I was in New York to look for compelling stories for my blog. After an exhausting flight to New York, I was feeling jet-lagged and in need of relaxation. My friend suggested I go fishing to unwind, but I realized I didn’t have any bait. I headed to a grocery store to pick some up, but instead of rushing, I decided to chillax and take my time. That’s when I met a person who was using bait to catch some big ones. We struck up a conversation, and I learned that he ran a website that offered free Groupon deals. What surprised me most was that he’d built a 32 million dollar business without owning any physical properties or offices. It was an exciting conversation that left me feeling inspired and energized.
I was on the lookout for compelling stories for my blog, as I was set to leave the USA in a fortnight. My next destination was Texas, a place that had fascinated me since childhood. I had always been captivated by fanzines about the Texas lifestyle and their vibrant culture. During my journey, I was fortunate enough to sit next to a supporting character from the movie The Meanest Man in Texas. This unexpected encounter further awaken my interest in Texas. He shared numerous captivating stories that made Texas sound even more exhilarating than I had imagined. He confirmed that Texas was indeed the raving place I had always read about. As we landed and he took his next flight, I felt a surge of excitement. I was about to experience firsthand the vibrant world I had only known through fanzines.
I stumbled upon a remarkable story in a Texas science laboratory. While searching for inspiring tales for my blog, I met a student who turned sci-fi inspiration into reality. They were working on a revolutionary technology to combat smog and air pollution, converting it into oxygen - a breakthrough that could potentially make the Martian atmosphere breathable! What struck me was the contrast between our tendency to exploit loopholes in our systems and the dedication of these innovators to finding solutions. The student’s demo left me amazed, unveiling the vast potential of this trillion-dollar industry. The encounter was a testament to human ingenuity and the power of sci-fi to spark real-world innovation, clearing the smog to reveal a brighter future.
Journey began, I boarded a train to California in search of fresh stories for my blog. Striking up a conversation with a fellow passenger, we started discussing the merits of moped engines. However, the conversation took an unexpected turn when they shared their perceptions of India, describing it as undeveloped and dirty, when I shared that how beautiful we developed India is, it was hard to believe them . They mentioned that certain telecasts had perpetuated a negative image of India, which would linger in the minds of Americans, making it challenging to change their perceptions. I listened intently, realizing the power of media telecasts in shaping global opinions and the need to showcase the real India to overcome such lingering misconceptions. As I reached at my destination, I couldn’t help but wonder: “Why don’t we showcase the positive aspects of India to the world instead of highlighting our problems? We should focus on solving our issues internally, just like every city in the USA has its own set of challenges, but they don’t broadcast them globally.”
After reaching California, I took a refreshing nap and then headed to the park for a run and some exercise. As I sat on a bench, I struck up a conversation with a person beside me, asking about California and city life. The conversation took an intriguing turn when I discovered that he was an FBI agent. He shared some fascinating stories, including one about Pakistan, where businessmen funded an agent to create a scandal video to topple the government. Shockingly, the politician in question had embezzled public Medicare funds to build a personal heliport. Though I had to leave for my next meeting to gather more content for my blog, the encounter left me with a lasting impression of the intricate workings of global politics and the darker side of power struggles, where scandal and corruption can lead to exploitation of public resources like Medicare for personal gain, even something as extravagant as a heliport.
I was searching for stories to share on my blog. I met up with a friend who is a neurosurgeon in California. Initially, I hesitated when he requested that I visit a hospice with him, but after his second request, I agreed to go. While at the hospice, a lady passing by gave me a warm smiggle . I was curious about the people there, individuals on the brink of death who still managed to keep the momentum of life alive. Intrigued, I asked them questions about their lives. I was amazed by their responses. One lady, a pilot, shared numerous stories about her good and bad experiences and her travels. She smiled and said to me, “Man, live your life to the fullest. If you ever get an expiration date on your life, you’ll regret not living it fully.” When I was about to leave, with tears in my eyes, She added that as humans, we have the luxury to travel, eat, run, and do research—luxuries that many species do not have. Her words left me questioning: Are we truly living our lives to the fullest?
I left California and arrived in Delaware, seeking new stories for my blog. I shared a cab with two fellow passengers, who suggested I try alcopop, a drink I politely declined due to my non-alcoholic preferences. This sparked an intriguing conversation, revealing the heinous truth behind the production of alcopop. My companions shared stories of how Black people were forced to work in scorching sunlight for over 18 hours to extract the ingredients, perpetuating a long history of exploitation. They spoke of a disturbing Zeitgeist, where alcopop was once seen as a privilege reserved for White people, highlighting the dark history of racial inequality in the country. Despite progress, Black people continue to fight for their rights, and their stories serve as a poignant reminder of the ongoing struggle for true equality.
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I apologize for being busy over the last three days and not being able to send the blogs as promised. When I arrived in Delaware for work, I had an interesting encounter in the cafeteria while having coffee. I met an Indian guy who was there to design edutainment games for infants. He told me that he got the idea from a scene in a Skyoctober movie where someone used Docusoap to build a rocket. Our conversation about new technologies was fascinating. He mentioned that many children are becoming peevish due to violent games. I asked him if it was really necessary to introduce infants to edutainment games and expose them to technology at such a young age. Wouldn’t it contribute to their peevish behavior? He responded with another example from a docusoap movie. It was an enlightening discussion, but I had to leave to meet a friend. As I walked away, I was left pondering whether edutainment is the only way forward for our children.
I was at the Delaware airport, waiting to board my flight to Atlanta. I was fascinated by a young girl enthusiastically playing with a robot, nuzzling and talking to it, unaware that it was just a robocall. Her parents, engrossed in listening to a podcast, seemed oblivious to their daughter’s interaction with the robot. As their podcast ended, I initiated a conversation with them, inquiring about the potential consequences of excessive technology on their child’s life. As scientists, they shared their concerns about the potential risks of lacking technological skills, which could lead to bullying and struggles in the digital age. As the boarding announcement interrupted our conversation, I said them bye, left pondering the question: is it essential to expose our children to so much technology, and what are the implications of doing so? The image of the girl nuzzling the robot, and the parents engrossed in their podcast, lingered in my mind, highlighting the complexities of our tech-driven world.
I arrived in Atlanta looking for compelling stories for my blog. After having brunch, I was tired and decided to take a nap. In the evening, when I woke up, I went to a multiplex to watch a movie called “The Fall Guy.” I noticed a man sitting next to me, waiting to enter the multiplex. I initiated a conversation. He resembled a true hero, sitting in a wheelchair and wearing a black pleather jacket. He told me he was in the armed forces and had been posted in Afghanistan. We had a wonderful discussion about the current situation over there. He lost his leg while protecting 230 students from a terrorist attack at a school. When the announcement for the movie was made, I said goodbye to him with great pride. As I walked away, a question pondered in my mind: why do these soldiers never think about themselves, regardless of the flag they serve under? In the corporate world, we are taught to be selfish, but what would happen to any country if its soldiers were selfish?
I was en route to Georgia Tech Atlanta University to meet a friend and uncover compelling stories for my blog. But my plans were disrupted when I received a call from my parents, who were on a staycation. They broke the news that an attempt had been made to assassinate Trump, which I initially thought was exaggerated. However, the simultaneous broadcast on both radio and television, known as a simulcast, confirmed the shocking truth. Adding to my disbelief, a message popped up on my phone announcing a two-day closure of the Georgia campus. I was left stunned, realizing that even in a country that boasts of its advancements, there are still significant loopholes in the system. The incident lingered in my mind, raising questions about the harsh realities of power struggles and the vulnerability of leaders and their families to assassination attempts.
I planned to visit Atlanta but couldn’t due to the Trump incident and feeling quite lethargic. After campus opened, I met up with my friend Abhishek, a graduate student at Georgia Tech. I was eager to hear about his life, especially how he manages to work in three different places to cover tuition, rent, and groceries, all while getting only four hours of sleep. I found it fascinating how he juggles work and classes. Abhishek shared wonderful stories about university life and much more before he had to rush off to work. As I wandered the city for more compelling stories for my blog, I couldn’t shake off the question lingering in my mind: Why do students in their 20s often complain about being busy without earning, while others like Abhishek work tirelessly on minimal sleep?
I as I waited at Atlanta airport for my next flight to Florida for compelling stories for my blog, I couldn’t forget the conversation I had with a couple and their 11 Year-old daughter. She had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and their struggles navigating the healthcare system stayed with me. I wondered how many more people were facing similar challenges, and why a country like the USA, which appears so fascinating from the outside, was struggling to serve its people’s basic needs. I made a mental note to delve deeper into this issue, to understand the complexities of the healthcare system and the challenges people face in accessing quality care. My USA journey was turning out to be a eye-opening experience, and I was determined to share the stories I was collecting with the world.
I arrived in Florida eager to discover compelling stories for my blog. I quickly made my way to meet a friend who works as an engineer at a hydroelectric plant construction site. This was my first encounter with a dam and hydroelectric plant, sparking childhood excitement and curiosity about these structures. As my friend shared insider details about their operations, it left me pondering the origins of such human-made infrastructure like embankments and dams, and what motivates us to undertake such monumental construction projects.
I found myself in Florida, sitting in a restaurant having brunch and brainstorming new stories for my blog. Suddenly, I heard a Hindi song playing behind me, which led to a conversation with an American guy whose parents were originally from India. Intrigued, I asked about his parents’ journey. He shared that his parents were snake catchers in India, performing snake shows. An American circus owner invited them to the USA, and their show became a hit in the 1980s. However, this success brought about enormous problems in Florida, where pythons started killing native animals. He showed me some videos of his father with these enormous pythons, which was fascinating. He even invited me to dinner, but I had to leave for another meeting with a friend. As I left, I couldn’t stop pondering the question: how can an opportunity change your life so drastically? A small chance can create wonders. The snake catcher’s son became a doctor, and his daughter is now a banker. Can we create such opportunities regardless of financial background?
I was brainstorming new stories to add to my blog, which led me to sleep very late at night. Suddenly, I heard a cacophony outside my hotel. I asked the hotel staff about the commotion and was told that it was a picket against the embankment of rivers, which was destroying the natural flow of the water. Intrigued, I visited the protest site and inquired about the reasons and causes. One of the protestors explained that the government had expedited the embankment process, which was ruining the beauty of Florida’s rivers. He mentioned that this could cause enormous changes in the city and climate, potentially triggering earthquakes. He also shared a personal story: his daughter had been diagnosed with waterborne diseases, which he attributed to these structures. I had to leave for my next meeting, so I bid him goodbye and promised to write about the issue. As I walked away, a question lingered in my mind: Why can’t humans use natural resources without harming them? Why do we always have to alter the way nature works?
