One World, One Self

One World, One Self

This morning reflection explores the idea of the essential unity of life and the shared origin of all beings. It moves between universal philosophy & observations on society, faith, and human behaviour, while locating the self within a larger cosmic journey. The note expresses an honest attempt to understand life through knowledge, experience, and reflection — seeking movement from limitation toward a broader realisation of unity & truth.

A man must venture into grand realms around him and acquire Nature's knowledge for practical day-to-day living. Our purpose in life is to love adequately, stupendously, with fulfilment & realisation. This gives life its gift and relegates falsehoods & inadequacies, bringing a grand realisation.

Ultimately, a wise man has to attain liberation through knowledge — that nothing is foreign, there is no duality, everything is me, and there is no differentiation of any kind among creatures. We are to honour them all, for they are our siblings of yore, all emerging from the same one conscious primogenitor. All basic elements in everybody are the same; we must behave with all as if we are interacting with ourselves. This world is our home only, and we are all its dwellers under one roof.

All earth-resources are common — each has equal rights on them; everything belongs to all. All the Earth's materials, places, cultures, philosophies, knowledge, libraries, methods, arts, scriptures, penances, reformations, habits, and survival-tactics belong to all. Similarly, all backward & forward, undeveloped, developing, and developed; wise & foolish; educated & uneducated; cultured & savage; mainstream or away from it — all belong to us. Also, all types of earth parts — oceans, plains, fertile regions, deserts, icy areas, mountains, hills, rivers, nallahs, lakes — hot or cold, difficult or easy — all are our assets only.

I am very aware of the theories around, whether I like them or not. But they guzzle my energy & time. Each one here in the world is a philosopher of his own kind, suited to his needs & temperament, which speaks much of his deep cravings in the annals. Being a universal Man, I cannot ignore political or otherwise personal & social intentions that try to claim superiority above the general masses. People build their notions unnecessarily based on selfishness & strength; they take support from mighty ones and try to impose their superiority upon others. Often, they do not allow others time to express or vent out repressed feelings, and aim to keep large sections of humanity below them.

They believe they know all true philosophies and are direct messengers of the Almighty on this Earth, believing that only they are correct and not otherwise. They speak big words, appease big masters, and claim boldness in defending their cultures. They learn some tricks and display them before ignorant & gullible people who crave respite from struggles, strife, strains, pains, weaknesses, drudgeries, indebtedness, diseases, mismanagement, illiteracy, poor health, imposed lowliness, inexpressibilities, and injustices inflicted by the powerful, with little competence earned due to inimical factors and no other options seen around.

People want to listen to kind & sweet words, and if spoken by a robed or so-called godman, they feel they have gained a glimpse of direct divinity. We see a cult-like feeling growing among individuals. Masters want followers to obey blindly without using their own minds, warning them not to apply logic, as faith alone is declared supreme. They discourage discussion & argument, insisting only on unquestioning acceptance. With large advertisement hoardings & organised gatherings, they attract followers to camps and storytelling programmes, disseminating their philosophies. Everyone seems eager to grab attention, presenting themselves as wise, mighty, or enlightened. I do not understand such a craving for publicity; if one is truly good, one should be satiated within the near ambience.

I see will-imposition by miracle-men who accumulate wealth & property in the name of a cult or religion, attracting as many gullible followers as possible. Their centres become profit-earning establishments & tourist-like attractions. We see ordinary men becoming colossi through luck & political patronage, perhaps with some hard work also. 

Ultimately, I remain in many realms at one time, brood a lot over my surroundings, and make up my mind to express good or bad. The ultimate stake I do not know, yet that urge lies deep in my core. I am little, but try to be with Grand - Universe. Perhaps this is my journey — from simple to complex, from darkness to the light, from falsehood to truth, and from mortality toward immortality or liberation. All are growing in their way — I, too, am growing. Let us see where we all reach; perhaps the goal is the same.

 

Pawan Kumar,

Brahmpur (Odisha) dated 28^th February 2026, Saturday, 11.13 PM

(From my Brahmpur (Odisha) diary dated 3rd March 2025, Monday, 9.02 AM) 

A Note to Steady Myself

A Note to Steady Myself

This piece is a record of self-counselling written during mental & professional strain. It does not aim to resolve problems, but to regulate energy, judgment, and conduct. The writing functions as a pause—a way to examine reactions, limit excess engagement, and restore balance while remaining responsible. It is not meant as instruction, but as a private calibration made public only because the struggles it reflects are shared by many. The intent is steadiness, not perfection; clarity, not closure.

