entry 30!

What is a dream? And what does it really mean to achieve one? We all have dreams, but have you ever wondered what it’s like to finally live inside the dream you’ve worked so hard for? Let me share my experience because right now, I’m living in that dream—and it’s not what I expected.

I can still picture myself sitting in my room in Kolkata, imagining what my future would look like. I put everything I had into reaching that dream. I stayed focused, I pushed myself, and I never let go of the idea that one day, I’d make it. And now, here I am, living the life I used to daydream about. It feels surreal, like a dream come true, but not exactly the way I imagined.

Is it perfect? Not at all. But that’s okay because nothing in life is perfect. I’ve made it to the place I worked so hard to reach. I’ve accomplished so much of what I once dreamed about. But here’s the thing—when I was dreaming of this life, I never thought about what would come after. Now that I’ve achieved almost everything I wanted, I find myself wondering, “What’s next?”

Back then, I had a mission, a clear goal. I was always pushing toward that vision. But now that I’m here, I realize I need a new dream. And you know what? I’m struggling to find it. It’s strange, but I feel like I’ve lost the ability to daydream. I used to be so full of ideas, so full of hope, but now I’m so focused on being practical, on “real life,” that I can’t see the next dream clearly. Maybe you’ve felt this way too. If you have, I’d love to hear your story. Sometimes, when you achieve a big dream, it leaves you feeling a bit lost, like, “What do I do now?” I think that’s why we all need to keep dreaming, even after we reach our goals.

I know I’ll find my way again. I’ll find that spark. But right now, I’m taking time to reflect, to rest, and to truly enjoy the “honey” of the success I once craved. Life has made me tough, and that’s a good thing. But I’ve also realized that without a new dream or mission, life can start to feel a little empty. So here’s my message: Keep dreaming. Don’t let go of your dreams, even after you’ve reached them. Write down your goals, save your ideas, and never stop imagining what’s possible. Dreams give life meaning. Without them, you’ll feel like something’s missing.

Whatever dreaming of right now, keep pushing for it. Don’t give up. The journey may be hard, but once you get there, the peace and satisfaction you’ll feel will be worth it. And remember, achieving your dream isn’t the end of the road. There’s always more to dream about, more to strive for. Now that I’ve tasted the honey of one dream, I know it’s time to find a new one.

So dream big, hold onto your vision, and let the process unfold. Life is about constantly evolving, finding new dreams, and creating the future you want. Don’t quit. You’ve got this.

So peace✌🏻

entry 29!

The more I live, the more I understand—none of us are truly easy to be with. We each carry within us an entire world, filled with unspoken struggles, silent anxieties, past traumas, and lingering fears. We are all carrying something. And the journey to becoming who we are? It’s never straightforward. It’s tangled, it’s messy. It’s human.

We often talk about finding “the one,” but it’s never about meeting someone without baggage—because that person simply doesn’t exist. The truth is, real love, real friendship, real connection isn’t about searching for someone who has no scars. It’s about finding someone who is willing to sit beside you as you unpack yours. It’s about two people who choose each other, flaws and all, day after day. To love someone deeply is to create a space where both of you can exist as you are—unapologetically human. It’s about making room for each other's messiness, vulnerabilities, and imperfections without judgment. It's understanding that the beauty of being human lies not in perfection, but in the cracks and crevices, the spaces where light seeps through.

We are all works in progress. We are all, at times, difficult to be with, and that’s okay. We aren't bound together by polished surfaces, but by the raw, imperfect reality of who we are underneath. We connect in our struggles, in our shared vulnerabilities, in the quiet places where we allow ourselves to be seen as we truly are.

The cracks in our timescape don’t make us weaker—they make us real. And in that realness, true connection begins. Sometimes, it’s in those very moments of imperfection, in the raw honesty of simply being, that we find the deepest love, the most profound friendship. So pause. Breathe. Know that being human means being beautifully imperfect. And it’s in that shared imperfection where we find the connections that truly matter. At least I think so…!! Peace✌🏻

entry 28!

