Void!!

Experiencing the Void has been one of the most transformative periods of my life. It’s a time marked by silence, stillness, and deep reflection. Over the past few months, I’ve been confronted with powerful lessons about life, humanity, and myself. The Void has become both a challenge and an opportunity—a space where I’ve come to understand how I arrived at this point and how these moments of emptiness are shaping me into something new.

In many ways, my experience mirrors teachings from ancient Indian philosophy, where the concept of the Void, or “Shunyata”, plays a central role. Rooted in Buddhist and Hindu traditions, Shunyata refers to the emptiness or voidness of all things. It teaches that nothing possesses an inherent, independent existence. Instead, everything is interconnected and constantly changing. This understanding has helped me see the Void not as a place of despair but as a space of infinite potential—an opportunity to rebuild and grow.

Looking back, the last few months have been nothing short of a real-world lesson. Life has revealed its duality to me—the capacity of humans to both destroy and uplift one another. I’ve seen how easily words and actions can tear someone down, shattering their confidence and their sense of worth. Yet, I’ve also witnessed the incredible strength of kindness, how a single gesture or act of compassion can restore hope and remind someone of their value.

Navigating this period has been deeply personal. It’s been a time of loss, but also of immense gain. In the Void, I’ve found space to let go of the weight of the past. I’ve let go of attachments that no longer serve me, and in doing so, I’ve uncovered a sense of clarity I never thought possible. Ancient Indian teachings emphasize the importance of detachment, or “Vairagya”, which means releasing desires and the illusions of permanence. This principle has guided me in finding peace within the emptiness and seeing it as a stepping stone to transformation.

Each day, I learn something new about myself. I’ve discovered resilience I didn’t know I had and gained insight into the patterns and choices that led me here. The Void is not just a state of emptiness; it is a mirror, reflecting back the truths we often avoid. It’s a reminder that growth isn’t always about adding more but about shedding what doesn’t align with who we truly are.

This journey has also deepened my understanding of humanity. It’s taught me the importance of empathy and the profound impact we have on one another. We are interconnected, and every interaction holds the power to heal or harm. This interconnectedness, known in Hindu philosophy as “Advaita”, or non-duality, underscores that the distinctions we make between self and others are illusions. Recognizing this has changed how I approach relationships and how I move through the world. I’ve started to see the beauty in vulnerability—in allowing myself to be seen, even in moments of uncertainty.

The Void isn’t the end; it’s a beginning. It’s a place where possibilities exist, waiting to be shaped by intention and action. While it can feel daunting and unfamiliar, it is also where true transformation happens. From this space of stillness, I am rebuilding my foundation. I am learning to trust the process, to embrace uncertainty, and to find strength in the quiet moments.

If there’s one thing the Void has taught me, it’s that life is a constant cycle of destruction and creation. Every ending holds the seed of a new beginning, and every loss creates space for something greater. In Hindu philosophy, this cycle is beautifully represented by the concept of “Trimurti”—the trinity of Brahma (creation), Vishnu (preservation), and Shiva (destruction). This eternal cycle reminds me that even in the darkest times, there is light waiting to emerge. In the Void, I’ve learned to be patient with myself, to honor the process of becoming, and to believe in the potential of what comes next. This journey isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. And through it, I’ve come to realize that even in emptiness, there is infinite potential waiting to unfold. Cheers man!!

Nirvana!!

Kolkata is not just a city; for me, it is a sanctuary for the soul—a place where tradition and modernity coexist in harmony. As the sun sets over the Ganges, the city transforms before my eyes. Its golden lights shimmer on the river, and the evening hum of trams and temple prayers stirs something deep within me. The streets, alive with the aroma of frying spices and the laughter of strangers, feel like an extension of my own heartbeat.

The magic of Kolkata resides in its food, and for me, it is a gateway to my most cherished memories. Maa’s cooking has always been more than just meals; it’s a language of love that connects me to my roots. The crackle of mustard oil in the pan, the earthy aroma of macher jhol, and the indulgent richness of mutton kosa are not just tastes—they are time capsules, taking me back to Sunday lunches and familial warmth.

