THE QUIET LABOUR OF LEARNING

A reflective meditation on books, creativity, and the quiet human efforts that shape our lives. Through observations of reading habits, craftsmanship, and daily wonders, this piece explores how knowledge grows slowly—through patient toil, gentle curiosity, and attentive seeing.

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Last night I felt fatigued, and I slept early around ten o’clock.
Usually, I sleep near midnight, after reading quietly on the computer.

These nights follow a rhythm—office, dinner, then drifting into soft reading.
My time moves through vivid topics, new yet quietly widening my mind.
I try to know new realities, watching how people move through shifting worlds.
Each new thing opens horizons, lifting a thin curtain from understanding.

I visit sites of great books—fiction and non-fiction by renowned authors.
How many have I read? Yet their excerpts always appeal deeply within.
Whatever touches my mind, I download and keep in my collection.
The Net holds countless books, and my Books folder grows richer steadily.

Not all downloaded books get read; reading demands its own patient rhythm.
Sometimes I open one briefly, letting a few pages settle my thoughts.
Some I print, since hard copies bring steadier, deeper understanding.
But my shelves are full, struggling to hold new printed books.

My cupboards have shelves—upper parts for display, lower for storing files.
Books rest behind books, forgotten after long intervals of quiet neglect.
Whatever lies in sight becomes the next companion for reading.
I choose randomly, reading a little depending on the passing hour.

I read many books fully; others remain half-read yet partly understood.
Their main contents stay with me, even if reading pauses midway.
When time allows, I revisit them for a clearer & deeper understanding.
Non-fiction rarely needs continuity; it can be resumed without difficulty.

Fiction needs a steady flow; beginning midway weakens its world & rhythm.
It must start at the beginning to regain its pulse and plot.
Many fiction books lie half-read, uncertain whether I will finish them.
Great books require time, and both mind and body must agree.

Books are wonderful tools, opening silent worlds inside us gently.
We meet authors directly, as if their thoughts whisper into ours.
Sometimes we agree; sometimes their ideas challenge our inner beliefs.
But we keep what resonates, shaping our personality quietly within.

Knowledge spreads everywhere, maybe our time & capacity are limited.
Creators are like us, but few dare pursue ideas with toil.
Creation & ingenuity need courage, refined through years of practice.
Records remain as an inheritance, carried across generations silently.

Idols, carvings, buildings, artworks, potteries—all shaped with devotion.
Hands & minds move with dexterity when forming something meaningful.
Their motions may look common, yet practice makes them miraculous.
Behind each object lies honest effort, rarely noticed by passing eyes.

Every person is unique, carrying original traits shaped naturally within.
He generates new thoughts and performs wonders during daily living.
We overlook such ingenuity, thinking life is only livelihood & routine.
Yet daily life hides amazements, if we pause and observe gently.

I wished to see colours, tools, cushions, furniture, crafted by human hands.
Individual or collective, every creation becomes a quiet part of the world.
Each year, countless idols of Ganesha & Durga are shaped and immersed.
Many vanish in waters; only a few stay preserved in homes and temples.

See the weaver bird’s nest, the sparrow’s song, the spider’s fragile web.
Amazements surround us; we only need regard and a softened gaze.
Creativity breathes through daily living, whether we notice it or not.
We should honour others’ creations and let them enrich our thoughts.

Writing, too, is creation—quietly shaping reflections into lasting form.
There are thousands of books; readers choose according to time and taste.
Many turn ordinary, overshadowed by better and deeper material.
Yet every creator is serious, giving their best to their work.

Everyone has different levels of skill, yet diversity deserves respect.
Every person tries to create something new and marvellous in his way.
Many works look ordinary, but behind them lie sincere human toil.
With time, all things fade, slipping quietly into forgotten corners.

Our ideas, books, and creations also drift into the past someday.
Yet even small recognition brings solace, honouring the effort once offered.
New people arrive with new things; older ones make space for fresh work.
But they, too, were like us, doing the same sincere human endeavour.
Some ideas endure long, carrying the strength of rare, lasting brilliance.

 

 

Pawan Kumar,

24th November, 2025, Monday, 3:30 PM 

(From my Jaipur Diary 9 September 2016, Friday, 6:49 A.M.)