Recently, I’ve been struck by a thought that feels both profound and unsettling: what if everything I’ve done, am doing, or will ever do is already done? Like a script that’s been written for me long before I even realized it. It’s as though I’m living in a world where every choice, every action, is predetermined, and I’m just following along unknowingly.

I’ve heard whispers of this idea before, back in my hometown. You know, those old sayings passed down by elders—"everything is written"—as if our lives are set in stone. But this time, the thought hit me differently. It wasn’t just something I remembered or heard in passing; it was something I “felt”. Like really felt. I found myself questioning whether anything I’m doing is truly mine. It’s as if everything I “want” to do, or “have” to do, is already decided, and I’m merely going through the motions. The strangest part? There are things I try to force or manipulate—those moments where I think, "I’ll make this happen," but despite my efforts, they don’t occur until they’re supposed to. It feels like some events are stuck on their own timeline, and no matter how much I push, they only happen when the time is right. As if they were always meant to happen, but not before their appointed moment. This feeling, this knowing, connects me back to those words from my childhood: "everything is written."

It’s funny, isn’t it? I can’t bring myself to fully believe in this idea of fate or destiny, yet I also can’t completely dismiss it. It lingers in the background, nudging at me, asking me to pay attention. And here I am, writing about it, even though I’m unsure if I’m doing this because I want to or because I was always meant to. It’s hard to ignore the sense that some things feel scripted. Like this blog. I decided to write it—or did I? Who’s to say I didn’t write it because “you” were always meant to read it? And now you’re reading it, exactly as it was intended. Or maybe it’s not fate at all—maybe it’s just coincidence. But then again, why does it feel like something more?

I think what gets me the most is how much this idea—this feeling—messes with my sense of choice. On the surface, it seems like I’m making decisions. I wake up, I choose what to do with my day, I decide what I’ll focus on. But when I stop and think about it, I wonder: am I really choosing? Or am I simply following a path that’s already laid out, and these "choices" are just illusions?

I’ve come across scientific theories that flirt with this same idea. Some physicists suggest that the universe operates on cause-and-effect, a chain of events that began long before we existed and will continue long after. That means every decision, every action, is just part of this chain, with no room for deviation. It’s a deterministic view of the universe—one that strips away the idea of free will entirely. Then there’s the concept of time. We tend to think of time as a straight line: past, present, future, all flowing one after another. But what if time isn’t linear? Some theories in physics suggest that every moment—past, present, and future—exists simultaneously. So, maybe every event in our lives has already "happened," and we’re just moving through it, frame by frame, like a movie we’re experiencing in real-time. In that sense, everything truly is written. It’s just waiting for us to experience it.

But here’s where the paradox kicks in. I don’t entirely believe that everything is set in stone. There’s a part of me that resists the idea. It feels too mechanical, too rigid. Life doesn’t always seem like a straight line; there are too many moments that feel spontaneous, unexpected, and, yes, even within my control. But at the same time, I can’t help but notice how often things fall into place at exactly the right time, no matter how hard I’ve tried to make them happen sooner.

I guess what I’m saying is that I feel like I’m stuck in this tug-of-war between fate and free will. Some moments, I’m convinced that I’m steering the ship, making choices that will shape my future. And other times, it feels like I’m being carried along by a current I can’t control, no matter how hard I paddle. It’s a strange feeling, this dance between believing in destiny and asserting my own free will. But the more I think about it, the more I wonder if both things can be true at the same time. Maybe we do have some say in the way our lives unfold, but perhaps certain events are bound to happen no matter what. Perhaps some choices are ours, while others are part of a larger, cosmic script.

So, what does this mean for me, for any of us? Should we just surrender to whatever life has in store, trusting that whatever happens was always meant to happen? Or should we keep trying, keep striving, as if we’re the authors of our own stories? I don’t have a clear answer. But maybe it’s not about having a definite answer. Maybe the beauty is in the uncertainty, in the mystery of it all. I’ll continue living my life, trying to make choices, knowing full well that some things will happen exactly when they’re meant to, no matter what I do. And maybe that’s okay.

