a hard day at IDE!

“What if I had never met you?”

I love surprises, especially the kind that involve intellectual conversations with a stranger at random locations. Waiting for a delayed flight in Ahmedabad, I knew I had one coming my way as soon as a middle aged lady, dressed smartly in a crisp white starched saree, asked me: “May I have a look at your book?” “May I”, I noted. As we dove into conversation, I gathered that she had studied at IIMA more than 20 years ago for an MBA, worked for various firms as a consultant and was currently managing a university. She was sharp, articulate, enormously successful, intimidating, and ambitious. She was proud of what she had achieved, was a self-made person, and had clear goals for her future. Just when I was about to burst into tears for the inspiring picture she was painting for me, there it was: “...you see, I’m unmarried.” OMG. Why, why? I remember being monumentally relieved when I realized Varna Dhar was married – that was the first question on my mind after I learned that she was a Harvard Graduate. And even today, when I realized one of my friends works for Apple, I was overjoyed the first moment, and deeply concerned the next. This is both absolutely mental and severely disturbing. I know more than one woman that I feel for; but I also know those that have partners! I have to, I just have to, believe that there is hope.

“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”

“It seems that men can get out of a relationship without even a goodbye, but apparently women have to either get married, or learn something.”

There is no such thing as ‘perfect’. That word has no meaning in the real world. Not in the context of personality, situation, choice, food, or life itself. It only exists in dreamland and virtual reality: it is a tool used against us in a deeply capitalistic society. When everything around us tries to tell us that we’re not what we should be, it is a powerful feeling to realize that you don’t have to be what someone else thinks you should be. You just don’t. What matters is what’s important to you, and whose expectation you’re trying to live upto. Your own? Your partners’? Your parents’? Life is about making the mistakes, and consciously learning with time. Charlotte’s “oh, it’s not perfect yet!” speech is really annoying me.

Associating India with ‘colour’, ‘culture’ and ‘bollywood’ has been a common theme in England, but when I heard a man couple the name of the country with ‘arranged marriage’, I was taken aback. This is a new development. To my “I’m from India”, he replied with a “Oh, I hope you won’t be forced into arranged marriage! Don’t hurry your life decisions like that, take your time.” And this is the conversation between me and the salesman at Carphone Warehouse, the junkyard of gadgets. India needs an image-makeover.

My nose is trying to fall off my face.

I have missed being alone. I realize this now, enjoying the silence in Ala’s house, all by myself in this beautiful, beautiful house. My body is conversing with the exposed concrete ceiling, agreeing with the full height windows and commending the stark white walls. I am enjoying being the only mobile thing in this flat, peacefully hearing myself breathe. It seems like a luxury, in one of the world’s most expensive cities, to be able to hear yourself think. It’s not too late yet.

What is the job description of a friend? What role are they meant to play in one’s life? “Boyfriends come and go, but friends will always be by your side, standing close to comfort you through the tough times.” How is it possibly their problem, if one decides to do stupid things or is stuck in a bad spot? Why should they invest energy and time into a plummeting situation that does no good for anybody? If patience is what a certain task/phase/event demands, why is it the friends’ job to ‘handle’ the impatient one? “If this does not go well today, I need to know you will be there for me.” What the hell? I feel sad for those who have to “be there” for me – listen endlessly, with patience and no judgment, spending precious time in telling me something I need/want to hear. If tricky situations blur one’s rational thought, is it then the friend’s responsibility to wipe it clean? Towards what cause, to what end? What are the incentives at work here? In this big circus, where does family feature? Do we/should we expect the same from family? This entire system just seems massively unfair to me, and my brain is disagreeing to such dependence. If you have a problem, deal with it. Don’t waste other people’s time.

What happens when you have much to say, and no words to utter? When you’re feeling a ton of emotion, but cannot express it through speech? Your friends cannot understand what’s going through you, and it seems like your body seals all pathways out of itself. That’s when you wonder if we live to communicate, share and express; or to experience absolute emotions on our own. It gives me a high to think that I might know or feel something that is only within me; unspoken and undiluted. This reminds me of keeping secrets – is “being secretive” just an attempt at solo experience? That would be immediately labeled deeply selfish and ‘aloof’. What then, is ‘loneliness’? This cannot be a choice we make, for the word is soaked with sadness. Is there a positive word for aloneness? Are human beings fundamentally social animals or is it something that society slaps on us as we ‘grow’?

