In the Midst of Execution: A Reflection on Effort, People, & the Self

 In the Midst of Execution: A Reflection on Effort, People, & the Self

This reflection was written at dawn during a work stay at HAL Guest House, Sunabeda. Amidst physical fatigue and professional tension, the writer meditates on the layered reality of execution — its frustrations, responsibilities, and the personal transformation it entails. What emerges is not just a project journal, but a thoughtful exploration of effort, interdependence, control, and meaning — a reflection of one man’s journey in the public sphere, navigating between outer results and inner order.

Since yesterday, I have not been feeling well. Even then, I exerted myself on site — despite weakness — and expressed my anguish at the slow pace of the Academic Block. We try to remain sincere, vigilant, demanding, and closely involved, and yet things still fall apart. It becomes a case of “Man proposes, God disposes.” Actual execution is riddled with ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’, and while people outside form judgments and hold high expectations, they rarely see the complexity within. Still, visits, inspections, direction, and motivation do matter. People must be cajoled, made to understand urgency, awakened from slumber, checked, questioned, pushed — made to feel and act. An able leader must raise the situation, set the house in order, and exert influence so that others exert themselves too.

It is people who must act — and they often come with limitations, dependencies, and excuses. The real cause of the delay often remains hidden behind explanations and assurances. Manpower and material are difficult to arrange; frustrations surface. One’s fate often lies in others’ hands, even while one is held accountable. Leadership, then, is not total control but a painful orchestration of planning, resourcing, monitoring, motivating, correcting, producing, testing, and handing over — a cycle that demands both strategic clarity and emotional stamina. Yet one must bear awkward conversations, conflicting expectations, and delayed results, all while continuing to lead, persuade, and re-align people who may be lost in inertia or vagueness.

In such roles, one cannot flee. We must face the music, absorb dissatisfaction, explain slippages, and shoulder responsibility. Life demands balance, yet our balance is constantly disturbed by others’ imbalances. Targets are set and missed, things move slowly, people avoid responsibility, and realities remain unspoken. Expediency hovers, yet outcomes remain elusive. True results demand more than shifting from task to task — they must be sculpted, fine-tuned, textured, and completed with care. Only then do we meet the eyes of stakeholders, users, clients, and the public. And in this process, leadership becomes more than authority — it becomes presence, pain-sharing, truth-telling, forgiveness, and direction-giving — all at once.

Still, no leader can lead without personal wellness. One’s health, both mental and physical, is essential for sustained effort. Waiting is part of the journey, but not losing spirit. We must endure slippages, face discomfort, and keep communicating needs clearly. One must strive to turn things in one’s favor without falling into fear or fatigue. Results must be checked objectively, but efforts must remain rooted in subjective will. Life, after all, is only one — and it must be filled with experiences of every sort, even if not all go as planned. Amid the chaos of planning and urgency, we can only attend to one branch at a time, ensuring we don't skip roots in our haste.

Clients are increasingly proactive — they demand performance, timelines, and outcomes. They question, pressurize, and expect accountability. That is their right. And being in public service, we must listen, respect their stakes, and deliver, not through complaints, but through calm responsibility. My life finds meaning when I strive with full effort, when I turn pressure into planning, and disorder into design. And while life often feels 20–30% efficient at best, it still pushes us forward — into urgency, into expectation, into clarity. We don’t always succeed, but the journey refines us. A life well tried and tested is a life that shows you your strengths, your cracks, and your ability to rise.

And that, perhaps, is enough. These things are hard to explain and harder to reduce into polished language. We may repeat ourselves in different words, but each expression has its value. Each piece of writing, each act of reflection, is a suomoto offering of the self, not for judgment, but for understanding. Yes, everything can be simplified into rules. But even then, human beings will continue to write, to reflect, to bring their minds to paper. I am like that. I scribble as the pen demands. The quality may not be in my hands, but I walk as the path unfolds beneath me.

 

Pawan Kumar,

10^th July 2025, Thursday, 12.37 A.M. (Midnight), Berhampur (Odisha)

From my Diary 26th October 2024, Saturday, 7.48 A.M., HAL Guest House, Sunabeda, Koraput  (Odisha)

 

The Stream of Being

 The Stream of Being

 This essay is a contemplative journey into the timeless questions of existence, ancestry, and the nature of consciousness. It explores how one’s life is not a solitary flame but a continuation of countless flickers that came before. Drawing from personal introspection, cultural observations, and natural cycles, it reflects on the fragile yet eternal nature of life. The boundaries between self and universe blur, revealing a deeper unity of being. Through this search, the writer does not seek definitive answers, but an understanding that births peace in the presence of mystery. Where appropriate, a light infusion of scientific insight helps align personal reflection with modern understanding.