I was sleeping when someone knocked on my door at 5:30 in the morning. When I checked, it was the hotel staff delivering an envelope from the Florida police department. They had summoned me for some questions about yesterday’s protest and advised me not to get involved in protests, warning that it might be problematic for me. I explained everything, and they agreed on some of the points I shared. They also inquired with my friends and the hotel staff about my stay. It was a bit embarrassing, but I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong. However, it was also a bit scary and problematic to receive a summons without knowing the laws of the land. I packed my stuff and went to the airport, heading to Boston to look for new stories for my blog. This situation made me ponder: who gives them the authority to interrogate someone for participating in a protest? Why can’t we participate in protests regardless of our nationality?
I was sitting on an airplane, pondering new stories for my blog. A young couple seated next to me began debating about the Rajendra Nagar and Patel Nagar incident in Delhi. Intrigued, I joined their conversation about the horrifying event. They revealed that they had both been policymakers in India for a few years. They shared their perspective on how the country seemed reserved for only a select few, mentioning many things that I can’t disclose here. They expressed concern that four of the nation’s best resources had died in the incident, yet the broader public appeared indifferent. While students protested, they believed that all citizens should rise up to demand a better country. They also warned that we are on the brink of depleting our natural resources. As our flight neared Boston, I realized how absorbed I had been in the discussion—the four hours had flown by without me noticing. A question lingered in my mind: Are we, as citizens of India, apathetic to the point of being metaphorically dead? This incident could happen to anyone, yet it seems we remain largely unconcerned. This notion is important, and I felt a renewed sense of urgency to address these issues in my writing.
After arriving in Boston, I called my friend from the airport. He works as a scientist at a Boston environmental research center. The drive to our destination took 1.5 hours, during which I decided to bring up the topic of the environment. He passionately discussed the challenges of environmental collapse and the impact of global warming on various species. He emphasized that while issues like global warming are critical, the transient trends in fashion also pose significant environmental challenges. His research center invests millions of dollars into understanding and mitigating these complex issues. As we arrived at our destination, I couldn’t help but wonder why our country isn’t taking more proactive steps to establish similar research institutions and fund numerous scholarships aimed at addressing these pressing environmental concerns.
I worked late into the night to looking for compelling stories for my blog, so I ended up sleeping very late in the morning. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door—it was a friend who was heading to the UPS store to renew his lease agreement. He asked if I wanted to join him, and I agreed. The drive was about 30 minutes from his house, and the weather was beautiful. I initially thought it would take the entire day, but I mentioned that I wanted to stop at Starbucks to get coffee. My friend agreed, and I quickly grabbed my coffee, which only took 15 minutes. During this time, I received a call from his family, and he went to UPS Store, and whole process took 30 minutes. I was amazed at how efficiently everything was managed here. In contrast, in India, such processes often take an entire day or even longer. The transparency and efficiency here are stark contrasts. My friend mentioned that some UPS store managers also handle vehicle registrations and other services. I spent the whole day pondering why in India these authorities take so long and lack transparency, forcing working individuals to waste valuable time and sometimes resort to bribery to expedite processes.
I was staying at a friend’s house in Boston, searching for compelling stories for my blog. After a series of meetings, I craved a traditional Indian breakfast and headed to a nearby restaurant. As I entered, I was struck by the chef grinding spices manually. It was a rare sight, as most restaurants opt for pre-packaged spices. My curiosity was piqued, and I asked the chef about this unusual practice. He shared that they had previously used packet spices, but wanted to differentiate themselves from others. By grinding spices through an ancient process, they discovered a distinct flavor that set them apart. This encounter left me pondering a crucial question: why do we hastily adopt technology without understanding its impact? In India, the wealthy classes have embraced ancient techniques, while the poor and middle class rush to bring machines into their homes, often without considering the value of traditional methods. The simple act of grinding spices had sparked a profound reflection on our relationship with technology and tradition.
I received an intriguing conference invitation at a university to explore the harnessing of Mars’ resources. Eager to uncover compelling stories for my blog, I attended the event and met an MIT Engineer dedicated to this innovative field. Our conversation revealed that the US government and private institutions are investing heavily in harnessing energy from other planets, with a surprising focus on asteroid mining. As I departed for my next conference, I couldn’t shake off the thought: why are we exploiting every planet and asteroid? Are humans destined to collapse the entire universe? Or, as someone from a third-world country, am I simply not privy to the concerns that drive these endeavors? The importance of harnessing resources had sparked a profound reflection on humanity’s relationship with the cosmos.
I arrived in Baltimore eager to uncover new stories for my blog. After reaching there, I decided to dine at a Thai restaurant. As I waited for my food, I couldn’t help but overhear a nearby group of couples passionately debating the concept of first-world countries lugging the burden of third-world nations. Their discussion struck me deeply, especially since the waiter and chef were from Asia and Africa respectively. Intrigued, I joined their conversation and discovered a multitude of perspectives. We discussed how developed nations often harness resources from less developed regions, prompting me to ponder the concept of narcissism in global dynamics. These ‘hunters’ of resources seemed unaware of their own privilege, forgetting the impactful words of Shashi Tharoor on this very topic. Reflecting on the evening, I couldn’t shake the lingering question: how can these individuals justify such selfishness when their prosperity often comes at the expense of others? The encounter left me with a renewed perspective on the complexities of global relationships and the ethical responsibilities that accompany privilege.
I was scrolling through LinkedIn to connect with professionals in Baltimore for compelling stories for my blog. I came across an Indian-origin scientist at Johns Hopkins University. After connecting on LinkedIn, he invited me to the university to see a sophisticated machine used for decoding DNA. It was mesmerizing to understand the complexity of DNA and its potential to cure diseases and disabilities before birth. Curious, I asked the professor if we might create superhumans with this technology. He laughed and replied, “No, Atul, our primary goal is to cure genetic diseases.” I plan to share his story in an upcoming blog about a boy from UP who achieved remarkable excellence in his field. This experience left me pondering whether these institutions are like places of worship and what they are truly doing for humanity, making us special among all species on this planet.
I was scrolling through the internet, looking for the best places to visit in Baltimore to compelling stories for my blog. Around midnight, I got a call from a friend who urged me to visit the George Peabody Library and the Walters Art Gallery. He insisted, saying, “You would rue not visiting these places. “At first, I was skeptical—who goes to a library and an art gallery on a trip? I decided not to go, but then I reconsidered and thought maybe I should give it a chance. The next day, I visited these places, and I must say, they were stunningly beautiful and mesmerizing. I couldn’t believe the architecture and the sheer size of these places. The George Peabody Library was the most amazing and largest library I’ve ever seen in my life. As for the Walters Art Gallery, I would highly recommend it to all my viewers. It’s a testament to human imagination and the power of art. The gallery holds a collection from the mid-19th century, offering a peaceful experience, with some pieces being the rarest on the planet. As I made my way back to my hotel, I couldn’t stop wondering why we aren’t building libraries like the George Peabody Library anymore. Why aren’t we investing in such cultural treasures? Are we going to rue not creating such places in the future?
After grinding through countless meetings over the past few days, I decided it was time for a break. I chose to spend the day at Baltimore Beach, where I lay on the warm sand, basking in the sun for hours. Nearby, children played with water toys, while others were harnessing their creativity to build intricate sand structures. They weren’t lugging the weight of expectations or striving to perform at their best—they were simply happy, with no rue for the future or concern about what they might achieve. In contrast, we adults are often caught up in the most sophisticated machines designed by humans, which can lead us down a path of narcissism. We grind away, harnessing every ounce of our potential, not for our own joy, but to become the best resources for someone else. As I said goodbye to the beach, my mind began storming with thoughts, searching for compelling stories for my blog. It made me wonder: why can’t we be happy? Why do we invest our best time in activities that drain us when we could be enjoying life and making it more fun?
After refreshing myself at the beach, I decided to try Malaysian food despite my cynical attitude towards new cuisines. As an Indian, I usually prefer Indian food. At the Blue Island restaurant, I asked the chef what I should try, and he recommended nasi lemak. It was an amazing dish with rice, pandan, coconut milk, and various chutneys. It made my day, and I wrote a special note for the chef and left a tip. As I walked back to my hotel, I pondered why we are so cynical about trying new things. I realized that this cynicism often extends beyond food to many aspects of life. Embracing new experiences might lead to some of the best moments of our lives.
I spent the early morning improvising my speech. I had been invited to speak at a Junior high school in Baltimore to share my experiences of traveling to different countries. I was tense, unsure of how to convey my experiences to the students, and a bit afraid. Seeking reassurance, I called my mother. She was calm and confident, telling me that she believed I would do my best. Despite knowing little about traveling, her words gave me the courage I needed to deliver my speech. During the session, I shared my travel experiences with the students, who asked a wide range of questions about traveling—expenses, accommodations, and whether it’s safe for girls to travel alone. They were curious about Asia and much more. After answering all their questions, I reflected on the way back. Our parents have an incredible ability to boost our morale. They believe in us just a little more than anyone else. Yet, we often avoid talking to them about our problems, not giving them a chance to understand or support us.
I was exploring the internet to find more intriguing places for compelling stories for my blog when I came across some disturbing news about Vinesh Phogat. I felt a deep sense of disappointment and impotent frustration because, despite her reaching the finals of wrestling, she didn’t win. It was heartbreaking, and I decided to write about it on my blog and raise awareness within the community. After spending over four hours online, I couldn’t understand how such issues could cause a loss in the medal round. As a country, we should invest more in various sports to create more opportunities and improve our chances on the global stage.
I was looking for compelling stories for my blog, and I found myself at a fix when I had the chance to meet an MMA fighter named Jim Miller in Baltimore, Who was involved in the controversy and protests for the autonomy of Texas as a separate country. It was an interesting encounter, especially since I’ve been fascinated by MMA fighting since childhood. Jim was the kind of fighter who could beat his opponents black and blue , and I was eager to learn more about him. However, I found myself beating around the bush , unable to bell the cat and get to the heart of the matter. Jim was hard to manage—he wasn’t one to lose his temper easily, but he was extremely self-centered, constantly blowing his own trumpet . During our conversation, one of my colleagues unwittingly added fuel to the fire by telling Jim he was wrong in his last match. This put Jim into a brown study , and he responded that he had to win by hook or by crook . This statement became the bone of contention for us, as we valued humanity above all, while for Jim, winning was the top priority. One of my colleagues, always at my beck and call , questioned Jim further, but his confidence in his discipline and approach to winning was unlike anything I had ever seen. On my way back to the hotel, I couldn’t help but wonder about the level of dedication and mindset people like Jim possess to change the world. While other youths are busy with mobile phones or caught up in various addictions, fighters like Jim are wholly committed to their craft, no matter the cost.