 

Everything takes its time; even the mind needs time to heal.
Days feel cumbersome & draining; discussions often do not soothe.

One tries to remain calm, yet situations provoke awkward, unavoidable involvement.
Things meant to sail smoothly become unnecessarily uneasy and draining.
One struggles and spends precious energy on better & productive causes.
Thus, outcomes suffer, targets stagnate, and frustration slowly settles in.

There is much to handle; helping hands exist, yet difficulty persists.
When matters spread wide, control weakens, and one may easily stray.
Daily damages occur if alertness drops; capable support feels limited.
Self-interest operates too; many try to escape duties as cheaply as possible.

I realise issues deserve limited time; otherwise, unwanted troubles erupt.
Discussions must stay specific; good solutions slip when attention scatters.
We may have time to sit; others may not share that liberty.
We think we control everything, yet outcomes rest in others’ hands.

One must respect seniors in age, knowledge, and lived experience.
Avoid circumstances that create discomfort for oneself and others.
Time teaches slowly; nobody becomes mature or masterful suddenly.
Experience & daily interaction give footing, though progress feels gradual.

With little authority, one begins believing oneself greater than reality.
That happens; still, one must judge where one truly stands.
Positions are slippery; firm grounding prevents unnecessary rise & fall.
Enthusiasm helps, yet dual authorities must be consciously minimised.

The mind works vividly; the body often struggles to match that pace.
Criticising others comes easily; self-conduct avoids equal scrutiny.
One must grasp life’s subtle game plans and move steadily through them.
Checking oneself repeatedly prevents frequent inward slipping.

Awkward situations burden the body; unexplained headaches quietly begin.
Many realms deserve respect, yet one must protect energies.
Protection means strengthening oneself to face the coming challenges.
Pauses are necessary, too, and destiny unfolds tests in many forms.

Do we design daily affairs, or do they simply fall upon us?
The world notices effort when responsibility is handled sincerely.
Some situations sting deeply and shake one from within.
A wise person chooses responses; character quietly lifts him upward.

One should feel pride in work and speak when required.
This is not silent acceptance, but an effort to correct wrongs.
A questioning spirit is healthy; answers need patience and clarity.
Answers emerge as reactions shaped by proper understanding.

I tend to conserve energy and do meaningful work sincerely.
Yet assistance from those around should never be ignored.
One must not hesitate to ask for help when a genuine need arises.
Some will come forward, and the world is not entirely harsh.

One should challenge oneself daily, yet release inner strain gently.
Each day forms a chapter; therefore, live it with attentive effort.
Like leaves nourished by earth, growth needs quiet sustenance.
Life continues; each moment deserves a worthy passage.

I should remain democratic, respecting opinions that differ from mine.
Yet decisions must be timely; life rarely grants repeated chances.
Respect should not disturb one’s rightful growth and direction.
Unwanted hindrances drain energy; time comes only in fragments.

O inner self, remain placid and capable of chosen goals.
Let part of my energy serve the larger survival of this world.

 

Pawan Kumar,

24^th February 2026, Tuesday, 12.34 AM (Midnight)

(From my Mahendergarh diary, 5th October 2018, Friday, 8.56 A.M.

Learning from Great Minds and Education’s Levelling Power

Learning from Great Minds and Education’s Levelling Power

This morning reflection records thoughts after listening to global thinkers and observing how education brings people of diverse backgrounds together. The author sees education, scientific temper, and open dialogue as bridges between communities and as tools for reducing prejudice. The note is both personal & civic—a reminder that continuous learning, humility, and rational thinking can gradually create a more equal & harmonious society.

Listening to great minds is certainly a matter of fortune; we invite good traits.
We begin thinking in better directions for the masses and how lives improve.

Education is the biggest leveller in school & college environments for prospects.
Here, pupils of different backgrounds & social statuses congregate and share views.
Slowly, they mingle, interact, and understand each other’s thoughts & behaviour.
They modify their own pitfalls, and friendship develops through regular contact.