This city has a profound way of holding onto its elders, and I feel their wisdom in every corner. The stories they share are like bridges between generations, connecting the past with my present. When I walk down tramlines or through rickshaw-clad streets, I hear echoes of my childhood, laughter from friendships long past, and the whispers of a simpler time. Kolkata carries the weight of my nostalgia, grounding me in ways no other place can.

While I was in Tokyo, life moved at an exhilarating pace, brimming with energy and innovation. Yet, amidst all the excitement, I found myself yearning for the quieter, simpler joys I had once taken for granted. But this holiday in Kolkata changed me. It was here, in the quiet spaces of familiarity, that I found clarity. I realized what truly matters—not just where I’m going, but why I’m going there. This realization was like ‘sunyata,’ a profound emptiness filled with meaning, much like nirvana itself.

Coming back to Kolkata after years away has been overwhelming in the best way possible. Reuniting with old friends, revisiting places that once felt like home, and standing in spaces that carry so much of my history—it all feels like meeting a part of myself I had forgotten. The bittersweet joy of rekindling old bonds and walking familiar streets often leaves me teary-eyed, but these are tears of gratitude and love.

For me, Kolkata’s spirit is its most beautiful treasure. Every scent from its kitchens, every smile on its streets, and every word spoken by its elders feels like a balm to my restless soul. This city is my nirvana—a place where my memories and dreams intertwine, bridging the past and future with a timeless, everlasting joy. Cheers to life!!

Lost!!

“Hey you know once in a while you’ve got to toss out the map, lose the compass, and just wander,” I say to myself with a smirk, staring at the open world ahead. “Who says getting lost is a bad thing anyway? Maybe it’s just life’s holy way of saying, ‘Hey, you’re about to stumble onto something amazing!’”

I laugh at the thought, letting the weight of expectations slip away. “I mean, who really wants a straight, boring path when you can have twists, turns, and surprises around every corner? So, this time I’m giving me a chance to explore, to dance with uncertainty, to let the universe guide me instead of trying to steer it down.”

With a deep breath and a spark of mischief in my heart, I’m taking a step forward, ready to experience the wild, unpredictable adventure. Saying “Alright, life, surprise me—I’m all in!”

So, Cheers to 2025 and meet you on the other side of the world..!!

entry 38!

Hey, 2024,

You arrived like a whispered promise—a year brimming with hope, ambition, and dreams waiting to unfold. Little did I know you would become the year I had always longed for. Every moment, every day, felt like a chapter in a storybook written just for me. As I reflect now, my heart overflows with gratitude and emotions for the journey we shared.

I welcomed you in the most spontaneous way—sitting in a car on an open highway, screaming with joy as the clock struck midnight. The raw energy of that moment was the perfect start to a year filled with magic. From that first day, I knew I had mountains to climb and paths to forge.

One of my early decisions was stepping into a new part-time job. It wasn’t just a workplace—it became a classroom of life. This role challenged me, taught me lessons I didn’t know I needed, and, most importantly, helped me grow. That move turned out to be the first of many transformative steps this year.

Then came iOS development—a journey of discovery and expansion. I dove in headfirst, creating projects that weren’t just stepping stones but launching pads into a world where the only limit was the sky. It wasn’t easy. There were moments of doubt and exhaustion, but through persistence and belief, I found not only my capabilities but my purpose.

Another milestone was launching my personal website, primarily for blogging. This wasn’t just about sharing thoughts—it became a bridge, connecting me to strangers who became friends and rekindling old relationships that had faded over time. Among these reconnections was a dear friend who walked back into my life and, in doing so, brought warmth and healing. Their presence became one of the most cherished gifts of this year.

And then came the big moment: landing a permanent job. Years of effort culminated in this milestone, a reminder that dreams don’t just happen—they are built, one step at a time. Though the work begins in the next chapter, this achievement filled me with pride and renewed purpose.

This year was also one of personal strength. For the first time, I didn’t take a single holiday, instead staying in a relentless loop of work and growth. It was a grind I never thought I could endure, yet I emerged stronger than ever. I shed old beliefs, rewrote outdated narratives, and updated my vision of the world and myself.

But it wasn’t all work. I took a single trip to Atami—a short but soul-refreshing escape. It reminded me of the importance of stillness, of breathing deeply and reconnecting with the essence of who I am.