I was looking for compelling stories to include in my blog. During a visit to the dentist, I met a doctor who was not only highly skilled but also insightful. After she learned that I was from India, she asked, “Are you from India?” I replied, “Yes.” This sparked a discussion about the Kolkata rape case. She remarked, “Nowadays, Indians seem more interested in tweeting about Bigg Boss and prying into others’ lives than addressing horrific incidents like this. She added, Sitting here in America, I find myself deeply concerned—why aren’t these Men and women back in India equally outraged? Her words made me question: Have we, as a society, become desensitized? Are we so absorbed in the distractions of entertainment that we overlook the heinous crimes happening around us? Have we become complacent, allowing politicians and bureaucrats to wield power unchecked while we sleep peacefully, waiting for these tragedies to hit closer to home before we take notice? The act of prying into others’ lives might seem trivial, but perhaps it’s a symptom of something deeper—our collective indifference to the things that truly matter. Are we, as a society, dead?
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It may take some time; please move on to the next day.
I was brainstorming compelling stories for my blog when a friend invited me for a city biking (biking means cycling in USA)trip. I was struck by the modern traffic and extensive biking tracks, as I hadn’t ridden a bike in ten years. The experience was exhilarating. During a break in the park for snacks, his son invited me to jump on a trampoline. As I joined in, my hand twitched and started to ache. We visited a nearby doctor who prescribed pain relief medicine and advised some rest. Despite the discomfort, biking through the city with my friend and his son was a fantastic experience. It made me reflect on why we often neglect simple childhood joys that can bring so much happiness to our days.
I was searching for feminists in the city to interview for compelling stories for my blog. After reviewing numerous profiles, I sent out interview requests. Just then, my phone rang—it was my mother. She informed me that it was the punyatithi of my grandmother and reminded me to perform a small worship and refrain from eating non-vegetarian food, as per tradition. This call made me reflect on my grandmother. Although she was conservative, she sponsored the education of my bua, my mother, and my aunty, demonstrating true feminism. Despite holding conservative values in a Bihar’s village, she educated her entire family, which personally benefited me by enabling me to pursue a higher degree in computer science. As I received a message on my phone from Ms. Sudhakar, an entrepreneur from Baltimore, I pondered the notion of feminism. My grandmother, despite her conservative outlook, was a true feminist by empowering her family through education. This contrasts with some contemporary self-identified feminists who may not always support others or promote independence. True feminism, as exemplified by my grandmother, is not just about advocating for gender equality but also about actively supporting and uplifting others.
I met my friend Panther, who is an inspiring figure from my college days. Despite having a broken hand that twitched while biking, he had managed to overcome his shortcomings within a year. He was a model student, a true sportsman, and a remarkable human being. When I entered his villa, I was surprised to find a farm inside his house, complete with cows and goats grazing. While this might have seemed to demean the villa’s beauty, it actually added to its unique charm. I marveled at the contrast between us; though we came from the same college and were both garrulous in our youth, Panther had achieved so much while I struggled with basic necessities. During our conversation, Panther revealed what led him to his level of perfection. He asked about my shortcomings, which I was aware of but had not addressed seriously. He shared that a book had profoundly impacted his life, advocating for a 1 percent improvement each day to achieve excellence. Panther tracked his progress monthly, which helped him reach his goals and find a supportive wife who is a feminist and has greatly assisted him. As I left his villa, I was left pondering why we don’t actively work on our shortcomings and strive for daily improvement.
I found myself sitting in Baltimore Airport to looking for compelling stories for my blogs, waiting to catch a flight to Miami. I was thrilled at the prospect of exploring the beaches I had only seen in movies. While sitting at the airport, I struck up a conversation with a priest from a church in Baltimore who was also headed to Miami for a conference. The discussion intrigued me because he held a PhD in Chemical Engineering from the University of Pennsylvania. My first question to him was why material things seemed so immaterial to him. He replied, “At the last stage of our lives, we decide to go into the premises of God.” He began sharing insights that were completely new to me, stating a few lines that were truly unique. He asked why I hadn’t pursued a stable job or a family, and then he explained why he chose both God and chemical engineering. “I didn’t fail,” he said. “I didn’t use my degree or knowledge to make money or acquire immaterial things. I love to travel, dance, and cook, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stray from the path of God, because it brings true happiness and calmness.” He taught me many valuable lessons during our conversation, and his answers brought me unexpected joy. The discussion ended when the pilot announced our arrival at our destination. I said goodbye to him. While waiting for my cab, I pondered why we often measure the value of our degrees by the money they bring. This man was working in his field and was more satisfied than most of us. The brightness and charm on his face were undeniable. It made me wonder why people often turn to God only at the last stage of life. What is the truth behind this?
I arrived in Miami, eager to find compelling stories for my blog. I took a cab from the airport to my hotel, where a book on neuroscience caught my attention. The driver, a PhD scholar working part-time, started a fascinating conversation about neuroscience, sharing insights about the brain and how humans are governed by their choices rather than regrets. After reaching my hotel and saying goodbye, I reflected on how striking it is that someone with such high qualifications could drive a cab without any hesitation. It made me wonder why societal expectations seem so different in developing countries.. This made me question why societal expectations are so different in developing countries.
I was about to sleep after a long day of traveling and searching for compelling stories for my blog. Just as I was drifting off, I heard a noise coming from the next room. Curious, I opened the door and saw a old man talking to the hotel staff. Concerned, I asked what had happened. He replied, “My wife is in severe pain, but she should be fine in 15 minutes.” A few other travelers and I requested the hotel staff to give them some privacy. This encounter sparked a deep conversation between us. The man confided that they were planning to fly to Europe next weekend for euthanasia , which is illegal in the USA. He revealed that his wife had asked for this as her anniversary gift. With tears in his eyes, he admitted that he had been too busy with work for the past 30 years. But when his wife was diagnosed with an incurable disease, their lives changed. They began traveling to as many places as possible in her final days. Miami was their latest stop, as she had always wanted to see the beaches there. He added, “Humans are selfish. Young people should live their lives because eventually, you will pay the price.” His words were heavy with regret. As we parted, I wished them well and prayed that Mahadev would take care of them. As I lay in bed, I couldn’t shake the thought of what life truly means at its best. We work tirelessly to earn money, yet we often neglect to spend it on the things that truly matter—quality sleep, exercise, and meaningful experiences. It’s only when faced with an incurable disease that we realize just how beautiful life can be.
I decided to visit McCarthy’s Wildlife Sanctuary, a place known for housing some of the most endangered species, a true lair for animals. I joined a small group to immerse myself in nature and witness some of the rarest animals on the planet. Although it was an 80 km journey, it turned out to be incredibly fun. I found myself among six strangers, all from different countries, and two of them were wildlife photographers. This sparked an intriguing discussion about wildlife. They shared fascinating insights about the forest and how it operates. One of them recounted how they had waited 36 hours to capture a photo of a lioness with her cubs, a shot that ultimately won them an award. This was a completely new world for me. For the first time, I saw a white tiger and black leopards—truly remarkable and some of the best sights I’ve experienced in months. These creatures were so captivating that it was impossible to take your eyes off them. Some of my co-travelers took photographs, and we all said our goodbyes. On the way back to my hotel, I couldn’t stop thinking about how challenging life must be for these wildlife photographers, who sometimes wait 36 hours just to capture a single photo. Stay tuned for my upcoming blog, where I’ll be sharing an interview with these two amazing wildlife photographers.
I was searching for compelling stories in Miami for my blog. I decided to interview Suzan, a tech giant who had worked with some of the biggest startups. As I scrolled through her profile, she seemed infallible to me. Suzan was originally from Mexico, and her story was incredibly interesting. She had come to the USA as an illegal immigrant with two children. Starting as a laborer, she eventually began selling pickles while learning programming part-time. Over the last 25 years, she had become an inspiration to many. During our interview, I asked her about the key to her success and what had enabled her to work with such giants in the tech industry. She shared numerous tips for young people, which I will share in my upcoming blogs. One thing she emphasized was that no one is infallible. “You have to make mistakes,” she said, “and then you need to correct them.” As I returned to my hotel, I found myself reflecting on why we’re so afraid of making mistakes and why we often avoid learning from the process. Suzan’s story shifted my perspective on perfectionism. You can achieve greatness in any field if you’re willing to try and not give up. Her interview truly challenged my views on what it means to be perfect.
while seeking compelling stories for my blogs in Miami, I decided to meet a philanthropist who was at the top of the hierarchy in his army unit. He was governed by a lifelong commitment to giving. During our conversation, he shared how a monk from Tibet transformed his perspective on material possessions, leading him to embrace an immaterial lifestyle. He revealed some hidden truths about the forces he encountered, which forced him to live in a lair for weeks to protect himself. In the armed forces, he had believed himself to be infallible , but meeting the monk profoundly changed his outlook on life. He also recounted that his guru chose euthanasia after completing the cycle of life. His guru imparted numerous life lessons, encouraging him to live both in Tibet and Miami for several months. Through these experiences, he discovered the true meaning of life. Additionally, he mentioned his involvement in various operations across different countries to perform specific tasks, but the encounter with the monk altered everything for him. As I returned to the hotel, I reflected on how spirituality is incredibly powerful in changing one’s mindset, thoughts, and understanding of life’s meaning. This man, who had dedicated everything to his country, decided to follow the path of spirituality, which gave him a new mission in life. It was a wonderful and inspiring meeting.
I attended the Effective Altruism Miami conference, seeking inspiring stories for my blog. Surrounded by young people, mostly between 20 and 30 years old, I was struck by their dedication to altruism. One remarkable individual, a 19-year-old woman, stood out. She had founded a business to raise $1 million for Ukrainian victims who lost their homes. I asked her what drove her selflessness, especially at such a young age. Her response was profound: ‘You can’t sleep at night knowing someone has lost their home, father, and food. As a human, you must act.’ Her words taught me a valuable lesson about the power of altruism. As I left the conference, I realized that these young individuals’ unwavering commitment to donating their time and resources, without hesitation or expectation of reward, is what makes the USA great. Their selflessness is a testament to the transformative impact of altruism, where making a difference in others’ lives takes precedence over personal gain.
I decided to visit the Miami’s beach in search of compelling stories for my blog. While there, I bought some drinks and food from an older bar owner, an Egyptian man with a story that stood out that immediately intrigued me and led to a deeper discussion. He had lost his wife in a tragedy and received a significant amount of indemnity as compensation. His story was intriguing, much like many of ours, but with an extra layer of depth. At the age of 55, he chose to start a new chapter in life, leaving everything behind to chase his dreams in the USA. I asked him if he ever regretted living alone and missing out on family life. His answer was firm—no regrets. He was grateful for the chance to start over with the energy and financial security the indemnity provided. He met a new partner, and together, they planned to travel the world. He had recently bought a motorhome, and his list of adventures was long and filled with excitement. Yet, despite all the new beginnings, he admitted that losing his wife was the greatest disaster of his life—one that no amount of indemnity could ever truly compensate for. As I walked away from the beach, I couldn’t help but reflect on the layers of drama that life unfolds. Here was a man who, on the surface, appeared to be living his dream, yet beneath it all was the undeniable void left by his wife’s absence. It made me think—perhaps chasing dreams is just a way of filling gaps, convincing ourselves that we’re happy, even when the most profound losses remain.