 

 

Shelters Across Time

A quiet morning in a modest hotel room opens into a wider meditation on the history of human rest—from ancient Sarais and village inns to today’s hospitality structures. This piece reflects on how shelters, in every age, reveal civilisation’s growth, human ingenuity, and our universal need for safety, comfort, and thoughtful design.

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Morning sunlight filters softly through the north-facing window’s frosted glass.
From the bed, one open shutter reveals a peaceful, narrowing slit of sky.

The room is small—about nine feet square—with an attached toilet-bath neatly inside.
A cushioned double bed, ceiling-high cupboard, false ceiling, and split AC make it cosy.
Lights, a fan, two side tables, two chairs, and a mirror complete the compact space.
Its flush door opens quietly into a narrow corridor of this likely G+4 building.

This hotel stands on Railway Road or General Hospital Road in Mahendergarh town.
Below, the ground floor hosts a bank, an ATM, and a first-floor restaurant.
Upper floors contain narrow rooms leading gradually toward nearby residential areas.
Mahendergarh is quiet, filled mostly with two–three storied, low-rise family homes.

D.N. Katewa, EE of CU Rajasthan, stayed here during several official visits earlier.
M.L. Jain, AE, mentioned staying in this same Room 206 a few weeks ago.
The interiors are tiled up to the ceiling—narrow, yet arranged with elegant precision.
Design within tight limits reflects the thoughtful care of capable designers.

Sitting in this small room makes me think about shelters across time.
Architects and designers create marvels when space is limited, but vision remains clear.
Good utilisation brings comfort, and aesthetic interiors naturally satisfy travelling guests.
Hotels offer richer specifications, matching conveniences with visitors’ paying capacities.

Every hotel carries its own identity through façade, layout, and interior movement.
Entrances, receptions, galleries, and toilets appear grand to encourage repeat stays.
Courteous staff and timely service shape how warmly travellers recall the place.
Food and cuisine remain central, since many step out mainly seeking taste.

Thinking of this room takes my mind to older resting places of India.
Earlier, such stops were called taverns or Sarai, essential during long journeys.
Travellers found rest, safety for belongings, and relief after exhausting travel.
They paid for boarding, meals, and small recreations arranged thoughtfully by innkeepers.

The “Bhatiyari”—the woman managing such inns—remains alive in old folklore.
Rest houses became famous for countless reasons, remembered in stories and tales.
Dharamshalas and Piyaus were built by kings or Seths to help weary travellers.
Some offered free shelter, sometimes giving meals along with resting places.

Ashoka planted trees and dug wells along major routes for public comfort.
Kings’ men guarded the roads so travellers could move safely through regions.
Journeys were mostly on foot, by animals, or by slow-moving wooden chariots.
Even royalty travelled with difficulty compared to today’s swift convenience.

Ancient paths were kutcha, passing through thick jungles where fields yet awaited clearing.
Agriculture was limited, as cutting dense forests demanded immense effort.
Wild animals and dacoits made night travel unsafe, so early halts were planned.
Kings travelled with troops, stopping at secure and suitable places for rest.

Deep-jungle taverns were rare; most stood near villages where help was available.
Food, water, and supplies could be quickly reached from nearby settlements and helpers.
Travellers rested, soothed their bodies, and sometimes obtained medicines if needed.
Distances were long, and reliable water or food remained uncertain always.

With a sparse population, travellers often lost direction along unfamiliar jungle routes.
There were no signboards, and rough paths turned dangerous and confusing easily.
Even slight delays could mislead travellers completely into unknown areas.
Many suffered illness, injuries, or attacks—long journeys demanded courage.

Civilisation grew slowly, and knowing this deepens respect for those early movements.
Strong communities cleared forests, opening land for early agricultural development.
Houses were modest, though landlords lived comfortably in nature-rich surroundings.
Superstitions prevailed, yet human interaction continued among scattered settlements.

Such resting stations across ages helped shape civilisation’s expanding pattern.
Today, with increased movement, these facilities grow even more essential.
Roadsides now hold restaurants, motels, and hotels in various sizes and forms.
Each tries to meet customer needs, providing clean and reliable accommodation.

I have visited many such facilities, though coming from a modest background.
For work or necessity, I have stayed in Delhi and several other places.
CPWD has created guest houses in many Indian cities for government visitors.
They include rooms, dining areas, and courtyards for departmental travellers.