Throughout the year, I crossed paths with remarkable people—souls who left their mark on me with kindness, wisdom, and shared moments of laughter. Some memories were bittersweet, but every one of them helped shape me into who I am today.

2024 wasn’t just about achieving dreams; it was also about what came after. Standing at the peak of my goals, I realized that every summit is just the starting point for the next climb. I had been so focused on reaching this mountain that I hadn’t considered what came next. And so, I found myself resetting, searching for a new vision and purpose.

In this reflection, I revisited the pieces of myself I had set aside to move forward. I retrieved them, only to realize some no longer fit. Their time in my life was over, and letting go was both painful and liberating. Among those fragments, I searched for one thing I had loved most, only to learn that love isn’t about holding on—it’s about letting go. In that act of release, I found a love that didn’t demand compromise but offered freedom and fulfillment.

2024, you were more than a year—you were a teacher, a guide, and a friend. You taught me that life isn’t about carrying the weight of the past but about learning to walk lighter, to love deeper, and to dream even bigger.

As I stand here, ready to embrace the unknown of 2025, I carry with me the wisdom you’ve given me: that every ending is a new beginning, and every step forward is a testament to the strength I’ve gained. Thank you for everything, 2024. You will always hold a sacred place in my heart.

With unconditional love and gratitude,

Me

So let’s Cheers to 2024, the year that changed everything. 🥂♥️

entry 37!

Oh! My soul, listen to me. You and I—we don’t have forever. Do you feel it? The days slipping away like sand through clenched fists. This year is dying, its final breaths echoing in the silence. And here we stand, you and I, with so much undone, so much unsaid.

We are fleeting, you and I—nothing more than whispers in the chaos of existence. One moment alive, brimming with potential, and the next—gone. Just like that. Do you understand what that means? Gone. Not just lost, but beyond reach. The kind of gone that time won’t return. And yet, here we are, hesitating. I feel you holding back, chained by fear, by pride, by excuses. I’ve heard your reasons, over and over again: “Not now.” “Maybe later.” “What if I fail?” But let me tell you this, my dear soul—time is not your ally. Time doesn’t care about your fears or your excuses. It will take everything from you, one second at a time, until there’s nothing left.

How long will you wait? How long will you let fear keep you silent? You know the truth, don’t you? The person we want to reach may already be slipping away. The dreams we’ve buried may never see the light of day. And when it’s all gone, when there’s nothing left but regret, who will you blame?

Not time. Not fate. Not the world. It will be you.

I’m telling you this because I see it clearly now. I’ve stood in the silence of my own cowardice, hoping someone else would take the first step, waiting for life to hand me a perfect moment. But those moments don’t exist. The perfect time is now, this second, this heartbeat.

If you feel something, soul, say it. If you want something, reach for it. And if you fear failure, good. Fear is proof that it matters. Let it fuel you, not bind you. But hear me well—if the one we care about doesn’t come to us, if they let us drift into the void, then we have our answer. They were never ours to begin with. And yes, it will hurt. It will carve through us like the icy winds of this dying year. But at least we will know.

So, I beg you, my soul: no more waiting. No more hesitation. Let the weight of these words break through your apathy. Let the end of this year be a reckoning—a moment where we rise, where we act, where we speak what’s been buried in silence for far too long.

Because if we don’t, regret will be all that remains. And regret, my soul, will be the death of us.

The year is ending. Time is moving forward, whether we do or not. This is our chance to act, to break free, to take what’s ours. Let’s not stand here again next December, haunted by the same what-ifs.

This is our moment. Let’s take it. Together. Let’s Cheers—to courage, to truth, and to living without regrets…!!

entry 36!

Yesterday, while heading out for laundry, I stumbled upon a quote on a wall that stopped me in my tracks:

“散ると見たのは凡夫の木の葉は大地へ帰るなり”

“It is the ordinary man who sees the leaves as simply scattered; the truth is, the leaves return to the earth.”

The words struck me deeply, as if they had unlocked a doorway to another realm of understanding. They reminded me that while I often live in a world of my own creation, it’s vital to reconnect with nature and the cycles around us.

At first glance, the falling leaves might seem like the end of something—a quiet, bittersweet moment as they drift to the ground. But in truth, their journey isn’t over. Those leaves return to the earth, enriching it, nourishing the soil, and preparing the ground for new growth. What looks like an ending is simply part of a much larger, beautiful cycle.