I find myself entering a quiet but urgent phase of learning, tracing the deep-rooted questions that have stirred in my mind since I first began to think. Over time, through books and reflection, I have come to articulate some of them with clarity, yet many remain beyond comprehension. They linger—neither surfacing completely nor fading away. Still, an unshakable anguish passes through this body-mind, seeking answers to questions I cannot yet form. I don’t even know how to ask about my own existence.

Perhaps birth has a purpose. Perhaps I am simply a speck of dust in the infinite flow of inheritance, present here only because an unbroken thread, stretched across the vastness of time, has brought me forth. My forefathers, against all odds—wars, diseases, hunger, accidents, infertility, or sheer chance—survived. I exist because they did not perish. This lineage, uninterrupted, brought me to this place and moment in the incessant unfolding of time. I am grateful and fortunate to witness this era of being.

Evolutionary biology tells us that I am not simply born of two parents but of an unbroken succession of adaptive survivors. My very DNA, particularly the mitochondrial line, carries markers passed from mother to child across millennia. I am a living archive of resilience, a vessel of silent, coded history.

Yet what am I but an assembly of scattered parts? I am formed from the elements of this Earth, drawn together in a particular arrangement, just as others before me were. In me, a continual exchange takes place—of thoughts, cells, breath, impulses, and ancestry. Inputs from countless sources are shaping me, and I, too, release my own into the world. I am everything, and everything is me. The connection is not metaphorical—it is molecular, spiritual, and indivisible. Systems biology reminds us that no organism is isolated; life is exchange. Thermodynamically, I am an open system—shedding and absorbing atoms, heat, and thought. Matter cycles through me like wind through trees.

This body is my home, the cave where consciousness resides. I must preserve it well so that the soul within finds safety. I must nourish both the body and the mind, knowing they are one and the same. My very existence rests on this harmony. Neuroscience, too, teaches that consciousness is not confined to the brain—it is embodied. Thought emerges from networks of nerve, skin, muscle, and breath. What I feel, how I move, even how I remember—all these give shape to the mind.

Across time, humans have tried to preserve what they feared to lose—Egyptians embalming bodies with balms and jewels, and Himalayan Tibetan Buddhists preparing mummified monks with care and reverence. These are not foolish rituals; they are expressions of longing. I do not share these beliefs, but I understand their impulse to hold on to presence even after life has passed. We grieve our kin and leaders, preserve their memories in stories and shrines, though we know our own moments are numbered.

Sometimes I wonder: what about those who left no trace? Those who died without descendants, lost to wars, plagues, or anonymity—do they vanish entirely? Or do they echo in other forms—unnoticed, yet never truly gone? A mindful person begins to see that nothing is isolated. Even this ink that flows onto paper carries within it the essence of something once living. The paper, the air, the hand that writes—they are not separate. Aliveness surrounds us, but not always in conscious form.

My father has been gone these twelve years, but he still lives in me—through my voice, temperament, body, gestures, and genetic fabric. My mother, too, is present in the curl of my hair, the tilt of a smile, the impulses I do not understand. I am their continuation, just as someone after me may carry pieces of me forward. Epigenetics suggests that even lived experiences, traumas, and fears may be imprinted biologically, subtly passed onward. We are not just descendants; we are transmitters.

Nature, too, has its law. It cannot carry all life at once. So it creates trials—only the fit survive. This is not cruelty but balance. The deer must run from the lion, and the lion must run for its food. If either fails, both perish. Ecology shows us this law of energy and balance, where each creature contributes to the stability of the whole. There is no charity, only participation. Still, we must carry the spirit of kindness and do what we can—for that, too, is part of our inheritance.

Whether I remain here or not, my existence has already expanded far beyond this moment. I was. I am. I will be—until the last flicker of everything. The question of perpetuity answers itself not with logic, but with presence. Let there be no ceremonious anxiety over birth, living, or death.

And if I dissolve back into dust, let me do so with grace, knowing that I was, that I am, and that I always will be in one form or another.

“You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.”
— Rumi

Pawan Kumar,

2nd July, 2025, Wednesday, 11:39 P.M., Berhampur (Odisha)

From my Diary 22nd November 2024, Friday, 10:16 AM, Berhampur (Odisha)

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To Grow Is to Roam and Return

To Grow Is to Roam and Return

This reflective poem explores the relationship between solitude & exploration — between the quiet of thought & the stimulation of the world. It argues that true creativity emerges not from choosing one over the other, but from moving between the two.