The ultimate goal of education is to raise oneself to understand humanity.
We look at separate pieces, yet in truth remain very close and sibling-like.
We must forgo ego & pride, and speak with humility and brotherhood.
Soon, congeniality grows, and cooperation arises naturally among people.

We may recognise our backgrounds, parentage, education, and economic levels.
But that alone is not sufficient; we must become people-oriented.
Human beings are the most precious assets, and if trained, can uplift society.
Ordinary persons can rise high and taste many forms of inner ecstasy.

I saw a YouTube video of SPIEF-18 International Economic Forum, St. Petersburg, Russia.
The main speakers were futurist scientist Michio Kaku and Jaggi Sadguru from India.
The anchor was Sophie Shevardnadze, granddaughter of USSR’s former foreign minister.
Two more speakers were present, and a meaningful interaction was going on.

Kaku spoke about the future of the internet, artificial intelligence, and robotics.
Bio-mechanics, self-driven cars, and machine intelligence may pervade every sphere.
Ageing may be reduced as substitutes for worn-out body parts become available.
Man may gain powers once imagined only for the gods of earlier myths.

He said technology in the coming decades may enable humans to achieve much.
Yet problems arise if robots start thinking and overpower human intelligence.
The internet may rewrite education systems and strengthen democracies worldwide.
Children across nations may connect closely and avoid hatred or violence.

Great minds think big and send messages of harmony to humanity.
People must come out of ignorance and seek a more blissful life.
Technology offers immense possibilities, though life may become mechanical & dependent.
Sadguru noted that comforts increase, yet happiness does not automatically follow.

Kaku said development is a bundle of histories; change happens within years.
Without our permission, many accumulations alter the course of history.
Today, the world focuses intensely on science, technology, and innovation.
Great work continues in batteries, solar power, wind energy, and storage systems.

When energy becomes cheap, many facilities come easily within human reach.
Travel, libraries, homes, industries, and offices expand greatly for production.
Clean fuel is necessary to undo pollution’s effects on life forms.
Labs in the US, China, and Europe work constantly to reshape humanity’s future.

There are gurus also around the world who gather people & preach sermons.
Teaching discipline is good, but blind mythologies may restrict thinking.
We should not ignore knowledge from history, written or remembered.
Yet it must be checked carefully, as it may favour particular orientations.

Whatever man is today is an accumulation of knowledge & cultural traits.
Value-inputs from many ages layer within us and gradually make us wiser.
These synthesise slowly in the mind, often unnoticed but deeply influential.
We must train our minds well to receive signals and improve life’s course.

I have read Michio Kaku’s book Physics of the Future earlier.
It opened my mind to where modern science & technology are heading.
Listening again yesterday encouraged me to read him more & learn further.
Big minds influence us, yet we must develop our own originality.

We must remain curious, studious, and work-oriented in this changing world.
Continuous learning may help us become better humans and serve society.

 

Pawan Kumar,

Brahmpur (Odisha), 8^th February, 2026, Sunday, 9:41 PM

(From my New Delhi diary, dated 13^th February 2022, Sunday, 9:33 A.M.) 

Reading as Daily Nourishment

 Reading as Daily Nourishment

(A Reflective Note)

These reflections arise from a simple daily habit of reading and observing life. Though memory fades and details disappear with time, experiences & books still shape one’s inner strength quietly. Reading here is not for storing information, but for slow nourishment of thought & character—much like food or exercise for the body. These notes accept forgetting as natural, while trusting the silent growth that continues within.

 

I read one book at a time, sometimes two or three, also together.
When finished, I keep it on the shelf and soon forget the title & author.

My memory is not very strong; daily works scatter attention in many directions.
Everything needs concentrated effort, sticking firmly to the main purpose only.
I read mainly for inner satisfaction; many subjects are unrelated to my profession.
Yet something inside feels amused and alive during the hours of reading.

Reading feels like meditation, sometimes even ecstasy, rarely fully attained.
Many concepts go above the head; several lines remain half understood.
Though I try word by word, concentration often slips and goes haywire.
The author’s full sense escapes, and I quietly move to the next page.