Because, in the end, whether everything is written or not, we’re still experiencing it. We’re still living, feeling, and moving forward. And who knows—maybe this blog was always meant to be written, just so you could read it. Or maybe we both just happened to meet here, in this moment, by choice. Either way, it makes you wonder, doesn’t it?

Everything is written—or is it? Peace✌️

entry 27!

Who are you, really, when the curtains close, When the day dims and your layers unfold? When the only voice left is the one inside your head, What truths do they speak, the ones your lips have left unsaid?

Do they whisper things you refuse to know, Words tangled in the spaces where your fears grow? When the city’s roar fades, and silence is all that remains, Do you rush to fill the quiet, or let it echo like rain?

Do you seek out creation at the end of the day, Or let the hours slip through fingers in a familiar way? When your favorite song plays and no one's around, Do you dance like no one's watching, feel the rhythm unbound?

Does the music unlock memories you’ve tried to ignore, Echoes of moments, thoughts you can’t quite restore? Who are you beneath the image you display, Apart from the reputation you carefully array?

When you close your eyes, what dreams take flight? Do you credit your journey, the battles you’ve fought with might? Are you the one saving or waiting to be saved, Or both, in a dance with the roles you’ve engraved?

And when you need help, why does the answer turn “no”? What is it you’re hiding, what don’t you want to show? In the reflection of the steps you've taken so far, Do you recognize yourself—do you know who you are?

Who are you, really, when no one else can see? When it’s just you, your thoughts and your silent you!!

So, who are you really, when all the noise is gone? When the layers are stripped bare and the masks fall away, can you face the truth of who stands beneath it all? Do you find peace in that quiet space, or do you still search for answers that slip through your grasp like smoke? Perhaps the journey is not in knowing for sure, but in the constant unfolding—allowing yourself to evolve, to be raw, to be real. And in those rare, fleeting moments of clarity, maybe you glimpse the person you've always been, waiting to be seen. Peace✌️

entry 26!

There are times in life when we drift away from our plans, our schedules, and our own beliefs. It happens so easily—maybe because we get bored or lose sight of ourselves, or maybe we follow someone else’s path for a while. Every time I step off my own track and take the advice or direction of someone else, I seem to make mistakes. These mistakes don’t just pass by; they linger, hanging over me like a heavy burden that I carry for far too long. The weight of these decisions feels unbearable at times, and I suffer deeply.

I often find myself wondering, “Why do I let this happen?” Is it because I doubt myself? Or perhaps because, like many of us, I sometimes feel a little lost in my own world, unsure if my path is truly the right one. There’s this cycle I’ve noticed—I stray from my path, make mistakes, suffer the consequences, and then, somehow, I find my way back to myself. It’s not an easy cycle, and it often feels like I’m getting lost in some sort of black hole, where I can’t even see my own reflection.

During these moments of confusion, I lose more than just a sense of direction—I lose sight of who I am. It feels as though I’m falling into an abyss, unsure of my identity, my purpose, and even my worth. The world around me becomes a blur, and I start to wonder, “How did I get here?” It’s as if I’m floating in a vast space where nothing feels familiar or safe. But no matter how lost I get, there’s always something—a spark of hope, a leap of faith—that pulls me back to solid ground.

I think we all have these moments, where we lose track of who we are and what we’re supposed to be doing. For me, these moments of doubt and confusion often stem from dreaming too much or creating my own world of expectations. I’ve always had a vision of upgrading myself, of becoming better, day by day. I tell myself, “Just 1% better each day.” For over last seven years, I’ve lived with this mentality, constantly striving to improve, to reach that next level of self-awareness, of success, of fulfillment. Yet, even with all that effort, I still stumble. I still make mistakes.

Perhaps this is because there is no perfect definition of success, no ultimate version of ourselves that we are meant to become. Perfection is an illusion, something we chase but never fully reach. And that’s okay. I’ve learned that mistakes don’t define us, but they do shape us. Each mistake I’ve made has taught me something new, something valuable. They are the building blocks of my growth.