I decided to visit Ohio in search of compelling stories for my blog. While waiting at Miami’s airport to board my flight, a child kept beaming at me. I smiled back and soon started playing with him. His parents, both very relaxed, watched on. They told me they are doctors, and they were on vacation, heading to New York to continue their travels. I asked the boy what games he liked to play in his country. He eagerly shared all sorts of things, some of which reminded me of my own childhood. His parents beamed at him but then mentioned, with a hint of tension, that he spends all his time playing and doesn’t care about his studies. His little sister chimed in, saying he plays all day without her. The boy looked like he was about to cry, so I reassured him, Don’t worry, you’ll play football for your country one day, and gave both of them a chocolate. He hugged me, and his sister sweetly said, “Thank you, uncle.” Then, an announcement came for my boarding. I said goodbye to them and beamed at the family one last time. As I boarded the plane, I started to ponder. Here were parents, both doctors on holiday, yet they were already worried about the future of their six-year-old boy, who had just started primary school. Why are we so ruthless with our children’s futures? Why, especially in Asian cultures, do parents feel such insecurity about jobs and proving themselves to others, even when their children are so young?
Fetching…
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I was browsing the internet in search of interesting places and compelling stories for my blog when I received a video call from one of my old classmates. There was a sense of curiosity in me to know everything about our teachers and former classmates. This led to a deep conversation about our school days and much more. He told me about one of our teachers, who was also the principal of our school, whose economic condition had worsened. My classmate was filled with wrath over the callous way the teacher had been treated by life, particularly because the teacher had initially refused to take on any paid tuition after school. I recalled an incident where a student had asked him for private tuition, but he refused, beamed at the student, and said, “I will give you extra classes, and you don’t need to pay anything.” Despite his own challenges, this teacher displayed so much altruism, knowing full well that he wouldn’t receive any indemnity for the time he dedicated to helping others. He achieved a 100% literacy rate in the nearby villages, where the literacy rate for girls was initially less than 9%. Hearing this aforesaid story reminded me of the invaluable contributions he made to my own career, and it inspired me to think about how I could give back. After the call ended, I was left pondering how this man had shown such altruism without any indemnity, smiling with a beam on his face and never showing any wrath toward society for failing to reward his efforts. It made me realize how some people, despite being labeled as callous by others, continue to give selflessly. I couldn’t help but think that, in failing to prioritize and support such individuals, society is punishing those who work altruistically, often at the expense of their own family’s well-being.
I was heading to meet a friend in search of compelling stories for my blog. I had met him earlier at an AI conference at Georgia Tech University, and he had invited me to Ohio for a get-together with his family. During our conversation, he mentioned that he was planning to apply for another master’s degree, this time in medicine, at one of the top universities listed by Reuters in Ohio. I assumed the process would take a day or two, as we’re accustomed to delays in India, but to my surprise, his admission process was seamlessly completed in just two hours—he even secured an education loan in the same time. He told me that he already had two master’s degrees—one in economics and another in medicine. When I asked why he wanted to pursue yet another degree, he explained that education is a lifelong process. “You can’t stop learning,” he said. “It’s not just about the degree; it’s about gaining a new perspective and seeing things in a more conclusive way.” This sparked a deeper conversation about the differences between the education systems in India and the USA. While I won’t declare a clear winner, it was evident that India has a lot to learn from the USA, especially in terms of how much they have invested in education. As I made my way back, I couldn’t help but ponder how the USA has developed a culture of continuous learning, where even business leaders proudly say they’ve read hundreds of self-help books that have shaped their perspectives. In contrast, in India, we sometimes debate whether learning is even important. For countries grappling with poverty and other challenges, focusing on the education system could be the key to bringing about real change.
I was searching for compelling stories for my blog when I got invited to an earthen toy fair in Ohio. The toys were crafted by hand from mud and sand, with no artificial colors or plastics allowed. I attended with one of my friends, who is part of the organizing team for this fair, which aims to enlighten the world about the importance of respecting Mother Earth. I was quite excited, as I hadn’t seen earthen toys in my own region for decades. I had vague childhood memories of them, but I was truly surprised to find that it wasn’t just toys—there were a lot of earthen home decor items as well. Some of the traders were from India, and I asked them how the response had been. They were quite pleased, as their products were receiving a great deal of attention. It was thrilling for me to see such amazing innovations. One of the most eye-catching products was a water purifier, and there was even a machine to test the purity of the water. The fair truly enlightened me about organic products, emphasizing how specific and important these innovations can be. I ended up buying a toy for my friend’s children. On the way back, I found myself reflecting on how these developments have immense potential to revive earthen products. Given the damage we’ve already done to Mother Earth’s resources, now is the right time to give back and embrace sustainable practices.
I was browsing the internet, searching for compelling stories for my blog, when I came across how social media is shaping the upcoming referendum in Ohio. Curious, I signed up for a conference on the topic. When I arrived, discussions were already underway with major social media platforms like Facebook, TikTok, and others. A senator was seamlessly grilling the CEOs, accusing them of derogating the integrity of elections in the U.S. by influencing the outcome of the referendum to suit their platforms’ interests.
The senator raised concerns about how they allocate exposure to political parties, suggesting they favored those aligned with their agendas. In defense, a social media strategist emphasized their commitment to user privacy and mentioned their sponsorship of the earthen product fair in Ohio, highlighting their community engagement efforts. The back-and-forth was conducted seamlessly, and I was enlightened by how deeply social media is involved in these processes, learning things that are usually hidden from the public eye. One of the CEOs suggested including public representatives in the policy-drafting process for future elections. Though the senator initially showed accismus, he eventually agreed.
The six-hour discussion covered various aspects of the upcoming election. As I left, I reflected on how developed nations have the capability to shape global policies, yet focus solely on their own interests. It made me wonder why such countries aren’t more concerned with issues in Asia or other regions, and why more global effort isn’t made to protect the world’s privacy. There’s so much countries in Asia can learn from this process.
I was invited to my friend’s brother’s engagement party, hoping to gather compelling stories for my blog. I had known him since college because of my friend, and he was always the one who believed in setting feasible goals—not overly ambitious, but practical. While most of our peers were preparing for the IIT entrance exams, he made the decision to focus on the state entrance exam in Madhya Pradesh. Despite an unfortunate accident that debarred him from attending the entrance examination that year, he persevered and secured a spot at one of the best colleges in the state. His hard work paid off, and everything in his life seemed to unfold in a feasible and manageable way. My friend Kartik, though more academically sharp and intelligent, was the first to land in the USA despite both of them being mechanical engineering graduates. While everyone else was focused on moving to the USA, he opted to work for a German company instead, and his ability to make things seem so feasible left an impression. It felt like he made everything look easy, as if anyone could follow the same path. During the party, I had a few minutes to chat with him. He recommended several books that had helped him achieve his goals, each revolving around the concept of feasibility in project management and life planning. I was truly impressed by his depth of knowledge on a variety of topics. As I said goodbye and wished him well for this new chapter of his life, I couldn’t help but feel inspired. On my way back to the hotel, I kept reflecting on his journey—a boy from a small town who overcame setbacks, made everything look so feasible, and never succumbed to stress. Now, he runs a successful business in the USA, while many others complicate their paths unnecessarily. His story made me think deeply about life—how some people, by focusing on what is truly feasible, avoid making things harder than they need to be, while others struggle by creating obstacles for themselves.
I decided to visit Hocking Hills State Park to looking for compelling stories for my blogs with a travel group I met in Florida. During the trip, one of the travelers joked, “You come from a country known for snakes—did you bring one to worship your God?” I shot back with a reposte, saying, “No, but my God has saved us from venomous people like you plenty of times!” The comeback was so funny that one of the travelers nearly fell over from laughing, and someone added, “Indians sure have a sharp sense of humor!” The park was absolutely stunning, with beautiful trails, Ash Cave, and the incredible Cedar Falls. It was a remarkable experience with this group, and we all decided to camp under the stars. One of the group members brought a guitar, and we shared food, making the night unforgettable. The entire evening was filled with jokes and reposte, making it one of the most memorable experiences of my trip so far. The next morning, I said my goodbyes and returned to the hotel to pack for my next destination. This whole adventure reminded me of childhood picnics, where we cooked food in the wilderness or near dams. These memories are truly priceless.
I found myself sitting in an airport, waiting to catch my next flight, hoping to discover new stories for my blog. As I sat there, I noticed a couple that I had seen in Canada last year. They lived in a subsistence lifestyle, yet they traveled extensively. Intrigued, I struck up a conversation, asking, “Are you headed somewhere else?” They smiled warmly and replied, “Yes, we’re going to the Dominican Republic. It will be our 73rd country.” I was stunned. How could a family, living in what many would consider a bare-bones situation, manage to travel so widely? No house, no cars, no typical trappings of security. This led to a deeper conversation. They explained that for them, life was about experiencing new cultures, exploring the unseen, and making connections with people around the world. “A human can do so much more than accumulate things,” they said. “Travel is about creating lasting friendships, like the one we’re forming with you now.” Their perspective struck me deeply, and I couldn’t help but smile in agreement. Despite their humble means, the couple radiated positivity. I asked, “You don’t own a house or car?” They answered with a quiet, serene “Nope.” Their simplicity was profound, and it made me smile again, admiring their straightforward outlook on life. Soon, the announcement for boarding came, and we said our goodbyes. I handed them a coin with Mahadev’s symbol on it, saying, “He will protect you in any adversity.” They accepted it with gratitude, and we parted ways. As I boarded my flight, I silently thanked the universe for the gift of subsistence. It made me realize how freeing it is to have just enough—not too much, not too little—and how that can open the door to life’s greatest experiences. subsistence isn’t a limitation; it’s a choice to focus on what truly matters, and it allows us to explore the richness of life beyond material possessions.
I met Christopher, a 75-year-old man who leads a group of bikers on excursion’s. Intrigued, I joined them, renting a bike for an excursion around Ohio City. Out of curiosity, I asked him how long he’d been riding. Without hesitation, he replied, “Eight years.” His answer surprised me—he had started at 63! Amazed, I asked why he had begun so late in life. He explained that, earlier, his focus was on family and work. But once he and his wife decided to pursue their dreams, she opened a café that now serves the best Italian breakfast in the city, while he took up biking. During the excursion, Christopher shared so many life lessons. The ride itself was exhilarating, offering me a sense of peace and reflection that I can’t fully put into words. When it ended, I said goodbye to everyone, but Christopher invited me for breakfast the next morning. As a gesture of gratitude, I gave him a Mahadev coin, wishing him blessings for life’s challenges. While riding back from the excursion, my thoughts wandered. It struck me deeply that it’s never too late to start something new. You can always pursue your passion, no matter your age or circumstances. There should be no regrets about not chasing your dreams when the opportunity arises. Christopher taught me that life is truly beautiful—you just have to be grateful for what you have and make the most of it.