Still nowadays, I finish full books, hoping the essence settles somewhere.
Irony remains—I cannot recall the gist in the normal course later.
Some basic wisdom must be entered slowly and fixed into personality.
Like regular exercise, strengthening muscles silently, maybe a little visible change.

It is like ‘गूंगे का गुड़’, sweetness tasted but never expressed in words.
For fifty years, I ate food daily, yet recall no exact tastes.
Office tasks fill days completely, yet methods and details fade quickly.
Reminiscences dim with time, and richness dissolves, leaving strange ignorance.

I see a film and soon forget the plot, songs, characters, and dialogues.
Important news heard today disappears from memory after a few days.
Fatiguing work pains the body, yet pain itself vanishes strangely later.
Even harsh suffering softens slowly, and life returns quietly to normal.

I meet many people daily—friends, colleagues—yet faces blur gradually.
Names fade away; some vanish as if never part of my life.
My mother is gone; even her memories weaken with passing time.
New engagements overlap older ones, and life keeps moving forward.

 

I attended big sermons once, felt inspired, convinced of their benefits.
Today, no lines remain, nor faces of those wise speakers remembered.
So many interactions happen daily, yet nothing guarantees retention.
Life slips through our hands; we live mostly in the present moment.

Then what is reading, if everything fades with passing time?
Should we stop learning and remain aloof, assuming nothing stays?
No, we still need food, water, shelter, sleep, and exercise daily.
These needs return every day; nourishment must be repeated regularly.

Travel feels similar—journeys taken, places seen, friendships briefly formed.
We step out of routine, stay in hotels, and meet strangers happily.
Markets, streets, tastes, and voices amuse us for some time.
Later details slip away, though faint impressions remain somewhere within.

I earn money from my livelihood, yet it flows away quickly.
None carries wealth finally, yet earning remains necessary for living.
Comforts come only from resources; survival needs cannot be denied.
Even forgotten comforts served a purpose while they were present.

Thus, reading also seems a daily necessity, like food for the mind.
It nourishes silently, preparing me for the hardships of harsh survival.
Like races needing practice, knowledge also needs constant replenishment.
Strength grows slowly inside, though results are rarely visible outwardly.

I must not feel frustrated for forgetting what I once read.
Today’s present will also fade tomorrow, yet it remains necessary today.
Without reading, the mind feels starved, like a body without proper food.
It is nourishment for thought, essential for mental balance.

Books on many topics decorate the shelves of my mind quietly.
They mix with earlier impressions, reshaping personality without furore.
They mould me invisibly, making me somewhat steadier and clearer.
Deep changes occur within, though I barely recognise them consciously.

The good thing is books remain; I can reopen and revisit anytime.
Pages refresh memory; forgotten thoughts return with small effort.
Knowledge rests deep in unconscious layers, retrievable when required.
At least I know the sources and can correct myself again.

Books are like minerals needed daily for balanced intellectual health.
Sitting still, we travel through the minds of many great people.
Places awaken, characters breathe, histories speak directly to us.
A hardbound volume carries condensed life, better than emptiness.

No one remembers all; capacity is limited amidst infinite information.
Yet we must gather what is possible and enrich ourselves gradually.
Books remain ready helpers, always available without complaint.
Through them, we move closer to fuller human completeness.

Good books leave impressions, shaping the interior quietly & steadily.
They prepare us for larger challenges and lift us above average.
What goes in must someday emerge as clearer thought or writing.
So I keep accumulating patiently, trusting slow growth within.

 

Pawan Kumar,

Brahmpur (Odisha), 4th February, 2026, Time 9.19 A.M. 

New Delhi, 4th January 2022, Tuesday, 6:25 A.M.

Learning to Begin

Learning to Begin

This reflection arises from a quiet inner urgency—the difficulty of beginning, and the responsibility felt once thought begins to move. Life here is seen as entrusted rather than accidental, demanding attention rather than momentum. Writing becomes a way to pause, to test intention, and to examine the self before action follows. The questions raised are not meant to resolve neatly, but to remain present & guiding. What is sought is not greatness, but fidelity to thought, conduct, and daily effort. Change is imagined as inward first, gradual, and imperfect. This is not a declaration of certainty, but a moment of conscious becoming. Further, this is not an instruction but a participation.

Choosing a topic for morning writing is the hardest step to proceed.
One idea shapes the mind; the future quietly begins revolving around it.

