Riejesh

Tag: fiction

  • The Quiet Toll of Going All In

    The Quiet Toll of Going All In

    Since my last blog, something changed. On paper, life looks productive. Client meetings. Deck preparations. Strategy discussions. Exposure. Growth.

    But, In reality – it took a toll.

    I went hard. Harder than I probably needed to. And somewhere between back-to-back meetings and late-night revisions, my body tapped me on the shoulder — fever, cold, exhaustion. Nothing dramatic. Just enough to remind me I’m human.

    I had just started getting back into the gym rhythm. And then — pause. Again. It’s funny how discipline returns at it’s own pace… and excuses return louder.

    The Digital Noise

    I used to start my days with MFM and The Daily Brief. Sharp inputs. Clear thinking. Off late I miss it.

    Not because I didn’t have time — but because digital overload has a way of numbing curiosity. My mind is resisting going the extra mile.

    And then the subtle excuses creep in:
    “Tomorrow.”
    “After this week.”
    “Once things settle.”

    They never fully settle.

    The Trade-Off I’m Learning to Accept

    Sometimes I wonder… Should I have gone this hard from day one at my current organization?
    Maybe. But that would have cost me something else — exposure, networks, IIM rooms I once only dreamed off.
    And I’ve made peace with the fact that , Energy never disappears. It compounds.
    All the effort. All the grind. All the silent nights.
    It will return. Tenfold.

    Not necessarily as applause — but as leverage.

    Small Escapes Matter

    On a lighter note — wrapped up Stranger Things. What a show. The pacing. The transitions. The closure . Proper storytelling. It felt good to lose myself in something crafted with that much intent.

    We’ve been wanting to catch a movie in theatres too. But logistics and “Nothing worth watching” has rendered our decisions.

    Funny how accessibility shapes behavior.In our previous home, a theatre was five minutes away. Now it feels like a task.

    The Bigger Undercurrent

    Beneath all this routine — something is brewing. This week, I have an important meeting. Not just another meeting. One that could quietly tilt my career toward a different arc.

    Even writing that feels surreal. There was a version of me that thought this was not possible at all.

    Now? It’s on the table. Fingers crossed — yes.

    Where I Stand

    Life is moving at a pace I once couldn’t imagine. Faster. Heavier. Fuller. But I’m in a better space.

    Habits are finding their way back.There’s still a lot of work. But this time, I’m not chasing everything. I pause , access and choose . Interesting times ahead. I’m ready.

  • Just another Sunday !

    The world was moving at its own pace . A laid back Sunday was on the cards. Woke up to the chirping of birds and wandered off to grab some nice Biriyani for lunch.

    What followed was a casual shopping for footwears and just as we were getting started , I received a call .

    Not a regular catch-up, as the timing was off. It was my dad. Now for those who know less, my dad runs by the clock. So anything off the charts actually makes me wonder why?

    After the usual questions about my whereabouts, I received the news about my aunt, the only one I caught up with weekly and stayed with when we visited Trivandrum. Thoughts flooded my mind like a dam bursting. But she was only 51 years old; it couldn’t be that serious, I reassured myself.

    Dad’s voice, “she met with a minor accident.” He sounded light, not that his voice was shallow or showed any remorse. I can’t really blame him as he was only exposed to what was said to him. We took a pause, slowly thinking it might have been a bike.

    As the call end button was pushed, I looked up at my spouse and said, “That road is dangerous.”
    She – “Should we call your cousins?”
    Me – “They will be in a state of panic. Should we disturb them now?”

    My mind completely blind. The connection between my brain and reason felt… severed.

    She – “No .. But … “
    Me – “Let’s pause and then take a call”

    We headed to Lalbhag garden, and just as we paid for the car parking and the entrance, there came a second call.

    I took the phone, saw who actually called me, and then I froze for a few seconds. I told my wife, “Not good,” and slowly pushed the options on the screen to attend the call.

    Dad – ” She has left us behind”

    She was carrying lunch to her loved ones on the safest side of the road , from the front a WagonR came hurtling in, out of control. It hit a pipe , hit her , and then crashed into a wall. She did not bleed , but head injuries don’t ask for permission.

    This was the fourth person close to me to leave in the last three years. We sat there, empty, thinking about her family, about to be swallowed by chaos.

    What was meant to be another Sunday, ended as something else entirely.