I found myself in Ohio, delving into the city’s history in search of compelling stories for my blog. One evening, following a hotel staff member’s recommendation, I visited an Italian restaurant to try their pizza. It was serendipity that brought a smile to my face when I met Christopher, whose wife happened to own the restaurant. This chance encounter felt like a perfect twist of fate. Christopher warmly introduced me to his wife, who, as it turned out, hails from a land of rich traditions. While enjoying our meal, we engaged in a meaningful conversation about life, education, and opportunities. She shared that in America, as you age, medical expenses become less of a worry, with government subsidies offering some relief. We touched on the topic of entrepreneurship, and she explained how certain initiatives make starting a business more accessible. Curious, I asked if she ever felt she was late in starting her restaurant. Her response was profound. She said, “If I had started earlier, I might have become a billionaire, but I may not have had a family or the life experiences that shaped me. Would I have been happy? The answer is no. I’m not late—this was the right time for me. I researched, prepared, and when I was ready, I began.” It was a wonderful and insightful meeting. As we parted ways, I gifted them a coin of Goddess Lakshmi, telling them it would bring prosperity into their lives. Walking back to my hotel, I reflected on the depth of their understanding—how they had lived a beautiful life and were now embarking on a new journey without regret. Their resilience and motivation to live life to the fullest left me wondering: Will I ever find such clarity in my own life? If so, what must I learn to get there?
I took a short break. I hadn’t traveled for a few days because I was exhausted, feeling a wave of depression, and decided to stay at a hotel. But I knew I needed to get back to my purpose, so I arranged to meet Mrs. Sudhakar—a 55-year-old entrepreneur from Ohio who piqued my interest. She had sleek, green hair that made her stand out, yet she carried herself with an elegance that was impossible to ignore. When we met, I asked her what business she was in. She smiled and said, “I’m in the mining business—different kinds of mines.” This intrigued me, so I asked, “Mining isn’t an industry you usually associate with women. What’s your take on that?” She paused, then replied, “It’s all about mindset and taking the opportunity to excel. I was the only woman in my college who chose mining as a major. But does that mean I should have given up on my dream just because I was the only one? Imagine only a few students making it to Mars or the Moon—would that stop you from dreaming of going there?” Her words struck a chord with me. I was genuinely impressed by her determination and outlook. Mrs. Sudhakar shared countless stories and valuable insights for the younger generation, which I plan to share in future blog posts. As I returned to my hotel, my head full of these amazing stories, I couldn’t help but reflect. In many parts of Asia, stereotypes still dictate how professionals, especially women, should dress and present themselves in corporate settings. Yet here was a woman with sleek green hair, confidently choosing to wear whatever she liked without a second thought. It was a refreshing reminder of how individuality can flourish when societal norms are challenged.
I received a notification about a protest against America’s funding of Israel in the ongoing war. Given that I had previously been summoned by the cops, I decided not to attend. Instead, I sent a message to one of the coordinators who was organizing the protest in Ohio. I asked him about the purpose of the event, and he vented his frustrations about the government’s actions, expressing both support and criticism. When I asked if the government would interfere in such a protest, he confidently responded, “Of course, yes, but that doesn’t mean we won’t criticize the government. America has the advantage that our forefathers secured our right to freely express strong opinions, whether they are about good or bad deeds by the government. So, don’t worry about whether it’s right or wrong.” His words surprised me. In Asia, people may have the liberty to discuss, but institutions often avoid such open critique. He then shared some tips and book recommendations, and asked me which freedom fighter I admired from India. Without hesitation, he said he admired Gandhi for his ability to challenge a massive system without risking lives. His words left me in deep reflection. I wished him well for his event, but as I sat writing on my laptop, I couldn’t stop pondering how institutions in the USA allow people to express diverse perspectives without bias, unlike many other places that may lean towards one-sided views. It was yet another reason that added to my growing admiration for the USA as a nation.
I visited a cave in Ohio in search of compelling stories for my blog. The cave was filled with intricately carved statues, so masterfully done that it was hard to imagine such precision could be achieved by hand, without any machines. What amazed me even more was the fact that these carvings were over 1,000 years old. While there, I met a fellow traveler from Bangladesh, Shahbaz Alam, who was accompanying his partner, an archaeologist from Dhaka University. Shahbaz was well-educated and shared a wealth of knowledge about the cave’s deep history, leaving me in awe. Out of curiosity, I asked him about places he had visited in India that stood out to him. He mentioned the Kailasa Temple in Ellora, dedicated to Lord Shiva, which is carved from a mountain and is over 1,800 years old. He described how astonishing it was, a marvel of ancient craftsmanship. I spent six hours with Shahbaz and his family, learning about the cave and their research. Before parting ways, I wished him great success in his future endeavors and gave him a coin bearing the image of Maa Lakshmi, saying that she would protect his wealth. As I sit here writing this on my laptop, I can’t help but reflect on the beauty of these ancient caves. Human creativity has been evident throughout history, reflected in so much art and craftsmanship. Some people today worry that AI might take over jobs, but I wonder—what about creativity? Can AI truly replicate the depth of human imagination and artistic expression?
I want to apologize for the silence over the past week; I was immersed in festival celebrations. As part of my ongoing quest for compelling stories for my blog, I attended a Durga Puja event near the Houston Durga Bari, invited by a friend (American Bengali) who has been living in California for the past decade. I profoundly accepted the invitation, eager to seek blessings from Maa Durga and immerse myself in a different cultural experience. The sight of the beautifully crafted idol of the goddess, surrounded by devotees from diverse backgrounds, including a few foreigners, left me in profound awe. I had a remarkable conversation with a priest from Mexico, a completely new and enriching experience for me. My curiosity led me to ask the co-organizers about the challenges of preserving cultural heritage in foreign lands. One of them shared a heartfelt response, acknowledging the difficulty. He mentioned how his child, though visiting India a few times, may not fully embrace the values he strives to pass on. Living in the USA for a lifetime, there is bound to be some dilution. However, that doesn’t deter him from sharing the cultural richness that profoundly connects him to his roots and makes him proud. As I left the Durga Mandap, I found myself reflecting on my own memories of this festival. A thought crossed my mind—rather than fearing the loss of our culture, perhaps the focus should be on profoundly teaching the next generation how to celebrate and share our festivals and values, ensuring they remain alive and vibrant in any land.
I found myself immersed in the vibrant atmosphere of Maa Durga’s Visharjan in Ohio. The crowd was electric, and amidst the celebration, I encountered a woman named Diksha Chakraborty, who had worked at LinkedIn for six years. As she participated in the rituals, tears streamed down her face. Diksha shared her story of hardship during her BTech years, marked by trauma and financial struggles. She had to sell household items and endured a two-year wait before landing a job. During that dark period, Maa Durga emerged as a source of strength for her, a power she had once dismissed as an atheist. “How can anyone deny such a force that governs the universe?” she asked, her conviction palpable. Her insights into the festival felt like knowledge emerging directly from Maa Durga herself. As I returned to my hotel, I reflected on how belief in the divine can transform lives. Meeting both tribals and urban dwellers, I witnessed how faith in a higher power has reshaped their destinies. This festival challenged my own views on God and atheism, prompting me to reconsider the influence of the supreme power that governs our existence.
I continued seeking compelling stories for my blog. I had recently met an entrepreneur at a trade fair showcasing soil-based products, and I invited him to a conversation. To my surprise, he extended an invitation to a party at his house. When I arrived, everything seemed perfect—a well-organized event with a cozy ambiance. What caught my attention most, however, was his kitchen and patio . There was not a single piece of steel or machine in sight. On the patio , he was roasting food using earthen products—no modern appliances, no gleaming metal, just simple, traditional tools. Fascinated by this approach, I asked why he avoided machines or steel in his kitchen. His response was both jarring and thought-provoking: “Suppose you knew you’d die tomorrow, would you willingly eat poison today?” He explained that extensive research has shown how unhealthy modern kitchen tools and machinery can be. “Steel and other metals are harmful to health,” he added. I countered that this was still a debatable topic, but he smirked and said, “Don’t worry, once our country makes billions off this stuff, they’ll spend millions proving the health risks.” His sarcasm hit me hard. Some of these earthen products reminded me of my childhood, when everything felt pure, untouched by machines. Now, it feels as though technology has been planted in our lives not just to help but to rob us of taste and happiness. As I left his home, I reflected on the experience. It struck me that there are alternatives to the modern conveniences we so eagerly embrace. Yet, in our haste to adopt everything developed countries offer, we forget the essence of simplicity and health. Nowadays, even doctors are advising patients to engage more in household work—perhaps a subtle nod to the wisdom of tradition that we are rushing to abandon.
I received an invitation to a tech fest in Virginia. While attending the event, I met a young entrepreneur who had created a successful business making agarbattis (incense sticks). She invited me to visit her operation, and eager to gather more stories for my blog, I accepted. When I arrived, I was amazed. The fragrance of different flowers filled the air, and I was even more astonished to learn that this business had started in a garage with just 15 workers. Now, she had expanded to a larger facility, employing over 200 people. It was a tremendous experience for me, as I had only ever heard about businesses starting in garages in movies or web series. As our conversation began, I asked her how she started this journey. She shared a fascinating story: her neighbors were a Pakistani family who worshipped Lord Shiva and performed rituals involving agarbatti. However, they couldn’t find the same fragrances in the U.S. that they were familiar with in Pakistan. One day, while sitting on her patio , surrounded by blooming flowers, she was struck by the soothing scent in the air. The fragrance brought her such profound relaxation that an idea emerged —why not solve her neighbors’ problem by creating those same scents? In a brisk moment of inspiration, she decided to act on it. She started making incense sticks, first giving samples to her neighbors, who appreciated the familiar aroma. Their profound acceptance of her product encouraged her to pursue the business more seriously. She even faced challenges along the way—once, she was detained by the police for using fire elements in her production. But local authorities, recognizing her potential, supported her endeavor, especially since she was so young. I asked her if it had been easy to start the business. She admitted, “Maybe not. I knew there were more opportunities for starting a business in the USA, especially for women, but even here, space is still limited. Maybe it will take another generation’s sacrifice.” At this point, her voice cracked, and tears welled up in her eyes. I reassured her, saying, “Don’t worry. You already have a successful business, and your story will inspire countless women.” I gave her a coin with Mahadev’s image and said, “He will help you overcome any difficulties.” On my way back to the hotel, I couldn’t stop thinking about how this young woman started with the intention of solving a small problem and ended up creating a million-dollar business, all while inspiring thousands of women along the way. This meeting has become one of the best interviews in my diary.