Starting is the only difficulty, like every venture we undertake.
One must change the mental phase before any movement begins.
It resembles Newton’s first law; we prefer to remain where we are already.
From rest to motion needs energy; many hiccups appear on the way.

With time, smoothing slowly arrives, and our adjustment is to new rhythms.
Friction weakens gradually, and unfamiliar paths feel a bit more acceptable.
What once felt forced begins to appear natural and workable.
Thus, habit forms quietly, shaping direction without loud announcement.

My purpose here is to understand what leads me toward writing.
What remains hidden that makes one sit with pen and diary?
Why does this routine persist, as if destiny expects something further?
What this journey is meant to be, while one still feels quite ordinary?

Some intense inner makeup quietly urges me to begin again.
Whatever little time remains must be carefully utilised.
Life is not cheap enough to be casually squandered away.
What passes through us shapes us, refining the way ahead.

As a person, one feels responsible for the sphere given.
Everyone carries their own task; no one bears another’s guarantee.
Each must take care of oneself within life’s structure.
Where one goes determines the justice done to this life.

I must be faithful to life and learn to tread it carefully.
Being a civil engineer, I am expected to remain civilised.
One should not fritter away dignity nor belittle fellow beings.
Language, gesture, and conduct must remain gentle & respectful.

I was born knowing nothing of past or future journeys.
Awareness came slowly; memories before early childhood remain faint.
Fifty-two years have already passed through this life.
What remains ahead exists, yet its measure stays uncertain.

What should one consider—only the span between birth & death?
Or also what lingers later as memory, name, or deed?
Consciousness departs with death; that truth remains unchanged.
Yet goodwill survives briefly, earned during one’s living years.

Life’s juggernauts feel strange & puzzling, demand careful understanding.
They rise to maximum limits; as humans, we must attempt.
Some meditation must pass through us, refining sense slowly.
Fallibilities examined become tools for gradual self-correction.

I wish to realise life’s essence; its churning seems unavoidable.
What within us feels weak, yet longs quietly to strengthen?
Fears arise, asking not denial but gentle confrontation.
Perhaps courage grows through patience, not conquest alone.

I try to remain humanitarian, keeping people’s welfare in mind.
One hopes the world may become slightly more equal.
Being a safe presence itself becomes a contribution.
Calm, serenity & motivation shape the atmosphere we leave.

I wish to be noble & intelligent, sharing good thoughts humbly.
Not to equal great minds, but to humbly learn from them.
Bana, Shakespeare, Kalidasa, Buddha, Jesus, & Mahavir guide silently.
So do Kabir, Nanak, Ambedkar, Mandela, and Martin Luther King.

I want to clear inner fetters and the cluttered mind.
Leaving vain debates, one seeks better company & direction.
Guided by noble thoughts that shaped humanity earlier,
I wish to raise near ones into good human beings.

I want to dive deep into the ocean hidden within.
One should not hesitate to take unfamiliar or unusual paths.
The heights desired may remain distant and demanding.
Yet the journey itself must enrich us, steadily step by step.

 

Pawan Kumar,

Brahmpur (Odisha), 26^th January, 2026 (Republic Day), Monday, Time 10.46 P.M.

14th September 2018, Friday, 9.02 A.M., Mahendergarh

 

Between Shorelines and Clouds (Notes from a Journey, June 2018)

Between Shorelines and Clouds

(Notes from a Journey, June 2018)

This travelogue is a record of a brief journey that unfolded across diverse landscapes, cities, and skies, while also opening up inner spaces for reflection. It does not aim to guide or instruct, but to observe—how nature, history, infrastructure, science, and human presence quietly converse with a receptive mind.

On June 9^th and 10^th, I visited Daman and Mumbai with my EE Nilabh ji; some of my experiences have already been written about earlier. Here, I want to recall 10th June, the day of returning to Delhi.

On the night of 9^th June, Nilabh and I stayed at Hotel Jajira, Moti Daman. Breakfast was taken at the hotel around 10:40 AM; meanwhile, Steelcase’s Santosh Kumar had also arrived. Earlier in the morning, we took a beach walk. The sea appeared to move steadily toward the shore. By night, it retreats with the tide; by morning, it seems to expand again.