Just recently, I found myself in that all-too-familiar place of doubt. I listened to someone else’s advice, followed their path, and ignored my own instincts. I lost faith in myself, and now I’m suffering in a way that I haven’t experienced before. This time, it feels different—like I’ve lost something deeper, like my patience has run dry. I was talking to my Japanese aunt about it, a woman full of wisdom and life experience. She’s nearly 70 years old named NOMURA YOSHIKO(野村　佳子), and her words struck me with such simplicity and clarity. She explained everything in a way that made me see how much more I have to learn about patience, about life, and about myself.

This conversation reminded me of something important—sometimes, we desperately want something without fully understanding why. We chase after it, believing it will complete us or fill a void, only to realize that we weren’t ready for it. When I finally get what I’ve been chasing, I often find myself playing with it, testing it, before I use it for it’s true purpose. And this time, I lost something during testing that I truly wanted, something I couldn’t afford to replace. It sent me into a spiral of deep reflection, questioning everything—my path, my choices, my identity. But here’s where hope comes in. Even in the midst of that loss, I’m slowly finding my way back to the path that was always meant for me. It’s not easy, and I’m not entirely there yet, but I can feel myself coming back to life, rediscovering my purpose. I’m realizing that losing our way doesn’t mean the end of the journey. Sometimes, it’s part of the process. We get lost so that we can find ourselves again, with new eyes and a new perspective.

This experience has taught me that life is not about getting everything right the first time. It’s about making mistakes, learning from them, and continuing to move forward. It’s about having the courage to pick ourselves up after we’ve fallen, to trust in the process, and to believe that no matter how lost we feel, we will always find our way back.

So, if you’re like me, and you find yourself drifting away from your path, don’t despair. Mistakes don’t mean you’ve failed—they mean you’re growing. Each wrong turn teaches us something we couldn’t have learned otherwise. And while it may feel like you’ve lost your way, remember that you always have the ability to find your way back. You are stronger, wiser, and more resilient than you know.

What’s about your story? Have you ever found yourself following someone else’s path, only to realize it wasn’t right for you? How did you rediscover your own way? I’d love to hear how you’ve navigated the challenges of life, and what lessons you’ve learned along the way. Because in the end, we’re all on this journey together, and sharing our stories helps us find the hope and strength to keep going and going. Like the song of Oasis’s “Wonderwall”, give it a try and talk to you from other side of the world till then… Peace✌🏻

entry 25!

In the grand theater of life, we often find ourselves cast in different roles depending on who the audience is. To one person, you may be the embodiment of bravery, while to another, you might seem timid. You might be seen as a pillar of strength in someone's eyes and a delicate flower in someone else's. One person could view you as a beacon of goodness, while another might see you as deeply flawed. These contradictions aren't a reflection of your true self but rather the varied lenses through which people view you.

Imagine walking into a room full of mirrors, each one slightly distorted. Some mirrors make you appear tall and strong; others might exaggerate your imperfections. This is much like the way people perceive us—through their subjective lenses, shaped by their experiences, biases, and emotions.

You might be the source of comfort for one person, offering them solace in a stormy sea. Yet, to another, your presence might be unsettling, stirring up their inner turmoil. You could be seen as an irritant to someone who struggles with your energy, while to another, you might be the light that brightens their day. These varied perceptions can be confusing and even frustrating if we let them define us.

But here's the liberating truth - “The world is never going to agree on a single definition of WHO YOU ARE.” And that's okay. Every person's perception of you is colored by their own story, their own insecurities, hopes, and dreams. You cannot control how others see you, but you can control how you see yourself.

So, instead of bending and twisting to fit the ever-changing views of others, why not live in a way that feels true to you? Embrace your complexity and the fact that you are a multi-faceted being. You are brave and scared, strong and fragile, good and flawed—all at once. You are too much for some and just enough for others.

The world will continue to look at you from its subjective point of view, but your task is to stay grounded in your own truth. Define yourself by your own standards and values, not by the fleeting opinions of others. When you live authentically, you'll attract those who resonate with your true self, and their perceptions will reflect the beauty of who you really are.

In the end, remember that you are a mosaic of experiences, emotions, and traits. No one person’s perception can capture the entirety of who you are. So, step out of the distorted mirror maze and stand tall in your own light. The world will see what it wants, but only you can define who you truly are. right?? so just Peace✌🏻

entry 24!