Drawing from everyday observations, philosophical musings, and lived experience, it weaves a journey from local roots to global awareness, and back into personal expression. Through its rhythmic structure, the piece emphasizes that growth is conscious, balance is essential, and life is both a mirror and a window.

It invites the reader to ask: Am I becoming, or merely repeating? To Grow Is to Roam and Return reminds us that every outward step should deepen the inward voice.

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When is a person most creative — while travelling far or sitting still?
Both paths shape us deeply, and each gives something real.

Our outings add freshness — we see and hear the world anew.
We step beyond our mental walls into a sky of richer hue.
We sense the vastness, far beyond what quiet minds conceive.
Old beliefs dissolve like clouds — our worldview starts to breathe.

In life, we build mindsets, often fixed in a silent stone.
Unless we're stirred or challenged, we retreat and sit alone.
Yes, we need our silence — a space for peace and breath,
But solitude must still belong to something larger than self.

We connect through daily duties, errands, voices & streets.
In passing conversations, we find where inner and outer meet.
Each one may seem small alone, but together they rise in mass.
We merge and then emerge, each time with something to grasp.

The question of who's right is not one we can hold.
Truth slips with time — even wise words grow old.
We build ideas and theories we think might be true,
But every “fact” is shaped by time’s ever-changing hue.

We travel to new places, where cultures live and breathe,
Where tongues are strange, and customs wear different wreaths.
Gods are made, meals differ, beliefs are shaped by land —
Some are taught not to ask, only to understand.

Suppose we live in Kangra’s hills, where mountains hush the day.
Our world is shaped by elders, and we walk a narrow way.
We learn what's given, rarely asked to stretch or doubt,
So thoughts remain within, and seldom travel out.

To grow beyond such borders, we must step through the door.
‘Small is beautiful’ holds true, but when tied to something more.
Few are lucky, bold, or stirred enough to leave their comfort zone,
To fling themselves into the wide, uncertain, ever-growing unknown.

Travel still shows fragments — we never grasp the whole.
But even one new broad vision can reshape the soul.
Touching something foreign doesn’t make it ours alone,
But even passing moments plant seeds we might own.

We should see museums, walk in fairs, breathe parks & art.
Watch foreign lands in films, see how other people start.
Some have risen high through learning, love, and care —
They build a world that nurtures all with dignity and air.

Harsher lands exist, and yet many bloom with grace.
They’ve turned nature to wonder, shaped with time & place.
By seeing such, we better know the space where we reside,
And how others strive with dreams that burn inside.

We come from loving parents, yet with limited means & sight.
So we must reach beyond them, toward broader beams of light.
We build this through our schools, our play, our shared events,
Through tours, exchanges, and programs of deeper intent.

Competitions teach us to rise, to strive from local to wide.
They ask us to prepare, to measure, to rise with pride.
We can't be content while the world moves on its way —
To know our capacity, we must push into the fray.

Yes, some will pull us down with envy, noise, or fear.
But we must break the inertia — apply that needed gear.
Newton’s first law still holds: no move without a shove.
We must push with books & effort, with questions & with love.

The wise remind us gently — we know very little, still.
But through each opened window, we find a deeper will.
Remaining open helps us learn just where we stand,
And how much more we must do with mind and hand.

This world is uneven — some rise while others fall.
Those behind must toil harder to level what we call
A fair & earned respect — through habits sharp & strong,
And faith in work and purpose to carry them along.

As I read about cultures, sciences, literature, & thought,
I find myself expanding, drawn into a deeper knot.
The world, in bits & pieces, enters through the mind,
And urges me to shift, to leave no growth behind.

The world reshapes my silence — its sights, talks & light.
Though I roam wide, I must return to rest and write.
My mind replays the images, the moments, and the sound —
It weighs, discards, or welcomes all that the day has found.

When I'm alone, and still, and the mind is moved to speak,
I draw what’s stored within, what thought and feeling seek.
Some may sing or draw instead — there's no one right way,
But words remain, and speak again, long after memory’s day.

My meditations form from what the world has shown.
They build within, give judgment, roots to what was grown.
We’re always in formation — more input keeps us bright.
Our outings are those sacred sparks that help us find our light.

Yet balance must be kept — experience must become art.
We must digest what’s gathered and discard the waste.
We cannot only take, but also must use what we consume.
For life is a conscious learning — its flower, thought in bloom.