It was an ecstatic morning at the ocean, with heavy clouds covering the sky. In Mumbai, the monsoon had already begun, and Daman is not far from it. The sun kept peeping through the clouds, playing a continuous game of hide-and-seek. I felt quite in heaven; my sense of vastness expanded—something that often happens in the presence of colossi like the sea.

In the roar of the sea, I tried to sing from my heart whatever came to mind:

देखते रहो, समुद्र को तुम, इतना विशाल देखते रहो
समुद्र किनारे बीच पर कल शाम दूर तक पत्थरों को देखते रहो I
कुछ देर तो आत्मसात होऊँ, पर समुद्र की दहाड़ में मेरी आवाज़ गुम हो जाती
मेरे राम, मुझको भी बना दो कुछ तो महान
कर दो मेरे मन को विभोर, मैं तो बहुत अदना सा हूँ तेरी विशालता के समक्ष I

(Keep watching the ocean, witness its vastness endlessly.
Along the shore, watch the stones scattered far and wide.
For a while, I try to merge, but my voice is lost in the ocean’s roar.
O Lord, make me something great too;
Fill my heart with awe, for I am so small before your immensity.)

Lofty thoughts emerged naturally. I dipped my feet in the seawater, picked up snails & shells, admiring their beauty. The stone beach was rugged & difficult to tread; in pockets, clear water collected. I picked some water and drenched my head & body, trying to feel that vastness more fully.

I experienced this vastness within me, too. My parents’ ashes had once met this ocean through the Ganga. My forefathers, too, had merged with this immensity. I felt myself a tiny part of cosmic vastness. I breathed air that had travelled far distances, my hair waving in happiness. I went a little deeper, but the sea retracted & then rushed again toward the shore.

Nilabh came closer. We spoke about the sea, water, snails, rocks, and human littleness. I recorded the live movement of snails in clear water—creatures complete in themselves. Their upper shells were rugged, almost like pieces of stone. Dead shell deposits lay scattered on the rocks, though I could not gauge their ages.

Two young women in their late twenties stood nearby, with a little girl of five or six. The child hesitated near the water, while the elders appreciated the beauty more freely. I guessed one was her mother and the other a maternal aunt. I spoke gently with the little girl, trying to add some warmth to the atmosphere.

I took photographs of the clouds over the sea, some selfies too. Today, when I look at them, I can return to those moments. Mobile cameras are handy tools; they allow us to preserve fleeting experiences. I had taken some snail shells to the hotel, but found one still alive & moving. I returned it to the sea—it felt right. Saving one life is good, though ultimately, all have to perish.

After writing a little in my diary, we had breakfast. I wore a red-blue-white chequered shirt, and we left Hotel Jajira for the next journey and proceeded to Daman Fort. Coconut trees lined the road. The city is developing, populated mainly by Gujaratis and some original inhabitants. Earlier, under Portuguese rule, Daman became part of India in 1961.

Crossing the Daman Ganga bridge, we reached the fort with its thick defensive walls.  The Portuguese had built the fort to defend against Mughal incursions. Nowadays, it houses the office of the Commissioner, Daman Administration, under India’s Union Territory governance.

We then reached the ferry point. Along with Santosh and driver Robin, we took a 15-minute boat ride in a kerosene-powered boat—an ecstatic experience. Baskets hanging in the water were explained as fish traps. The Daman Ganga River separates Moti Daman from Nani Daman; the city lies about 23 km from NH-8.

The merging of river & sea always amazes me. Backwaters intrude far inland before slowly mixing. Sea water is saline, river water fresh—Amitav Ghosh has beautifully described this phenomenon observed in Sundarbans at the confluence of Hooghly & Brahmaputra rivers with the Bay of Bengal in his famous novel ‘The Hungry Tide’.

From there, we travelled roughly 200 km to Mumbai by taxi. Greenery spread across the landscape. The mango season was at its peak. Daman & Silvassa are famous for delicious Alphonso mangoes.  We stopped at roadside stalls on the way, with orchards visible behind, bearing fruit of great value, and tasted & bought some mangoes.

In the way, we stopped at Lonavala Chikki, near Anam Restaurant, where we had eaten the previous day. Around 4:00 PM, we halted at Delhi Darbar Inn, Manor—grand in appearance, elegant in ambience, though the food was average.