The government builds Holiday Homes for officials travelling officially or casually.
Private accommodation remains costly and beyond reach for average families.
Publicised facilities help travellers plan journeys confidently and economically.
Major cities, historical towns, and picnic places host more of these options.

Departments maintain guest houses for their visiting officers requiring a short stay.
Affordability, easy approach, and time-saving remain their primary objectives.
Staying with colleagues brings a warm “we-feeling” and natural comfort.
Inter-department interactions occur, but among our own, we feel more at home.

Meanwhile, the hospitality sector produces many hotel management graduates yearly.
Diploma and degree holders join hotels as chefs, managers, or service staff.
Room service, housekeeping, and cleaning form essential layers of functioning.
Water, electricity, lifts, and sanitation ensure smooth building operations daily.

Hotels receive 5-star, 4-star, or 3-star grades based on the conveniences provided.
Even small hotels maintain modest standards to attract returning customers.
Roadside dhabas serve hearty, simple meals to travellers seeking economy.
Footpath vendors also offer food, used by people according to their means.

Sometimes I feel drawn to understanding such subjects more deeply and contextually.
Every facility carries unique features, and knowing them widens my inner horizons.
As a civil engineer building houses, offices, and various structures, I observe.
Good concepts must be adopted wherever useful; thoughtful seeing opens new fields.

 

Pawan Kumar,

19th November, 2025, Wednesday, 9.31 A.M., Brahmpur (Odisha) 

15 October 2016, Saturday, 7:17 AM, Sakshi Hotel, Room No. 206, Mahendergarh (Haryana)

 

About the Writer

The writer is a reflective observer of everyday life, deeply attentive to history, human effort, and the quiet workings of civilisation. His writing blends clarity with depth, connecting present experiences to larger cultural and historical patterns. With a civil engineer’s eye and a humanist’s heart, he explores how ordinary spaces reveal the stories, journeys, and toils that shape our world.

THE BROTHERHOOD WE FORGOT

 

A contemplative reflection on human conflict, inequality, suffering, and the forgotten moral duties that bind us. The piece meditates on justice, compassion, and universal brotherhood—calling for a more awakened, equitable, and humane world where conscience and shared responsibility guide our collective future.

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Reflection & Expression

What to write when so much stirs within, yet the heart feels uneasy?
There are innumerable nuances, but the pen alone chooses the lines.

People take up many subjects, and richness grows from such vividness.
Each shapes his thoughts in his own manner, and new colours rise everywhere.
Over time, one develops a style, though one may wander through many themes.
What he finally chooses when he lifts the pen becomes his moment of truth.

Many issues burn in the world, and people hasten to place their views.
They get involved sentimentally, as though the events were their very own.
They take sides according to relation, though some still strive to be just.
Man’s vision should rest on natural justice, with empathy for all humankind.

Unrest flows through the world, though its source often remains unseen.
As children, we blamed our elders, yet now we step into the same trap.
The rigidities we believed enlightenment would dissolve still cling to us;
We merely replace old ones with new, without transforming our minds.

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Human Conflict & Suffering

Violence surrounds us as before, even from our younger days.
We thought we would soften the world, yet see how little we have done.
Man gains no wisdom despite daily losses and self-inflicted wounds;
We see no benefit—only death, penury, and lives shattered to fragments.

People die in bomb blasts, gunfire, and senseless cycles of revenge;
Innocents fall to wrath unleashed by the perpetrators of crime.
Children lose parental care, and destitutes fill the waiting roads;
They hardly see their childhood, through no fault but simple birth.

Who spreads such evil designs across the world, and to what end?
Why do noble thoughts not rise to serve humanity with sincerity?
Is courage merely resistance to wrong, or something deeper within?
Justice must be sought by all, though justice never demands killing.

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Inequality, Wealth & Responsibility

Man is often selfish—absorbed in riches, unseeing, sharing little;
Have-nots clamour around him, yet he offers them no justice.
He thinks his wealth was earned solely through his own labour & strength.
He withholds fair wages, leaving others hungry and unseen.

The hunger and depression of the poor keep humanity in dread.
The rich have left little for the rest, making their clamour natural.
As personal wealth expands, so does the urge to gather by any means.
“Let me be mighty over others’ weakness”—such thinking worsens the world.

Though man is social and depends on others for survival,
Profit often stands before compassion in his hierarchy of thought.
More effort, more pain—while the lazy should suffer, they claim;
Yet the masses labour endlessly, and only a few enjoy the fruit.