 

Pawan Kumar,

27^th June, 2025, Friday, Time 8:34 A.M., Berhampur (Odisha)

(From my diary, 11th October 2020, Sunday, 4:07 PM, New Delhi)

 

 

A Little Knowing, A Great Becoming

Life’s journey is full of mysteries, challenges, and learning curves. Each day brings fresh struggles & opportunities for growth. This reflection explores the tension between knowing & ignorance, the limits imposed by time & mind, and the silent mission to nurture one’s self into a treasure of enlightenment. It is a personal meditation on embracing small knowledge and striving beyond, no matter how tiny the steps.

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Reflection

Every day is a challenge, and the body and mind
Take different routes without a control or guide.
Life is a labyrinth—it jumbles by itself,
And some solution arrives, slow but sure, with time.

Indeed, life’s puzzle is never fully solved—
At least not by the individual’s own hands—
He lives with these gaps, these deficiencies known,
Knowing well, he’s small in Providence’s grand plan.

Examples are many: I own a mobile phone,
With apps that could make life so much more smooth.
But I don’t know how to use them, and remain ignorant,
And simply work with the little that I know.

I sit in a car every day, but know not its parts,
Nor how all systems work to give me a smooth ride.
I am content with this little knowledge—just sit back,
The driver drives; the mechanic will repair as needed.

I have a laptop computer, vast as a sea—
Its knowledge could make me a Bill Gates in time.
But I lack the urge, do not try, and perhaps will never
Understand its depths beyond my humble reach.

Admittedly, one cannot know the whole,
But must bear the pain of knowing too little, still.
This is life’s great compromise—the little we hold—
Perhaps a foolish world where all know but a bit.

Some try to rise above their ignorance, but face
A vast, enormous field far too wide to grasp.
Body and mind have limits, practical and firm—
Time, energy, and age make many things impossible.

Yes, with effort, perhaps we can know a little more,
More than if we didn’t try at all to learn or grow.
But here lies the crux—each one is given a choice,
Some freedom in how they treat themselves in this regard.

Man is given intellect by providence’s grace,
Which he may use for growth, to develop himself.
Though sometimes we block each other’s paths with schemes,
At times, we support for reasons deep and true.

Life’s span is limited, mostly passed in routine:
Eating, working, going out, sleeping, and so on.
What best time you can carve out just for yourself?
Very little—and that little must be wisely used.

Within one’s limits, try to reach the highest peak,
It is possible—one must strive with all their heart.
The problem is that others can only help a little—
You must show your intentions clearly to see results.

A life with a mission focused on the self—
The self is a project to develop beautifully.
Try at least what lies within your bounded limits,
And some respite will come, to grow and flourish well.

Even a single day of true enlightenment—
More precious than the full wealth of all today.
It is a personal treasure none can ever match,
So we should all strive with passion to outshine.

Pawan Kumar,

9th June, 2025 Berhampur (Odisha) Time 9:06 A.M.

From my Diary (A Morning Reflection — 1st April 2021, Thursday, 8.39 A.M. New Delhi)

Before Life Starts

Before Life Starts

This poem explores the feeling of uncertainty & introspection before embarking on the journey of self-discovery & life's true meaning. Written in a reflective tone, it delves into themes of personal growth, the longing for clarity, and the aspiration to break free from the limits we impose on ourselves. It captures the fragile balance between seeking understanding and coming to terms with one’s place in the vastness of life and the universe.

 

Lying in bed, neck on the bedhead pillows

Nothing in the mind, just dare to open some windows.

Where this hand takes me, nothing is known
Embroiled in myriads, feel everything is forgone.
What is my role in the life yet to come?
I am just sleeping, and life has not begun.

A mirror of life—I long to see in my face
To know how I stand, and what is my base.
The commentary on life was once my dream
But perhaps forgotten now in life’s real stream.

Everything feels empty, both in mind and sight
Mired in darkness, with no glimpse of light.
I dreamt, someday I’d take a long flight
But when that day comes, the wait is a fight.

Immaturity of mind and personality, I see
Yet I yearn for some sanity in me.
Not just passing through nights and days
But standing forthright, finding new ways.

Your kindness alone shall help pave my way
If only you’d find time to embrace my dismay.
Neither the pleasure of sleeping nor dreaming
But to see life truly, in its living and meaning.

When the goddess of learning shall grant her boons
Though I’ve done little to earn her silver spoons.
The essence of life, I haven’t grasped yet
Even so, I aspire to be her quiet pet.

Essentialities of life I can chart into
Dignities of Eternity I can fit into.
Responsibilities toward self I must own and see,
And life—mine and the world’s—is true to be.