Approaching Mumbai, high-rise buildings dominated the skyline. Each visit reveals further development. Roads are narrow due to land constraints; metro lines pass overhead. Numerous overbridges ease congestion. Dharavi’s slum cluster appeared dense with humanity. From afar, the towers looked like stacked matchboxes. Coastal humidity accelerates corrosion; the painting & anti-corrosive coating industry thrives here. Steel reinforcement requires protection, yet maintenance costs remain high.

Entering Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport, the approach itself felt scenic—palm trees, hedges, and a well-maintained median lining the road. Hoardings & nearby hotels like Marriott marked the area clearly. Our driver Robin, a Nepali married to a local Christian woman, had been working with Steelcase’s Bhuttas for years.

The airport interior appeared grand & thoughtfully designed. Large columns widened gracefully toward the ceiling, carrying intricate artwork. The sense of investment & care was visible everywhere—floors, railings, lighting, and spatial planning.

We descended via escalators to a lower level, where greenery lined the sides. Small potted plants placed in structured stands resembled a green wall. Similar attempts at integrating greenery can be seen in Delhi as well, especially near the Yamuna bridge at Sarai Kale Khan.

On the lower floor, different ceiling patterns appeared—petal-like forms with lights embedded between them. A gallery of antique wooden, stone, and metal doors stood on display, along with artifacts & artworks. Standing there, I felt minuscule before the human genius that had imagined & built such spaces, filled with quiet amusement & gratitude.

We waited to board Air India 660, Airbus A320, seat 16B, Gate 42B, Terminal T2. The flight, originally at 6:00 PM, departed at 7:00 PM. As we lifted, I saw vast slum clusters below—perhaps Dharavi—each life deserving dignity.

Above the clouds, the sun shone pale yellow. To the west, it glowed; to the east, darkness gathered. Colours shifted—pale, dark, yellow, white. From this height, the concept of time felt relative. Moving westward delays sunset; moving east hastens it—relative motion at play, as described by Stephen Hawking in The Grand Design. The sun appears to move, though it is Earth that rotates.

We flew at about 9–10 km above Earth. Below, clouds resembled a sea; above, sunlight streamed through the window. Gradually, the sun disappeared from view. At around 8:30 PM, only a yellow streak remained on the horizon. Lightning flickered within clouds—caused by electrical charge separation—illuminating the sky.

Dinner was served, though I ate little. We landed in Delhi around 9:00 PM. Nilabh dropped me at Dwarka. I shared the experience with family, feeling contentment. 

Journeys are great teachers; we must be good students to learn from them. Journeys are great teachers; we need patience to learn what they offer.

 

Pawan Kumar,

Brahmpur (Odisha), 21st January, 2026, Tuesday, Time 9.29 A.M.

(From my Diary, dated 22 & 24 July 2018, Sunday & Tuesday) 

On Becoming a Writer

 On Becoming a Writer

This diary entry captures a writer at the threshold—questioning discipline, originality, purpose, and endurance. It does not offer conclusions, only an honest account of early resolve. The piece stands as a record of process, where ambition meets awareness and patience begins.

 

What is this writing business? People write 10 hours daily without holidays.
From where do they bring material, as writing is not an easy game?

If it is copy and paste, then compiling words feels easy.
But that is not yours; you roam elsewhere, losing convictions.
Some produced tremendous works within small human lifespans.
How did they do it, how reach the top coterie?

Intent alone is insufficient to lift pen and diary daily.
Unless inner forces push gently, nothing original comes out.
Professional writers are not driven only by excitement.
Writing becomes a livelihood; otherwise, what else sustains them?

Casual writing happens intermittently, without any serious purpose.
No big theme exists; whatever comes gets written.
Works remain small; spurts never build lasting networks.
Yet writing appeared early in antiquity, quietly surviving centuries.

See newspapers, magazines, and journalists of every kind.
They are trained, disciplined, words treated with sanctity.
Data compiled, interpreted, and offered to a wider readership.
Over time, such effort becomes personal intellectual assets.

Some authors publish yearly, chasing bestsellers & recognition.
Some sell millions, and piracy is followed by free eaters.
Ideas spread, readers get attracted, and influence grows.
But whether they’re thinkers or sellers remains another question.