A little education or a profitable profession becomes a license to encroach.
We learn tactics to rise, even if others must silently bear the cost.
If wealth were shared more wisely, society would rest on level ground.
Hatred would dim, and hope remain alive in every heart.

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Structures, Systems & Human Restlessness

Man builds systems for survival, or cunning ones shape them for gain;
Rules drift toward the few, leaving the many outside the circle.
Simple societies face fewer troubles and show natural equity.
Complex establishments deepen differences—the root of unrest.

Even with respectable wealth, man seldom finds inner peace;
He strives with relentless hunger to gather riches in all forms.
He seldom counts the cost in lives, in dignity, in withheld wages;
Nor sees how greed deepens the suffering of the poor.

We rarely see how many fall behind in this pursuit of gain.
Nor the environmental wounds we impose upon the world.
This does not mean we must remain docile or abandon effort;
The essence is helping as many as we can—making them partners in progress.

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Education, Unity & Shared Humanity

Universal quality education must carry enlightened thought in minds.
Seeing all as brethren, with no real difference among human beings.
Cultural variations in food, dress or living should not divide us;
We are one in essence, though conflict rises for needless reasons.

When will the world accept that all deserve a respectable living?
The Earth’s resources belong to all; marginal life cannot endure.
The world has shrunk into a village, resenting extreme wealth;
No one can suppress others’ expectations forever—one must yield.

Now connected, people see others’ success and aspire to the same.
Religious sermons cannot satisfy—feeding the belly comes first.
People seek equal footing, though it may not always be possible.
Progress and dignity are rights, and repression cannot last.

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Collective Wisdom & a New Social Order

Where is the world heading amidst so much churning in public life?
Who will remind us that we are one, beyond the reach of selfishness?
It is not to feed laziness, but to uplift human understanding;
Some may remain weak, yet we must raise the level of humanity.

The enlightened should act more responsibly toward others.
Rulers should be philosophers, anchored in deeper wisdom.
Equitable distribution of resources remains the foundation.
Without it, no society discovers lasting peace.

How can we strive so that love grows among human beings?
Why must nations and races burn with jealousy each day?
Many theories arise, but which threads truly guide us?
Collective wisdom must lead, and progress must be shared.

What social order should we build, and who shall shape it?
How can we reduce suffering and restore childhood to the young?
When smiles return to all, respect rises for the common person.
When differences fade, a new morning’s light appears.

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Service, Duty & Universal Brotherhood

Which side shall I choose to help equanimity grow in the world?
I have done nothing significant so far that earns recognition.
Why seek publicity? Let work be silent, even if small;
If people gather for a purpose, some good will surely arise.

My assets are not mine—they are capital held in trust for humanity;
I am only a custodian for a time and must use them with care.
I must raise my children well, yet duties extend beyond the home;
Give some space to humanity—you have emerged from it.

Share positive thoughts daily; awaken souls toward enlightenment;
Let all feel concern for every brother on Earth.
Let my wholeness serve the whole in whatever measure it can;
Everything here is taken and given—the account remains clear.

Let my consciousness merge with the vast wholeness of the cosmos;
Let each atom of me align with the pulse of totality.
Let me embrace all beings with full-hearted humanity;
Every life deserves its place—we must not cut it to our size.

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Closing Note

Only universal brotherhood will slowly quieten the world’s strife;
Those who have must bear greater responsibility for the common good.
Let good literature reach all, awakening a deeper consciousness;
Life grows bright only when we can smile with everyone.

“Live and let live” must guide us in spirit, heart, and deed;
Let fresh air move through our souls, and let respect rise from all.

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Pawan Kumar,

14^th November, 2025, Brahmpur, Odisha Time 1:38 A.M. (Midnight)

(From my New Delhi Diary dated 23 July 2016, Saturday, 6:41 PM)

From Seed to Bloom

Written on a quiet April morning in New Delhi, this meditation explores how ordinary moments become the fabric of inner growth. Through reflections on time, change, and consciousness, it traces life’s passage — the human journey from seed to bloom.

From Seed to Bloom reflects an inward journey through time & transformation — a meditation on how ordinary days shape extraordinary growth. It speaks of quiet perseverance, inner awakening, and the art of conscious living. Through reflection & renewal, life ripens — as all seeds must — into its own bloom.