Life, like the seasons, follows a rhythm. In autumn, we release what no longer serves us, much like the trees shedding their leaves. Then winter arrives, a time of stillness that can feel barren and lifeless. But beneath the surface, winter is full of quiet preparation. The trees conserve their energy; seeds lie dormant, waiting for spring’s warmth. Our lives mirror this cycle. In times of change or loss, when we let go of old habits, ideas, or relationships, it can feel like the end. Yet these moments are not endings—they are transitions. They are necessary pauses that create space for renewal.

Winter, with all its quiet and cold, isn’t something to fear or resist. It offers us a gift: time to reflect, rest, and prepare for what’s to come. It reminds us that even during life’s harshest moments, growth is happening beneath the surface.

The falling leaves teach us that nothing is ever truly lost. What we let go of becomes part of something greater. Our struggles and endings, like the leaves, enrich the soil of our lives, setting the stage for transformation and rebirth.

As the spring always follows winter, no matter how long or cold it seems. Trust in that cycle. Let the leaves fall. Let the winters come. They are not endings but beginnings in disguise, reminders that brighter seasons always lie ahead.

The wisdom of nature is all around us, patiently teaching us that even in letting go, there is life, hope, and the promise of renewal. Cheers!!

Captured in my local park, showcasing one of the oldest tree species.

entry 35!

Life in Tokyo is a delicate balance of contrasts. The city is alive with neon lights and unending energy, but winters here are quiet, almost haunting. As another year closes, I find myself reflecting on the duality of life—light and shadow, yang and yin—and how this city, and my journey as a student within it, have mirrored that balance.

There’s something magical about Tokyo in winter. The sharp cold air bites at your skin, and the days are shorter, but there’s beauty in how the city adapts. Cafes glow warmly, filled with laughter and the aroma of coffee. Streets are lined with decorations for New Year’s, sparkling like promises. This is the yang, the vibrant, bustling energy that Tokyo exudes even when the temperatures drop. For a student like me, it feels like the city is cheering me on—reminding me to push harder, to chase my dreams no matter how cold or tired I might feel. But winter also brings shadows. The nights stretch longer, and with them comes a certain loneliness. Walking home under the streetlights, bundled in my coat, I can’t help but notice how the light casts elongated shadows on the pavement. It feels like a metaphor for my life here: for every moment of joy and discovery, there’s an ache of homesickness or self-doubt. In these quieter hours, the yin settles in. It’s in the silence of my tiny dorm room, where I’m left alone with my thoughts, that I realize how much I’ve grown—and how much I’m still learning.

This year has been a cycle of beginnings and endings. I’ve thrown myself into projects, excited by the challenge of balancing schoolwork and my own ambitions. I’ve made friends who feel like family, shared meals under the glow of lanterns, and walked through Tokyo’s parks as golden leaves fell like blessings. These are my moments of light, when I feel alive and connected to the world around me. But there have also been times when I’ve struggled to keep up. Deadlines piled up. Some friendships didn’t last. The pressure to prove myself—to be better, smarter, more accomplished—loomed over me like the weight of an unspoken expectation. In these moments, I found myself lost in the shadows.

Patience has been my greatest teacher here. In a city that never stops moving, I’ve had to learn to slow down, to embrace the yin of stillness and reflection. Winter has taught me that it’s okay to pause, to sit with my doubts and uncertainties. Some nights, I’d stare out of my dorm window, watching the city lights blur in the distance, and let myself simply be. I stopped measuring my worth by how much I achieved and started finding value in the quieter, smaller moments. A kind word from a classmate. The first sip of hot tea on a freezing morning. The laughter I shared over a simple meal of ramen.

Now, as I prepare to step into another year, I see the beauty in this balance. Tokyo has shown me that light and shadow aren’t enemies—they coexist, shaping each other. Yang drives me forward, inspiring me to dream bigger, to create, to explore. Yin reminds me to rest, to reflect, to embrace the parts of myself I’ve ignored. It’s in the rhythm of this duality that I’ve found who I am: someone who is still learning, still growing, still finding harmony between the bustling city lights and the quiet of winter nights.