I arrived in Virginia, as I mentioned in my last blog. A friend invited me to a nearby supermarket to look for a cozy quilt for winter, and I happily accepted. When I entered, I found plenty of cozy blankets, but I was disturbed to see that many were made of duck feathers. Curious, I asked my friend if this was common in the USA. He confirmed it, explaining that such items are considered exclusive and expensive, sharing his insights from working in the industry. He also mentioned that people buy products made from snake skin. This sparked a deeper conversation: while the USA defends human rights, what about animal rights? My friend explained that there are government bodies that monitor cruelty to animals. As I walked back to his house, I couldn’t help but reflect on the cost of exclusivity and the ethical implications of using animal products. It raised troubling questions: Does any intelligent species have the right to exploit and destroy others? What are the boundaries of our actions in pursuit of luxury?
I visited a space museum to gather stories for my blog. There, I met Indian astronaut Tarana Parvin, who was with her parents. I asked her how the USA won the space race, and she highlighted the importance of the Kennedy administration’s investment in space missions. I wondered if that money could have been better spent on infrastructure like roads and malls. She explained that the benefits of space exploration extended beyond that, impacting defense and technology—pointing out how companies like Uber and Google depend on satellite data. When I asked what inspired her to pursue a career in space, she mentioned Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam, India’s “Rocket Man,” and shared how her parents sacrificed to help her succeed in the USA. As I returned to my hotel, I realized how crucial visionary leadership is for a nation’s progress. It became clear that a strong regime is essential for fostering innovation and growth.
I started feeling a bit sensitive in my teeth. I decided to visit a nearby supermarket to buy toothpaste and some medicine, but they refused to sell it without a prescription. I pleaded with them, but they wouldn’t budge. So, I went to a dental clinic for a check-up, where I met Dr. Patrick, who was originally from Sri Lanka. I jokingly asked her why “ quacks “ aren’t allowed in the USA, noting that they often have more hands-on experience than some doctors. She responded with a laugh, explaining that human life is precious, and the system aims to protect people from harm, humorously suggesting that quacks might be sent by aliens to wreak havoc. Curious about her journey, I asked how she came to the USA. She shared that her father was a quack in a remote area of Sri Lanka. After facing arrest and disrespect from the community, he decided to support her education to help her become a doctor. She admitted that she hadn’t been the best student, but one significant incident changed everything. Her father sold their land to send her to the USA, and she eventually graduated from the University of Virginia School of Medicine with a gold medal. Now, she said proudly, she has built a house for her parents, who have also moved to the USA. She invited me over for a Sri Lankan dinner, and I jokingly replied that I’d rather she fix my tooth quickly so I could join her for dinner. We both laughed, and as I was leaving, I gave her a coin of Maa Saraswati, wishing her strength and empowerment in her journey. On my way back to the hotel, I reflected on the incredible capabilities of women like Dr. Patrick to change the world. It struck me how crucial parental support can be—her father’s decision to help her become a doctor transformed her life. This experience reinforced my belief that even unconventional paths, like those of quacks, can lead to remarkable change when paired with determination and support.
I was feeling a bit lazy and tired, unsure of why I couldn’t get myself to do anything. Initially, I thought it was just procrastination , but then a friend suggested I visit a nutritionist for a check-up. They pointed out that it could be related to a lack of proper nutrition and vitamins in my body. Though the USA can be expensive, one of my contacts helped me find an affordable option, and I went ahead with the visit. The nutritionist prescribed some medications and nutritional food. I asked her why, since I felt fit and energetic. She explained that sometimes, while our minds feel fresh and motivated, our bodies may not be in the best shape to keep up. She shared with me that in many Asian cultures, people often overlook their health, mistaking physical fatigue for simple procrastination, when in fact it’s often caused by a deficiency in essential nutrients that they forget to include in their daily routines. As a gesture of gratitude, I gave her a coin of Maa Lakshmi, saying that just as she protects our health, she will protect your wealth and prosperity. I thanked her and left the clinic. On my way back, I couldn’t help but reflect on how often we neglect our health, blaming procrastination when, in reality, it’s often the body’s needs going unmet. Our minds are eager to get things done, but without a well-maintained “machine” to support us, our efforts fall short. I’ve read countless books and articles, but I never truly took my health seriously until today. I realized that health is our most valuable asset—our body’s engine that powers us to achieve and be productive. Procrastination might seem like the problem, but in many cases, it’s a sign that our bodies need care, and that taking care of ourselves is key to overcoming it.
I ventured to the outskirts of Virginia, seeking compelling stories for my blog. There, I met a remarkable woman—beautiful, poised, and wearing a veil to cover her head. She was the manager of a hotel in this quiet, remote area. As our conversation unfolded, I learned she had spent several years working in southern India before moving to the USA, where she had been involved in developing a chain of hotels for the past ten years. Her journey was fascinating. Out of curiosity, I asked her why she had left the bustling cities of New York and California for this more tranquil, off-the-beaten-path location. I got bored and tired of city life,” she explained. “While traveling through India and other countries, I noticed a shift in people’s desires. Many were seeking peace and relaxation, away from the noise and rush of urban living. It gave me the idea to start something that would address this need while also offering a great business opportunity. She told me that she had launched a website focused on understanding the needs of young people. She had gathered data showing that while the youth were often forced to live in cities for work, they longed for something different—a break from the relentless pace and stress. This led her to create a business offering peaceful retreats, with facilities for massages and spiritual well-being. The idea was simple: give young people an opportunity to reconnect with themselves, offering them a few days of rest and relaxation each year. They could subscribe to a plan that allowed them to escape to these serene locations. It’s a growing trend, she said, especially as anxiety and depression rise among the younger generation. Our retreats are designed to offer a holistic remedy. We’ve even started collaborating with companies to offer this as a wellness benefit to their employees. Her insights were profound, and as she shared more about her business and the transformative power of travel, it completely shifted my perspective. I felt grateful for our conversation. Before I left, I gave her a coin with the symbol of Mahadev and told her, May He guide you and help you overcome any challenges. He is the protector of the universe. As I made my way back from the camp, I reflected on the incredible story of how this woman had found a business idea while traveling through the remote areas of India. She had not only created a multi-million-dollar business, but also solved a crucial problem: helping young people combat anxiety and depression through peace, relaxation, and self-care. It was a powerful reminder of how many opportunities we miss when we don’t take the time to travel, explore, and invest in our personal growth.
I found myself in Virginia, spending the past few days searching for compelling stories for my blog. I had been reaching out to people, asking for interesting narratives to share. Then, I received a call from a friend who connected me with someone involved in the underworld—specifically in extortion and violent crime. At first, I was skeptical, given the nature of the world they inhabited, but curiosity got the best of me. We scheduled an interview via Google Meet. My first question was direct: “Why did you get involved in extortion and killing people?” He paused and replied, “Nobody starts with extortion and murder. It begins with small crimes, a step at a time.” He went on to share a lot of personal insight into the world of crime, which I’ll be including in my upcoming blog posts. As our conversation deepened, I asked him what he had lost along the way. He responded with a chilling calmness, “I lost two brothers and a sister in encounters in the ’90s, and both my parents died of heart attacks, mourning their children in India.” The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. I then asked how he ended up in the USA, and he shared an unexpected twist: “A jailor once motivated me to study and change my life. I pursued education, eventually earning a PhD in Chemical Sciences. Now, I’ve been working as a nuclear scientist in the USA for the past 15 years.” Despite his violent past, he had found a way to turn his life around. He mentioned the many hurdles he faced, due to his criminal history, but credited the guidance of Bajrangbali (a Hindu deity) for helping him overcome the challenges. Before we ended the call, I promised him to giving him a coin of Lord Mahadev, wishing him continued prosperity and strength as he walked his new path. I told him that he was on the right track and bade him farewell. After disconnecting, I sat back and reflected on his story. It was a stark reminder of how crime destroys not only the lives of those directly involved but also the families and communities affected by it. His story also showed the power of transformation—a reminder that life can change drastically if one is willing to take the right steps, no matter how steep the path may seem. I realized today that we all have the potential to change the world around us—we just need the right guidance and the right mindset to make it happen.
I was sitting at Virginia Airport, waiting for my flight. As I looked around, I noticed a young woman sitting nearby. I decided to strike up a conversation, offering her some Indian cookies as an icebreaker. She introduced herself as Sarita Paswan from Bangladesh. I was intrigued, and we quickly began conservation, When I asked her what brought her to the U.S., she explained that she was attending a conference in seattle on women’s prosperity and safety. Curious about her work, I asked, “What have you noticed in your years of working with women in different regions of Bangladesh?” Without hesitation, she answered, “The hegemony of strong people.” Sarita went on to explain how power dynamics play out across different societies. She explained that in the Middle East and Asia, religion often dictates these power imbalances; in India, it’s caste; and in the United States, it manifests in racism and colorism. According to her, the common thread across these regions is how the more powerful groups—the “strong people”—treat those who are less powerful, often in deeply unjust ways. She shared with me many stories, and I plan to feature some of them in my upcoming blogs. But one of the things that struck me most was when she said, “I’ve worked with over 36,000 women in Bangladesh, but never did I imagine that women in the USA would face similar struggles in many places.” This broke the myth I had about women’s rights in the Western world. Despite all the opportunities here, the situation for women, especially those from marginalized backgrounds, was strikingly similar to what she had seen in Bangladesh. It was eye-opening and humbling. I asked Sarita about men and children, and she agreed that they too face struggles, but her focus had always been on women. “God has chosen me to work with women,” she said simply. It was clear that her mission in life was deeply rooted in a calling to support and empower women, even when the world around her seemed stacked against them. As we continued our conversation, Sarita shared numerous insights into the politics of Bangladesh and the obstacles she faced in her work. Despite the challenging circumstances, she remained committed to uplifting women. When the boarding announcement came, I said goodbye to her, handing her a small coin depicting Maa Durga, the Hindu goddess of strength. I told her, “This coin will help you overcome any difficulties. Maa Durga is the goddess of Shakti, of power.” As I boarded my flight, I couldn’t stop thinking about Sarita and the impact she was having on the lives of thousands of women in Bangladesh. At such a young age, she had already changed so many lives. She could have chosen to be a doctor, an engineer, or a professional in any other field, but she chose to dedicate her life to the service of women. Her decision to work on behalf of the most vulnerable had, in turn, shaped her own destiny. Her story reminded me of the critical importance of hegemony—the way power dynamics shape the lives of the less powerful. Sarita’s life and work serve as a testament to the fact that, while the forces of hegemony may be vast and complex, there are people like Sarita who refuse to accept the status quo and are committed to challenging it. She left me deeply inspired.
a friend invited me for coffee, and I went, hoping to find some compelling stories for my blog. While waiting for my friend, I noticed a couple yelling at the waiter, who calmly accepted their complaints. The manager then introduced the waiter as a Harvard graduate, which considerably piqued my interest. The contrast between his prestigious degree and his role in a small cafe made me curious about his story. I asked the manager if I could speak with the waiter, and the manager kindly agreed to let me interview him. The waiter, Robert, explained that despite holding a degree from such a renowned university, he chose to work in a small cafe because he wanted to understand how these businesses operate. He was particularly fascinated by the loyalty of customers, who, despite being offered numerous promotions, continued to frequent the same place. He saw this as part of a case study for his work with larger companies. I asked him what he had learned from this experience. Robert shared that breaking the loyalty of customers was nearly impossible, especially since tastes differ from region to region. For example, customers in Texas have different preferences from those in New York, and large chains cannot easily modify their offerings to cater to local tastes. This was an insight that considerably changed my perspective on the dynamics of small businesses. Before I left, I gave Robert a coin with the image of Goddess Saraswati, the goddess of knowledge, and told him that she had helped him in his academic journey and would continue to guide him through life’s challenges. As I walked back to my hotel, I reflected on how unusual it is to find someone with such a prestigious education working in a small cafe. The consistency and customer loyalty these cafes maintain year after year are qualities that considerably set them apart from larger chains. This experience reminded me that valuable lessons often come from observing the uncelebrated, everyday aspects of life.