Too many questions.

I remember crying, many years ago, over a shoe-bite on my right toe; it was such a big deal – it hurt a lot and nobody seemed to care enough. Yesterday, walking as fast as I could demand from my body, I realized that my toe was bleeding; and only one thought came to my mind – “I don’t have time for such crap.” I kept walking, and this time, it didn’t hurt or bother me, and nobody else knew. I simply washed my feet later, and moved on. Is this what ‘growing up’ does to your life? Shows you the bigger problems that need dealing with, sets priorities so that you realize you’ve been petty your entire life? Manasi put it very well – “I cannot believe we’ve come down to this now – we can’t even have ten minutes of light conversation anymore – it’s all about the unresolved difficulties in life, the big picture, the goals and our directions.” I secretly like this state; feel like it has taken me a while to get here, but I’m here now, and I’ve earned it. I’m finally capable of a ‘mature’ conversation, opinion and direction – and I would much rather be here, today, than at any point back in time. This is why “getting older” doesn’t seem to scare me; 26 doesn’t scare me. It just makes me feel like I’ve come a long way, and have much longer to go.

“You should never be scared to know better,” Mimi slipped into our conversation in Ahmedabad, with a scarily casual tone. Sounds like a simple sentence, that – but it actually is terrifyingly profound: it summed up the reason for my mental struggle back home. Mimi has a powerful command over language and expression – the epitome of crisp words conveying deeply philosophical thoughts. That girl is amazing; I love how everything she says hits me straight in the face – makes me think! I remember many, many such phrases from our conversations – each burned into my brain, forcing me to reconsider existing opinions, re-evaluate situations, and be open-minded. She is easily one of the smartest people I know, and has been an important part of my precious exposure at the RCA.

IDE is driving me crazy: it is making me more and more immune to psychotic behavior – it is stretching out my boundaries of ‘sane’! Every time someone walks through those double doors, I am less and less surprised to see their paraphernalia: cycle tyres, copper-sulphate solutions, pig bones, robot arms, clay butts, spittoons, brain-mapping-devices, metal foam, breast-pumps, popcorn-popping gizmos, etc! “What is that??” is a timeless question, and it remains relevant at all times in the studio :) One random day when I walked to my desk, I saw a 4’ tall plant in a pot, and I’ve enjoyed its company since. Nobody knows where it came from, and why it was at my desk; but I’m perfectly happy with that! Long Live the IDE Studio!

Africa!

Does passion need a trigger to show itself? In terms of an environment, a problem, or opportunity? If Gandhi was born in 1995 into an independent India, how different would his life be? Would the British rule have created a Gandhi earlier? Do circumstances create men of passion or do ‘great’ men perform irrespective of the situation? 23 year old men walked to their deaths for the country 60 years ago – would that happen now, or do we need horrific circumstances to be courageous? I’m amused.

“What is the point of a ball bearing?”, I asked a shocked Aran today afternoon. It sounds so typically me, trying to get to the fundamental truth of everything. My brain has found a wonderful target in Aran; and once past the grin, he and I usually set off on very interesting journeys of logic, working systems and possibilities. What makes for such conversation buddies? A common curiosity? I think it’s much, much more than that. It is the attitude of knowing that you don’t know, be accepting of the fact that what you think is your opinion only. It is about being argumentative but not competitive, to seek the actual truth together. Yes.

Howl.

“Doing nothing is one of my favourite things”, I happened to hear myself say recently – and immediately wondered if it was a commendable thing or not. Doesn’t it almost sound sad, lazy and pathetic? What do I actually do when I’m doing nothing? I’mthinking. Finding food for thought in my surroundings, I’m always looking everywhere. I wonder why things are the way they are, what would happen should someone turn everything around. I question, but do not answer. “You’re very easily amused”, Rahmat keeps saying to me, "I like how you question everything." Who benefitted only by thinking and saying but not doing? Critics? Theorists? Damn.