 

Pawan Kumar,

20^th April 2025, Sunday, 12.28 P.M., Berhampur (Odisha),

From my Diary dated  22^nd August 2009, Saturday, 11.50 PM

 

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About the Author:

Pawan Kumar is a contemplative writer and poet who reflects deeply on life’s struggles, joys, and uncertainties. His works explore themes of self-awareness, personal growth, and the eternal search for meaning in both the mundane and extraordinary. Often using poetry as a means of personal reflection, the author is driven by the pursuit of clarity, embracing both vulnerability and strength in the process of self-discovery. The author finds inspiration from their journey through life, always striving to understand the universe’s vastness and his place within it.

🖼️ The Canvas Within A Reflection on Self, Struggle, and the Subtle Purpose of Life

🖼️ The Canvas Within

(A Reflection on Self, Struggle, and the Subtle Purpose of Life)

✨ Introduction

We often find ourselves swept up in the everyday—meeting deadlines, meeting expectations, and managing tasks, while barely pausing to ask: What are we becoming? This piece is a quiet journey into that question. Through reflection on the mundane and the meaningful, I’ve tried to explore how we shape our lives—and how, in turn, our lives shape us.

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📜 Main Essay

Yes, a man ought to see the broad canvas of life—add sweetness to the daily mundane work sphere around and make that time the most useful. We are all, in some way or another, fastened into many kinds of traps daily—caught pondering over the situation and what can be done with it, often wrapped in some form of anxiety: how to handle the given tasks efficiently and earn the accolades of others, particularly seniors. We judge situations from our standards, lifestyles, mentalities, and attitudes—how we interpret Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, and Threats (SWOT), along with our inner perplexities and hesitations. Then we decide—how or whether—to act on the tasks in front of us.

An able person always fills himself with meaningful tasks, even if they are not outwardly imposed. We often find ourselves burdened by others' expectations—whether we meet them or not. Yet, depending on how our sincerity and working style are perceived, people form their opinions about our usefulness, adequacy, and reliability. Life becomes a bundle of mental constructions—not just our own, but those others make about us. These constructions don’t form overnight; our subconscious, over time, processes each interaction and influence—and we respond accordingly.

We make perceptions ourselves, but those too are shaped by how others behave, react, respond, communicate, and present themselves. We observe how an individual supports us in shared pursuits, how they engage in learning, and how much they commit themselves to producing results that serve a common purpose.

In truth, we are complex machines in ourselves, working incessantly on the innumerable facts spread around—especially the immediate ones. We may not be grand visionaries, often unable to see beyond the pressing needs of the day. Daily chores consume so much time and energy that little is left for deeper pursuits—the “Doodle-Dos.” Some get absorbed into superficialities: the externals, the pass-times, the fake smiles, the opinions formed too quickly, even as they carry deep doubts about their ability or worth.

This is the paradox—we often fail to shape our present in a way that prepares us for the best possible future. We feel fractured, fragmented, uncertain, hollow at times. Yet with just a little more effort, a little more inner work, we could cultivate the trust, appreciation, and worth we seek—not from others alone, but from within.

If we are to act within a system, we must learn to sit with the appropriate thoughts, correct faults, strengthen the inner being, realign ourselves with purpose, and come above the pettiness that binds us. We must remember: that we have been given enough time and energy—we only need to redirect them wisely.

We must strive to understand our broader reason for coming into this life. To advocate the right values. To inspire the good in others. It is a quiet tragedy when people die silent deaths—never knowing their truest selves, never stepping outside their self-constructed limits, never seeing themselves as part of a greater design.

Why can’t we come out as strong men and women—breaking all the shackles that hold us down? Why can’t we rise, proving to the world we are second to none? We, too, can help this world run better. We can build a better understanding. We can spread light. We can connect in a common cause, purge our vices, and begin walking the path that leads us to universal truth.

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🌌 Closing Thought

Admittedly, we are small in ourselves—perhaps even like specks of dust. But we are also cogs in the broader scheme of the Universe. That, perhaps, is the essence of life: to dedicate ourselves to that higher unfolding.

And now, especially with the divine grace we cherish, the cause becomes even more sacred. It must inspire us to become better human beings—helping one and all, with sincerity, strength, and a deeper commitment to the good.

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Pawan Kumar,

Berhampur, 6^th April 2025, Sunday, Time 1:49 A.M.

From Berhampur (Odisha) diary dated 5^th December 2024, Thursday, 9.46 A.M.

✍️ About the Author

A quiet thinker rooted in everyday experiences, the author reflects on self-worth, spiritual insight, and subtle inner growth. His voice resonates with those who seek purpose amidst routine and peace within the effort. He writes not to preach—but to pause, and understand.