I was flying to Seattle to find compelling stories for my blog. As I sat on the plane, a book caught my attention, titled The Extra Miracle of Life. Curious, I asked the woman sitting next to me about it. She explained that the book was about how small things have the power to bring about significant change in life. I asked if it was available in bookstores, and she replied that it was a sample copy and would be released in a few months. I smiled and asked if she worked in a publishing agency. She responded, “No, I’m a writer.” Then, with a smile, she asked, “Have you heard of Elif Shafak?” I was stunned. Yes, I had! And here she was, sitting next to me. I realized that I was conversing with an incredible author who had written multiple beautiful novels. I asked her how she wrote, and she said, “It’s all about thoughts, experiences, and beliefs—the things you want to share with your readers.” I then confided in her about my own conundrum with writing, asking what I should do. She advised, “Don’t write to please anyone.” Before parting ways, I gave her a coin of Maa Saraswati, the goddess of knowledge, wishing her well on her journey. As I made my way to the hotel in a cab, I couldn’t help but reflect on the conundrum of life itself—how small, seemingly inconsequential encounters can lead to profound revelations. If I hadn’t struck up that conversation, I would never have known that I was sitting next to Elif Shafak. While waiting for my cab, I was pondering that this experience made me realize that sometimes, the biggest mysteries and wonders in life arise from the simplest exchanges. It’s a reminder that we shouldn’t shy away from connecting with others because you never know what surprising and meaningful moments might emerge from the most unexpected conversations.
I reached new place to looking for compelling stories for my blog and I was trying to find my destination, but the address provided lacked a clear landmark . I asked a local about the place of Turby Hancock. He replied, “Don’t worry, I’ll take you there.” At first, I was skeptical, wondering why someone would offer to drop me off. He continued, Anyone would help you find her place because she’s a true idol in our society. She contributed so much. Curious, I asked him to tell me more. He shared how, many years ago, the town was filthy and full of problems. Children were dying, but no one had the courage to take the first step toward cleaning it up. Then Turby Hancock, despite all the challenges, decided to act alone. She started cleaning the town on her own, facing immense hardship. Tragically, her son died during this time, but she never gave up. Despite living the rest of her life alone, she carried on with grace and determination. I asked, “Is she still alive?” He answered, No, she passed away last year. The whole town came together to honor her with a funeral. She was like a mother to all of us. When I finally reached the destination, I saw a small statue of Mrs. Turby Hancock. It brought a smile to my face. I thanked Markham for dropping me off and gave him a coin of Maa Durga, the protector of the universe. “She will help you overcome any situation,” I told him. As I entered my hotel, I spoke to the manager. “Sorry, sir. Mrs. Hancock is our pride.” He nodded, and I reassured him, “Don’t worry, I’ve learned a lot about her.” Later, as I sat in my room reflecting on what I had learned, I marveled at how one person could bring about such a profound change. Turby Hancock had single-handedly transformed a community, even when everyone else hesitated. She became a role model for the whole city. It struck me that often we complain about situations but never take the first step. Her story was a powerful reminder that starting small can lead to extraordinary results.
I rented a bike to explore the city, hoping to find compelling stories for my blog. While roaming around, I met a couple who had been traveling across the country in their motorhome for the past two years. I was completely astonished when they told me they had lived in their motorhome not only in the USA but also in Europe and Australia. They shared that the motorhome had cost them $120,000, which struck me as surprising since you could buy a house in the outskirts of most cities for that price. Curious, I asked them about their decision to live in a motorhome, especially considering that a house is generally viewed as an appreciating asset. They responded by saying they would rather cherish their memories than focus on creating an asset for the next generation. They also told me that they planned to settle down and start a family in the USA once they were 35, but before that, they wanted to travel and create as many memories as possible. We both work eight hours a day, they explained, but we don’t want to spend our weekends stuck in the same place, watching movies and shopping. We want to experience the ocean, the desert, and different cultures because that’s how you truly feel alive. They shared a wealth of insights about life on the road and the freedom that comes with it, giving me some tips that I’ll be sure to include in an upcoming vlog. Before we parted ways, I handed them a coin of Bhagwan Vishwakarma, the God of Metal, and wished them safe travels, hoping his protection would keep their vehicle safe. As I cycled back to my hotel, I couldn’t help but reflect on our conversation. Here was a young couple who had broken away from the conventional idea of life in the city, choosing to live their dream instead. It made me think about how many of us want a similar life, but we often put off adventure and travel because of family expectations or societal pressures. Meeting them was an amazing experience that I will cherish forever, and it gave me the push to live the kind of life I truly want.
I was traveling to Denver in search of compelling stories for my blog. There, I had the privilege of meeting Professor Srinath Disilva, a Sri Lankan-origin academic who was the head of the science department at Denver University. During our conversation, he shared his thoughts on exoplanets and the potential for life beyond Earth. When I arrived at his office, I was struck by the vast library it contained, which featured books not only on science but also works by Kabir and Pakistani poets. One book, in particular, caught my attention: a biography of APJ Abdul Kalam. Professor Disilva noticed my interest and, with a smile, remarked that APJ Sir had always inspired him to aim higher, regardless of the challenges he faced. He added that APJ was one of the few people who had helped make India truly great. Curious, I asked Professor Disilva about the origin of humanity. His face lit up, and he told me that this question had always brought him joy, as he had been seeking the answer since his childhood. He explained that there were several candidates for “super-Earths” that might harbor life, but so far, we had not detected any signs of intelligent species. I wondered aloud how such signs could be visible from so far away. He responded that certain gases produced by intelligent species, like humans, cannot be hidden, and these gases are essential markers of advanced life forms. I was amazed by the depth of his research, supported by detailed data and graphs. At one point, I asked him about God, to which he replied, “As an atheist, science is my first priority, but there is a force that helps the universe to function. Perhaps you would call it God, and I call it the force behind the universe.” His answer made me think deeply, and though I offered him a coin with the image of Mahadev, he politely declined, saying, “Sorry, I don’t share that belief.” As I made my way back to the hotel, I found myself reflecting on the conversation. I thought about how some of these professors dedicate their entire lives to their work, not seeking luxury cars like BMWs or Ferraris, and living with minimal material comforts. Are they not modern-day saints, putting humanity first? Their research is helping us live better lives, and in doing so, they embody a spirit of service and selflessness. It was a truly enlightening experience—one that deepened my understanding of knowledge, human origins, and the potential of exoplanets. It also reinforced the importance of aspiring to do greater things, just as APJ Abdul Kalam had inspired Professor Disilva. His story reminded me that no matter the circumstances, it is vital to aspire to do more, push boundaries, and contribute to humanity’s collective progress.
I found myself searching for compelling stories for my blog. I boarded a crowded bus where jostling was the norm, a part of everyday chaos no one seemed to mind. Among the hustle, I noticed a man jostling a girl inappropriately. While most passengers ignored it, a woman in the crowd confronted him. Her unwavering stance caught everyone’s attention, and the man quickly corrected his behavior. When we reached our destination, I approached her and asked for her name. She smiled and said, “Courage has no name,” then added, “But you can call me Katline.” Intrigued, I asked how she came to embody such courage. She began passionately, “People always wait for someone else to act. They expect others to step in, but rarely do it themselves. Do you remember the story about the Indian lady in a metro who stood up against a group of men harassing another woman? Everyone else remained silent, shouting their support only later on social media. That’s the problem—we applaud bravery but hesitate to be brave ourselves. Why? Because we’re afraid of these idiots. Her words were fiery, yet deeply reflective. I handed her a glass of water to calm the intensity of her emotions. She continued, sharing a personal experience from Kolkata. “I witnessed a massive protest there after a horrifying incident. But where were the celebrities and athletes? People with influence stayed quiet when their voices were needed the most.” Her frustration was palpable. As we spoke further, she revealed her vision: training a thousand girls online and developing innovative devices for their safety. Her determination was awe-inspiring, a blend of anger and resolve channeled into meaningful action. Before we parted ways, I handed her a coin with the image of Maa Durga, saying, “She symbolizes Shakti—the origin of all power. May she guide you in your mission.” Katline’s face softened, but her resolve remained unshaken. As the bus carried me to my next destination, her words echoed in my mind. Here was a young woman planning to turn her multimillion-dollar venture into a force for societal good, addressing a problem many choose to ignore. Her courage wasn’t just about confronting a man on a bus; it was about challenging a system that left people to fend for themselves. This meeting reminded me of an essential truth: collective effort is the key to real change. Are we really waiting for another tragedy to awaken us, or will we find the courage to act now?