After enduring two relentless night shifts and carrying a mountain of stress for what felt like an eternity, I desperately needed a break. My last real escape was a trip to Sikkim, West Bengal, India, back in 2018, just before the world came to a standstill due to the pandemic. Since then, life swept me away to Japan, where I spent two whole years without a single holiday or even a long drive. But finally, it was time for a change—my long-overdue summer vacation.

It’s funny how life seems to throw everything at you just when you’re about to take a break. This time was no different. Everything was a mess, as it always is when I try to slip into holiday mode. My “superpower” of unintentionally complicating things kicked in, and before I knew it, I was drowning in a sea of anxiety and sleepless nights. Atami was the plan, though I wasn’t sure if it would actually happen or who would join me. We started with five people, but life happened, and four of us made it to the destination. But it turns out, four was all we needed.

The moment I arrived in Atami, the sea worked its magic. It felt like the ocean absorbed all my stress, like a magician pulling off the ultimate trick. Standing in the water, I felt a deep connection—like the sea could carry my tears away and take care of the universe in my stead. I surrendered my worries to the waves and let the sun bathe me in warmth. I whispered my troubles to the breeze, and it responded with joyful whispers of its own.

Atami, a coastal gem in Shizuoka Prefecture, is where nature’s beauty unfolds in a unique way. The town is nestled between the soaring mountains and the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean. This perfect confluence of mountain and sea creates a landscape that feels almost otherworldly. On one side, you have the rugged mountains, their green slopes cascading down to meet the sparkling blue waters. On the other, the sea stretches out endlessly, its waves gently kissing the shore. This meeting point of the mountains and the sea gives Atami its distinct charm—a place where you can experience the serenity of the ocean and the grandeur of the mountains all at once.

The sky was a canvas of mystery, and time seemed to fly by as my friends and I soaked in every moment. Before I knew it, it was evening, and we found ourselves at the top of Atami Castle. The rain began to pour just as we reached the summit, offering a breathtaking view of the city below. Words can’t do justice to the beauty of that moment. The night ended with a game of Uno and deep talks on the beach, under the soft, mystical glow of the moon. Its blue aura illuminated the night, adding a magical touch.

The next day, we set off for Hatsushima Island, a place so beautiful and full of adventure that I could easily see myself retiring there one day. The island left an impression that will stay with me for a long time, a perfect finale to our unplanned yet joy-filled getaway.

This summer vacation was everything I needed and more. It was unplanned, full of surprises, and ultimately a reminder that life doesn’t always have to be robotic. This trip washed away my stress and the bad moments that had been weighing me down, giving me a fresh start. As I embrace this new, adventurous version of myself, I’m already planning to visit more places. The robotic life I’ve been leading served its purpose, but now I’m ready to explore again. I have a feeling some good news is on the horizon, and when it arrives, I’ll have no regrets about the life I’ve lived so far. For now, I’m just focusing on living in the moment, hoping for the best, and embracing every adventure that comes my way.

And of course, a heartfelt thank you to my more-than-just-classmates Sujan, Preeti, and Andrei for making this trip unforgettable. Peace✌🏻

entry 23!

Recently, I lost something again—my daily essential object, my AirPods. As usual, it felt bad at first. I searched everywhere but never found them. This was my second pair, engraved with “HEART BEAT,” and I loved them so much. Naturally, I got sad and started berating myself for being so careless. I kept telling myself not to be so reckless again. Losing my first pair on December 31st last year felt like losing a part of me. When I bought this second pair, I promised myself I wouldn’t be careless again. But here I am, having lost them once more.

Life is full of wonders, as every biographer says, and I used to believe that. I have a few important people in my life, and one of them was with me after I lost my AirPods. This person tried to support me, and then I realized that life’s wonders aren’t always physical things—they can be found in words too. This person said something that took all my pain to zero.

Today, I bought a new pair of AirPods. So, what’s the moral of the story? Whatever happens and whatever the situation is, try to find the positive side and move on. The sun will rise again tomorrow. And also, take care of the important people who are with you on your sad days.

