The Accumulated Works of A Bored Genius

I went to the place, Where land meets cloud, And stood there with my face, Enveloped in that shroud. My ears too cold, My beard too moist, Not even a mold, Could survive this hoist. But got here I did, To look down at my home, The way the trees hid, Behind the marquee of foam. I saw a peak above my spot, And thought of her age, The mountains paused not, Their all-pervading gaze. She was here before we came, She'll be here after we're gone, My visit to her bosom, Holds awe only with this one. I sat down to behold, As far as my eyes let me, My lids grew heavy with cold, But I knew what it meant to be.

Amidst the dying flames of a fire, Sat three men discussing the weather, A farmer, a taxi driver and a stoner. One bemoaned dry lands, praying for rain, One wiped the frost off his mane, One twiddled absently with his cane. Then came a flash of lightning, With it fell the heavens freezing, And seeing this the flame died crackling. The farmer danced joyously, The driver groaned angrily, And the stoner hid his pipe hurriedly.

I have a confession to make. I threw, nay dumped, the styrofoam plate that I had prasadam from last night on the temple grounds. No dustbin, no waste disposal. I contributed to land pollution. But I had no choice. And this is why. I started the weekend with elaborate plans, but no expectations. We (Shubham and I) had planned to meet up with another friend, Ann, who was travelling down from Ramnagar to meet us, at Almora, and travel to a traditional Kumaoni ceremony called "Jaagar" that night. After getting to Almora, which is much closer to us than it is for her, and locating the place where she'd be alighting at after roaming the bazaar for nearly 1.5 hours, we finally met up post-noon. A quick lunch and a ₹200 fine for pulling my mask down during a phone call later, we headed to the most serene temple I've been to in the recent past - the Kasar Devi. In my altered state, I hiked up the hill atop which the temple rests, not expecting anything at all but enjoying the

 This is a story of why I call myself a nomad. And it starts in 2016 when I finished college and was about to leave for Zürich to start my postgrad course. A very close friend of mine met up with me a few weeks before my departure and told me he was going to spend the next year of his life on his bike exploring India. I found it amazing and something I was not capable of. So I left and finished 2 years of partying, travelling, meeting different people, learning languages and most of all - living life - the same things my friend did back home in India. A few days before my departure from Switzerland, the department chair at UZH where I did my thesis asked me what I was going to do and where I would go. I told him I was going back home but that I had no idea what I was going to do there. "Wherever life takes me," is what I told him. He laughed and said, "You're choosing the nomad's life I see". Now of course, I oversimplified an entire luncheon's worth of

"I remember those days. We used to go to the park nearby and feed the birds while people were strolling or chatting at benches and eating at the roadside stalls," said thatha, re-tying his lungi as he stared out at the empty skies. He had gotten into one of his reminiscent moods again. I guess age does that - pining for a past that was supposedly better and happier. "Kids these days don't even know what a sparrow is. It's very unfortunate." "Yes thatha sparrows were awesome we all miss those birds," I said sardonically as I shrugged and walked away, leaving his coffee at the foot of his chair. I'd heard this story too many times and my friends were waiting for me to start another game of Overwatch. I could hear thatha get into another one of his coughing fits as I shut my bedroom door and put my headphones on. He'd had a bad cold and fever for a few days now. Some people from the corporation came and did some tests. He didn't test po

Who or what is an individual? Am I a sum of my parts or are we jigsaw puzzle pieces of a larger whole? As a species we have often battled between individualistic and communal ways of life - which is better? Or rather, which is more suitable? Are individual needs more important or must importance be accorded to the larger scheme of things, of which we are all a part? This can mean different things in different contexts and despite the inclination towards the individualistic school of thought for many of us, the current pandemic purportedly caused by the novel (thus far) coronavirus COVID-19 has got me to thinking that we are prone to switching between the two, picking and choosing when to place the interests of what we consider "ours" over the rest, or vice versa. The question of self has bothered humans for as long as sentience has been a thing. The "I" of it being distinct from the externalities, "us vs. them", this is mine, that is yours. But we h