 

Our own life must enter our words, or they remain hollow echoes.
For the days we live are the pages we write — let each be luminous.

Days melt quietly into nights; each dawn shortens the unturned leaf.
We pass through unseen seasons, changing without consent or memory.
Life beats softly, inscribing a book upon the heart,
Yet we forget its chapters, clinging always to the new moment.

What are these subtle threads that bind the story of existence?
How watchfully do we trace them as they slip through our grasp?
In the end, we are shaped by the pattern of our thought —
Self-judgment is the sculptor, self-understanding the key.

But the world sees only surfaces — a face, a motion, a name.
It frames its judgments in haste, mistaking reflection for truth.
Our depths lie unguessed, vast and silent,
While eyes outside weave stereotypes to fill their ignorance.

Can you feel the shifting tides within, from childhood to grey age?
From innocence to ardour, from striving to stillness?
Each day alters both flesh and thought, unseen, unmarked,
As one self dissolves and another quietly takes its place.

Why does life unfold thus — can transformation ever be our choice?
We live in circles of habit, our revolutions muffled by comfort.
The same food, faces, and ideas imprison us in gentle walls;
Change whispers softly, but we seldom answer.

Yet nature, in her wisdom, sometimes breaks the wall.
She thrusts us into a storm, and the calm life trembles.
New souls & strange ideas crowd the path, confusion becomes a guide,
And through bewilderment, new understanding blooms.

An easy life, untested, grows dull with its own ease.
The unchallenged spirit forgets its wings and crawls content.
But excellence is born only in fire — the uncommon effort,
And the courage to stand alone when others doubt.

True change begins within; the world keeps its noise outside.
It guards its grudges and shuns too much awakening.
The only field worth tilling is the soil of one’s own heart;
External change fades — the inner alone endures.

Why, then, do we remain bound to the ordinary?
Each dawn offers renewal, yet we seldom grasp it.
Improvement comes to those who labour daily & without witness;
Transformation is patient and demands constancy more than glory.

What new realms await us when we cross the narrow fence?
When the mind unites with purpose and the will steadies its aim?
Life itself is the altar, sacred and complete;
The higher the offering, the deeper the reward.

Those who explore the body & mind discover hidden continents.
Each experience draws a new line upon the mind’s vast canvas.
Though confusion swirls, the wise grow stronger through them 
For life’s vision is constant: from seed to full blossom.

Who defines the worth of a soul or the flaw of a life?
Each vision is private — no eye can see for another.
We quote the words of others and forget our own pulse.
Be creators for our own sake, and walk barefoot on truth?

What is originality, if not courage born from silence?
How much faith is needed to write one’s honest thought?
The sea of being is immense; few jewels lie beneath 
And only by deep churning does the essence rise.

How do some gather powers & turn weakness to wonder?
They wrestle the self, and victory shapes their grace.
The same limbs & the breath, yet the deeds outshine the Sun
Those who transcend themselves become the light for others.

What is this mastery of force, this secret concentration?
Each excels in their way, yet the soil of fairness matters.
Where equality breathes, the spirit grows unshackled,
And effort blossoms freely, without envy or restraint.

Man must pass through struggle to awaken the saint within.
Greatness ripens in the heat of trial, like gold in fire.
Yet many suffer voiceless, chained by the world’s design,
And not all who strive are seen, let alone set free.

Still, intent must remain pure, with freedom as inward.
The whole world lies open to the fearless soul.
Let the self proclaim its own authority, as it is sacred,
The one companion that never parts from life.

How shall I imitate others when I am a universe entire?
Yes, flawed, yes, unfinished, but full of promise untold.
When the spark of originality burns awake,
Life itself glows beyond its fetters.

Bear no ill to others, build instead a broader ground.
Man’s purpose is not doom, but creation and ascent.
Let each be the architect of his own unfolding,
For the earth holds abundance enough for all.

Live consciously, measure the day not by its hours but its depth.
Let each breath enrich, not exhaust, your being.
Keep the mind luminous and calm; its health is life’s root.
And wander far from the vastness alone, the precious arises.

 

Pawan Kumar,

Brahmpur (Odisha), 8^th November, 2025, Saturday, Time 1:27 A.M. (Midnight)

(From my New Delhi Diary, 2 April 2016, Saturday, 8:50 A.M.)