Watching the Pope at the midnight mass on Christmas eve outside St.Peter’s, I wondered what he must be thinking. What he must be going through, judging himself against, expecting from himself. Wonder what mattered to him most at that point? How his fellow peers looked up to him? Or scrutinized him? Or how thousands of people within and outside the church symbolized him as a messenger of God himself? Who was he living up to? I think no matter how high you go in life, you’re always living up to your peers, forgetting how much you impact the rest. Why do we keep raising our own expectations? Is it for a sense of self-achievement? Or respect from peers? What about those whose lives we're changing? Earning respect from peers/critics Vs inspiring hundreds of people: which is more valuable, more purposeful, more satisfying?

“Empty your brain” is the concept generation strategy at IDE. Very different from my previous understanding of the beginning to a project, I don’t yet know if this is working for me. “Pour it all out on paper,” they keep saying - fast, more and many is the aim here - as opposed to my previous understanding of one idea, one thought, one intent. “This ‘one idea’ ain’t coming to you, you need to get off your ass to get to it.” “If you cannot generate 30 ideas in 30 minutes, you shouldn’t be here,” Ashley once said to the class – does this reduce the intensity of passion for an idea? Or does it actually place it in a context and avoid being carried away to neverland? “You have to be able to let go of the brilliant idea for some grounding, only to return to it with more context”, Ravikumar Kashi told me – how important is it to let your brain rest before you reassess your idea? I realize now that ideas can be generated out of ideas – it is a journey, not an unexplained spark. Is this what ‘options’ means?

“You are the backbone of this kitchen”, I was telling Dina as she shifted the big pile of washed vessels into the cupboard – “What would we do without you!” Trust a geeky biologist to say, “Well, we would be invertebrates!” Lol. Every sentence in this house begins with “Biologically speaking..” or “According to the theory of evolution-”. Jeez. What was I thinking, agreeing to stay with not one, but three such cartoons!

“Where are you from?” is a very difficult question to answer, sitting in a restaurant in Brussels - what with being a Maharashtrian from Bangalore, studying in London. As Jacob said, “It’s not where you are from, it’s where you are now.” Yale boy, will make for a smart diplomat. Missing international trains can sometimes be rewarding.

I’m still a big architectural geek. One trip to the TU Delft Library, and I’m on a high – blown away by the volume, light and spaces: I’m in dreamland still - speaking of human emotion, scale and experience. Not to mention the finishing materials, their meeting edges, frames, foreground and lines of sight. Clicking away on an SLR, I’m amused by my own excitement. No matter how deep I zoom into product design, their working systems and building exercises, my body still understands the language of the architectural scale. Additionally, I can now feel the strength that products bring to a space, the impact an installation has within a volume, and the potential of an integration. RCA: good call.

“You might be locked into a world not of your own making, but you still have a claim on how it is shaped. You still have responsibilities.”

I realized recently that Valentine’s Day actually means something – it stands as a dedication to the man who displayed magnificent valor in favour of a faith, a trust in companionship; it is a symbol of survival, of hope and of victory. Why must it be looked down upon as a cumbersome public display of an alien culture? If Poland and Germany can celebrate the same event together, why not Asia? How does an Asian man’s passion differ from an American’s? Geographical boundaries are meaning lesser and lesser to me with time. Look at how the ultimate Christian festival affects almost all our lives today. Why are some accepted and the others not? Valentine’s Day is the celebration of the bravery and grit of a man who believed in the strength of companionship, and risked his life for it. How different is his conviction from that of Gandhi? Or of Mother Teresa? How do we calculate the respectability of an action or event? Is it not the passion itself but the intent that the passion serves? The Greeks only asked one question when a man died – “Did he live with passion?”. Have we now evolved to qualify only certain ambitions of a passion as ‘great’?

“How do you define maturity?”, Rahmat asked me out of the blue as we were watching Friends on TV yesterday. She has this seemingly effortless ability of framing questions around the most deeply sought-after knowledge. It amazes me, how she yearns to understand, comprehend and grow – continuously looking to make sense of her world. I am her junkbox, I think – and as she keeps shooting questions at me, I try and gather myself as quickly as possible after the shock, and give her my thoughts- trying to articulate, analyze and understand my own self. She makes me think, rethink and be more articulate than I have ever been. She makes me realize I think differently with time, with each experience, event and action - she has contributed to my mental shift of context- one of my most powerful realizations ever. When she contests my opinions is when it gets very interesting – and I am highly enjoying being on the other side of questions for a change!