So, if you ever find yourself in a similar situation—whether it’s losing something valuable or facing a setback—remember that it’s not the end of the world. Sometimes, it takes a kind word from a person to remind us that life’s true wonders lie in our connections and the support we give and receive. Embrace the lesson, stay positive, and move forward. After all, the sun will always rise again tomorrow. Peace✌🏻

entry 22!

At last, summer vacation has started, and it feels so good to have some time off after long workdays. Here in Tokyo, the heat is intense, much like Kolkata, and it seems to be getting worse by the day. So far, I have no plans for a trip, but I’m thinking about when I should go. Even though college is out, job hunting in Tokyo is really daunting. There are many companies to choose from, but finding the one that suits me best is the challenge. There’s one company that has caught my interest, and I’m currently in the interview phase. I hope it goes well.

In other news, after a long time spent coding and creating small and big projects, I finally feel ready to take on a real project that could help the community. I’ve never felt so prepared as I do now. With some free time, I can dedicate long hours to this endeavor without distractions. The project I’m reviewing requires proficiency in three main programming languages, so I’m revisiting those languages and making some progress.

As I continue to work on this project, I’ll update. For now, I’m diving into the review process and looking forward to what’s ahead. Until then, enjoy the summer! Oh, and before I sign off, here’s a song to match the summer heat and get you into the vacation spirit—"Heat Waves" by Glass Animals:

"Sometimes, all I think about is you Late nights in the middle of June Heat waves been fakin' me out Can't make you happier now"

Enjoy the vibes and the break! Peace✌🏻

entry 21!

From my childhood, I was brought up listening to Arabic tales. Many writers in Kolkata used these tales in their stories, and as an avid reader, they always struck a chord with me. In India, numerous movies and storybooks have adapted these tales. This led to Arabic music and imagery unconsciously attracting me. I always dreamt of an Arabian night: a full moon shining over the vast desert, with camels and the wind whispering across the dunes, casting shadows on the land. Oh my god, how fascinating and romantic that image is! I always wanted to experience it but never got the chance—maybe I will someday.

So why am I saying this? No, I am not in Arabia. Yesterday, I visited a planetarium in Ikebukuro, where you can experience an optical starry night in the ever-bright city of Tokyo. It was a heart-touching experience for me. After leaving Nagoya, I lost touch with the stars. In my childhood in India, during power outages, I first saw and felt the stars, and questions arose within me. In Nagoya, whenever I stepped out at night, the stars spoke to me. Just as my ancestors found peace in them, so did I. It was so spiritual and profound that words fail to capture it. But now, I reconnected with the stars, and it felt deeply personal and human. That atmosphere felt like a hollow, a beautiful void.

Seeing that sky, I realized what I had been missing. Even though it was a video, it felt overwhelmingly real. And not just any night sky—it was an Arabian night! Oh wow, how can I express this? The vision and sound were so powerful that I can't forget it. I relived my childhood dream, triggered by memories of those power outage nights with my old neighborhood friends. I felt such immense happiness that I want to store the memory forever. My heartfelt thanks to my friend Hao, who took me there to experience it. Thank you so much. It was like a window allowing me to leave the fake world and enter the real one.

This experience was not just a revisit to the planetarium but a journey back to my childhood. I remembered sitting on the rooftop with my friends, the electricity gone, and the sky full of stars. We would lie down, point out constellations, and make up our own stories inspired by the tales we had read. Those were the moments when the stars felt like friends, distant yet comforting.

In Ikebukuro, the stars may have been artificial, but the feelings they evoked were genuine. It was a reminder of how connected we are to the universe, and how even in the hustle and bustle of city life, we can find moments of tranquility and connection.

The Arabian night I witnessed was more than just a visual treat. It was a soulful experience, transporting me to a place of dreams and wonder. The music, the imagery, the atmosphere—all of it combined to create a magical moment that I will cherish forever.

So, here's to childhood dreams, to the magic of stories, and to the stars that continue to inspire us, no matter where we are. And a special thanks to my friend Hao, for giving me this beautiful gift. It truly was a window to leave the fake world and step into the real one. Peace ✌🏻