What is the priority, becoming visible or becoming thoughtful?
Unless you present yourself, how will people know you?
Do you want publication or development into a thinker?
Life returns what you seek; firm your mind early.

Hard work cannot be skipped while expecting benefits.
Life remains input-output; churn more, more cream appears.
Milk has limits, but the mind holds endless possibilities.
The human mind grows beyond consumption & visible ends.

Yet even an empty mind requires nourishment and patience.
Life satiates only after conscious internal processing.
Quality depends on how seconds and minutes are lived.
Drudgery fades when time is spent honestly with oneself.

Some inner urge persuades reaching ecstasy through writing.
How to trim body and soul amid distractions?
Keep Colossus in mind, and store ideas quietly.
Results demand discipline, not miraculous supercomputer skills.

How much is my world, home, office, or digital friends?
Colleagues, relatives, family, and circles overlap daily.
Does my life benefit others meaningfully or superficially?
Do I show form outside, lacking inner honesty?

How deeply do I observe the world around me?
Is my thinking original or a borrowed copy-paste?
Who takes my thoughts seriously, and how far do they travel?
Will even one idea travel like Buddha’s teachings?

If you want to write, why not commit professionally?
Create office-like discipline, write and edit as work.
Plan themes, publish slowly, print books patiently.
Approach mentors, ask how writers truly grow.

Motivate readers gently, let them discover your work.
Hard work matters more than goodness or empathy.
Be serious in life’s games and not impulsive.
Design goals, work daily, accept uneven outcomes.

Be an achiever, not just a thinker waiting endlessly.
Days pass, nights pass, conditions often remain unchanged.
World values visible transformation, not internal intention.
Performance earns respect; everything fades quietly.

Daily writing builds platforms; don’t settle easily.
Toil reshapes self; comfort weakens discipline.
Untuned minds produce noise, not a meaningful signal.
Aim larger; consciousness guides all creative business.

Yet some days writing teaches patience, not brilliance.
Some days nothing appears, but effort still counts.
Becoming takes longer than ambition comfortably allows.
Practice remains faithful when praise disappears.

Use spare time cautiously for higher purposes.
Present writing is a seed, develop it patiently.
Spread the word, you write something thoughtful, unusual.
Interaction grows; mind and personality expand.

Is it selfishness, a challenge, or a higher purpose calling?
Great people die, too, yet traces remain.
Names fade, but thoughts survive discussion.
Legacy lives quietly through written memory.

Originality appears when the self speaks effortlessly.
Not wearing others’ shoes, writing flows naturally.
Consistency builds the beginnings of authentic work.
Documentation may turn fragments into remembered writings.

Why think one or two hours suffice for writing?
Absorption defines success in every demanding field.
Incessant effort without fatigue creates mastery.
Practice breeds proficiency; effort remains unavoidable.

The world notices unusual contributors who give generously.
The goal is not selling oneself, but enriching others.
How to elevate minds, create shared trance?
Writer & reader rise together through substance.

Who is my audience, and how do I grow them?
Send writing to retired minds, thoughtful judges.
Let them critique freely, guide improvement.
Life fulfils itself through shared contribution.

Let the world know one PK is sincerely trying.
Not idle, but consciously engaged each moment.
Success follows seriousness, not loud ambition.
Writing becomes life, not a weekend hobby.

When you are a writer, you see writing everywhere.
Loss and profit appear daily; don’t fear setbacks.
Check priorities daily, adjust direction honestly.
Life becomes unusual when inner truth guides actions.

Make steps to reach readers thoughtfully.
Fulfilment follows self-enrichment naturally.
Publish patiently, approach the right people steadily.
Build spaces where readers gather meaningfully.

Notify readers regularly, but care for them daily.
Readers are assets; relationships sustain writing journeys.

 

This feels like a beginning, not any arrival point.
The road ahead is long & demanding daily presence.
I may falter, repeat, and question myself often.
This will take time, effort & patience—and I am willing.

Still, I choose the discipline of continuing.

 

Pawan Kumar,

Brahmpur (Odisha), 17^th January, 2026, Saturday, Time 11.11 A.M.

(From My Diary, dated 25 March, 2016, Friday, 8:25 A.M.)