Dear reader, Are you are surprised to see this post? So am I. Paragliding in Kamshet Every new year, more so over the past few, I wonder if the blog will finally receive a dignified funeral. January whizzed by and I did not have the slightest hankering to write. Is there a point to inflicting drab, unoriginal observations upon you? After all, we likely don't lead radically different lives. You can thank (or curse) the weekend for triggering my first post of 2024. I went paragliding in Kamshet. It was a chance conversation, an "ah fuck it, let's do this" moment, which led to me being strapped to the sail (in tandem with the instructor) for a 20-minute flight on Saturday evening. Yes, people eagerly swapped ghastly stories about previous flying experiences right up to the actual jump, but I did my best to ignore it all. If we listen to and believe everything we hear, we'd never go anywhere, somewhat like those poor sods living in anodized, monolithic apartment c
Dear reader, The festival of lights is upon us. If you still visit this blog, stay blessed and have a wonderful year. Last year, I wrote Wir Werden Sehen blissfully unaware of how normal life would exit, stage left, a week later. More than a year has passed and we're limping towards a new kind of normalcy. My first Diwali without any parents is a strange one. On one hand, I am slightly nonplussed. It's akin to putting a 1000-piece puzzle together, only to find a piece missing. On the other hand, I am coming around to the idea of playing from the music sheet of life with insouciance if not aplomb. I spent the days leading up to Diwali reminiscing about years past. Waking up frightfully early, the dreaded oil bath, the anticipation of sweets & savouries and of course, the camaraderie of lighting firecrackers with friends and family. That excitement, those pure emotions, is the past, like the afterglow of fancy rockets. Even if your Diwali veers diametrically away from the