As the year ends, Tokyo is already preparing for its next beginning. The streets hum with anticipation, just as my heart does. There’s a certain peace in knowing that endings are never final—they’re simply the shadows that make way for new light. And so, I carry the lessons of this city, of winter, and of another year ending with me: to cherish both the light and the shadow, to be patient with myself, and to keep moving forward—one step at a time. Cheers!!

entry 34!

As another year is only 18 days away and there are times when everything feels like it’s slipping through your fingers, like the world has lost its color and left you in a place of endless monotony. Your mind, once sharp and vibrant, is clouded with fog, making even the simplest tasks seem insurmountable.

The joy you once found in life—whether it was in people, hobbies, or even the small moments—has faded into the background, leaving nothing but a hollow shell. You move through the motions of daily life, ticking off boxes, fulfilling obligations, but it all feels so mechanical. There is no passion, no excitement—just a sense of drifting without purpose.

The weight of the silence in your heart is deafening, and even the smallest spark of hope seems like a distant, unreachable dream.

Everything that once brought light to your world has turned gray, leaving you with a pervasive emptiness that is hard to shake. It’s a place where joy feels impossible, where the connection to others seems strained, and where you’re simply existing without truly living.

Yet, despite it all, you continue. You move forward not because you want to, but because it’s all you know to do. You go through the motions of life, a shadow of who you once were, driven by a silent will to just keep going, even when it feels like there’s no reason left to. It’s a slow, heavy endurance through a landscape that feels barren and lifeless. But in this numbness, there is a quiet resilience—because even though everything around you seems gray, you still find a way to keep going, not knowing what awaits you beyond the fog. Like I’m writing this words with all this gray things within my mind. So Cheers!!

entry 32!

“This blog’s content will remain within me, unspoken and untold.”

entry 31!

Today, I managed to find an answer to my ever-expanding quest. It feels like I’ve been trying to scratch an itch deep within my soul for as long as I can remember. Honestly, I wasn't even sure what I was looking for—until now. What I wanted was a philosophy that works for every situation. A simple, universal answer to life. Something that can hold me when everything else is slipping away.

After all this time, I finally see it, though the answer isn't what I expected. Maybe it’s peace of mind that I want, a sense of calm that could silence the chaos in my head, a life without complications—something that could ease all my worries. I think about it when I lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, listening to my own heart beat, wondering if it’s possible to ever feel truly content. I want to believe that there’s a way, but the path never feels clear, and maybe that’s because it isn’t meant to be. How could there be a simple path? I’ve got my insecurities, my jealousy, my superstitions, my moments of wanting validation from others. I’ve got my restless nights, the days where I feel like I’m not enough, the days when I overthink everything and spiral. And that’s okay. I don’t need to rise above it all to find the answer. Maybe it’s not about erasing those parts of me, but about accepting them.

Sometimes I think I know what I want, and then it slips through my fingers, and I end up wanting something else. What I think I want and what I end up getting, what I get and what I end up searching for—they all blur together, and I wonder if I’m chasing shadows. I wonder if I’m really as deep as I think I am, or if it’s just the words that make it sound profound. Sometimes I feel like I’m wide open, laid bare for everyone to see, vulnerable and raw. And sometimes I feel like there’s nothing deeper to me at all, just layers and layers of confusion.

But today, in one of those moments of clarity, I realized something important—maybe I’m just meant to flow, like a river. When I can let go of all the overthinking, the analyzing, the questioning, and just exist, that's when I find peace. Maybe that’s the metaphor that ties together all of my philosophical quests—the idea of a river's flow. To move with life, to embrace each moment, whether it's joyful or painful, whether it’s filled with laughter or tears. To move like a river, knowing that the path doesn’t have to be clear to be right. I think of all the happy moments, the sad moments, the mundane seconds in between, and maybe the answer has been there all along.

Maybe I don’t need a perfect philosophy that works for every situation. Maybe I just need to be here, fully, in every messy, beautiful, confusing moment. To embrace the twists, the turns, the bends, and let life carry me. Even when I don't know which path to take, maybe I just need to trust that moving forward is enough—that somehow, I'll find my way.

Maybe that’s it. Maybe the only philosophy I need is this: just to flow, with all my heart, through whatever comes. Peace ✌🏻