I visited the University of Denver to meet one of my friends, who had invited me to explore compelling stories for my blog. There, I met a man who owns a grocery store. He had come to the USA in 2010, traveling the “donkey route,” as he described it. When I asked why he made the journey to the USA, he replied that it was a dream he shared with many from his village, especially after hearing about how one of his cousins had gone to America, made a lot of money, and transformed his life. The man’s eyes welled up with tears as he spoke. He shared that his dream was to buy a house and live a better life, but tragedy had struck—he lost his brother. I asked him how it happened, and with a somber tone, he told me that they had planned to travel together via the route of Gautemala. However, during their journey, clashes between rival gangs led to profiteering , and in the chaos, one gang member shot his brother. He said he couldn’t even perform the last rites for his brother, and as a result, he lost his father as well. I then asked him, “After all you’ve been through, would you still want the same life you’ve achieved now? He paused and replied, “No, of course not. I don’t need a BMW or a huge mansion. I can own a simple car and a modest house. But, I’m content now because I can live happily with what I have. He told me he had enough resources to fulfill his dreams, and traveling abroad had always been his aspiration. I said goodbye to him, handing him a coin of Mahadev, wishing him strength. As I walked back to my hotel, I reflected on the conversation. The USA, from the outside, seems like a land of opportunity, but for many illegal immigrants, their stories are filled with pain and hardship. This realization made me think that, while profiteering may seem essential to some, it often comes at a great cost to those who suffer in the process. It’s not just an issue for India or any one country—it’s a global problem. People in Europe might be eating half a burger and facing obesity, while in South Africa, people are struggling to get even a single slice of bread. Why aren’t we advocating for more equal distribution of resources?
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I was searching for compelling stories for my blog when I met a fascinating individual—a research scholar with a PhD from MIT. His area of study? Religion in Asia. He had traveled extensively, visiting countries like India, among others. Intrigued, I asked him what he had learned. His response surprised me: he spoke about the intricate and well-managed structure of religious practices, particularly from an economic perspective. Curious, I probed further and asked for an example. He obliged, explaining, “Take Hinduism, for instance. From birth to adulthood, there are hundreds of rituals—naming ceremonies, rites of passage, marriages, and finally, funeral rites. Along the way, there are countless smaller worships and celebrations, each creating opportunities for community and economic activity. Indian Islam has similar intricacies. For example, marriage practices differ between Arabs and those in India, Pakistan, or Bangladesh.” I then asked him why these practices had faltered over time. He answered thoughtfully, “When people began identifying as intellectuals or atheists, some of these traditions started to lose their hold. Yet, the real decline came when people overlooked the community value of these rituals.” Then, almost as if drawing from a deeper well of wisdom, he quoted, ‘Yada yada hi dharmasya glanirbhavati bharatah, abhyutthanam dharmasya tadatmanam srijamyaham’—reminding me of the timeless cycle of dharma’s restoration. He acknowledged the challenges of caste and color but emphasized that such issues exist globally, urging us to work toward resolution. As we parted, he handed me a copy of the Ramayana. “This book,” he said, “reveals how a common man can rise to become a god in Hinduism.” His words stayed with me on my journey back, stirring deep reflections. I began to see the genius in these complex structures, designed not only to sustain culture but also to provide employment and generate economic activity. Yet today, we face a reality where owners often prioritize profits over the well-being of employees. His insights made me realize the richness of traditions I had grown up around but had never fully appreciated. His parting words, and that ancient verse, reminded me of my childhood and the values I had almost forgotten.
I found myself wavering over a decision: should I visit a jail to meet someone whose story might be compelling for my blog? Despite my hesitation, I decided to go. There, I met a man—a former research scientist who had worked at one of the most prestigious institutions in the country. It felt awkward, meeting someone charged with sedition, but I broke the ice and initiated a conversation. I asked him, “What do you think about nationality?” His reply was profound: “It is the most precious thing; one should be willing to sacrifice everything for their country.” Intrigued, I pressed further and asked how he had managed to reach such a high position, with degrees and achievements that many could only dream of. He explained, “I always dreamed of working in rocketry, innovating something groundbreaking for my country. When I joined the defense sector, it became my mission to learn more and contribute more. I dedicated over 30 years to the rocketry field in the USA. But one mistake… one wrong step… led to disaster.” Curiosity deepened as I asked, “What are your plans for the future?” His response was humbling. I want to read as much as I can and contribute more through my writing. I want to write books, especially about space. Elon Musk’s journey inspires me; he shows that no matter how tough the situation, one can always achieve greatness. As I prepared to leave, I wished him well and said, “You are a protector of the universe in your own way. One day, you will have the chance to conquer your mission.” He smiled, and we parted ways. On my way back to the hotel, I couldn’t stop pondering. Here was a man with extraordinary knowledge and achievements in rocketry, yet his brilliance had somehow been misdirected. How could someone with such a sharp mind and immense potential falter? It reinforced a lesson for me: intelligence and talent are not enough. Moral integrity and focus are equally, if not more, important. Life’s situations may vary, but the resolve to stay on the right path is what ultimately defines excellence.
I took a cab to reach a new destination, hoping to find compelling stories for my blog. Midway, our cab was stopped by the police, and they began questioning the driver in a manner that didn’t seem legitimate. Intrigued by the situation, I asked if this kind of scrutiny happened to everyone. The driver, a Black man, replied, “No, sir. This only happens to us—Black people. This sparked a deep conversation about his experiences. Curious, I mentioned that many Indians perceive the USA as a land of opportunities where everyone dreams of coming. “Why then,” I asked, “is there still such a strong reason for discrimination here?” He responded with candor, “The USA respects the best minds from your country but doesn’t welcome everyone equally. To understand our reality, you’d need to see the world as a Black person. Otherwise, it’s impossible to feel what we endure. He went on to share his perspective, explaining how the system doesn’t favor Black communities, leading to a lack of resources and opportunities, which sometimes push people into crime. Despite good public education, he emphasized how Black people often need to outperform significantly to succeed, whereas others only need to achieve average results. For example, he said, “We need to be in the top 5 percent to be noticed, but they only need to be in the top 95 percent.” He also highlighted economic disparities, explaining, “They own homes, but we are left paying rent our entire lives. When we arrived at my destination, I thanked him for sharing his story and handed him a coin featuring Mahadev, saying, “This is the God of the universe. May he help you overcome any difficulties.” He smiled and added another anecdote, referencing a movie scene where an Indian woman described the USA as a land of opportunity, questioning why Black people would complain. He remarked, “How can someone outside of the USA understand what it’s like to live our lives? As I boarded my flight, his words lingered in my mind. I realized how crucial it is to step into someone else’s shoes to truly understand their struggles. It’s not about labeling anyone as entirely good or bad but recognizing the need for systemic improvements in even the most developed countries. This experience reinforced the importance of legitimate governance and a just society.
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I found myself in Colorado, one of the most beautiful places in the country. It was there I reunited with Olivier, a young friend and true camaraderie, originally from Australia. At just 23 years old, Olivier has already traveled to over 51 countries—a remarkable feat for someone his age. Our friendship began years ago at the Delhi railway station in India. Both of us were headed to Udaipur, and that shared journey sparked a connection that would lead to adventures across several countries. Olivier has always been an inspiration to me, encouraging me to travel, explore, and embrace diverse cultures. I still remember when we first met—he was only 18, traveling alone on his very first trip to India. What amazed me most was his courage. He confessed he was always afraid of missing out on the vibrant and unique cultures of countries like India and China. Despite his fears, he pushed himself to travel far and wide, even exploring remote tribal areas. One incident that stands out vividly is when he called me from Tanzania, having lost his bag and phone. He needed $100 to reach the embassy. I offered him more, but he humbly declined, saying $100 would be enough. What impressed me was his resilience—he didn’t let setbacks stop him. Olivier kept moving forward, undeterred, and continued to pursue his dream of seeing the world. It was during his travels that he came up with the idea for his business: growing vegetables in India and packaging them in China. Over the past five years, he’s made significant profits, enabling him to fund his passion for travel. As I hurried to join him to witness Colorado’s stunning blue-sky mountains, I couldn’t help but reflect on his journey. At just 18, he ventured into unpredictable territories, overcame obstacles, and turned his challenges into opportunities. Olivier’s story is not only inspiring but also a testament to how travel shapes perspectives and fuels personal growth. He is more than just a friend—he is a true camaraderie, someone who motivates and reminds me of the beauty of exploring the world and understanding different cultures. His story is one of resilience, creativity, and passion, making him one of the most inspirational people I know.
I traveled to South Carolina, looking new stories for my blog. I was on my way to meet Daniel Martinez, whom I had met five years ago in China. At the time, he was working on China’s artificial sun project. When I arrived at his house, I was astonished to find it transformed into an arcade . The space was packed with machines of every kind, leaving barely any room to sit. Daniel proudly demonstrated some of his creations. The most remarkable moment was when he showed me a robot capable of arranging every machine in the space to create a bed and a sofa. It was an awe-inspiring sight, especially for someone like me, who has always been critical of machines in daily life. Our interview began with a simple question: how did he start making machines, and why? His answer was deeply personal. With tears in his eyes, he shared that a car accident had left his father without a leg and his mother severely injured. From an early age, he was determined to design a leg for his father that mimicked human behavior. Remarkably, he accomplished this at the age of 13. Despite receiving a $12 million offer from a pharmaceutical company for his invention, he chose to give it to the U.S. healthcare system for free. Daniel’s journey didn’t stop there. He went on to work with various companies, designing some of the best products of his career. When I asked about his biggest motivators and how he copes with devastation, his response took me by surprise. He named Isaac Newton and A. P. J. Abdul Kalam as his inspirations. He spoke passionately about these two men, highlighting their resilience and transformative contributions to the world. Daniel’s admiration for A. P. J. Abdul Kalam was particularly evident. He was a true gentleman who devoted his life to rocketry without demanding a penthouse or luxury car,” he said. Then, with a smile, he added, “But I do have a Lamborghini and a sea-facing house. Meeting his parents was another highlight of the day. Their pride in their son’s accomplishments was palpable. What started as a brief visit turned into a six-hour meeting that flew by in the blink of an eye. As I bid them farewell, I handed Daniel’s parents a coin of Mahadev, saying, “He is the protector of the universe and will help you through any difficulty.” On my way back to the hotel, I reflected on Daniel’s journey. It was incredible how his father’s adversity became the seed of his inspiration, leading him to create groundbreaking machines and contribute to a nation’s efforts to build an artificial sun. Despite the high-tech environment of his arcade-like house, there was a profound beauty in how these machines represented his love, determination, and ingenuity. Daniel’s story is a testament to the power of turning personal struggles into global impact, and it left me deeply moved.
I was browsing the internet, searching for the best places to visit in South Carolina, when a message notification caught my attention. It was an interview request from Pooja Malik, a Pakistani entrepreneur who recently secured $20 million in funding. I had sent her a meeting request the previous day, and she had graciously agreed to meet. I visited her unique house-cum-factory, a place brimming with arcades —some old and unparalleled in design. As we sat down, she spoke in jargon that was initially challenging for me to comprehend. To break the ice and steer the conversation towards my blog, I asked, “How did you come into this business and secure such substantial funding?” Pooja began by recounting her father’s decision to sell their land, which led to a life of extravagance that eventually caused severe financial distress for her family. She reflected on how her uncle, who lived in the USA, came to their aid and invited her to join him. While contributing to household chores, she figured out a way to continue her education. Her uncle, once thriving in the gaming industry, had faced setbacks when TV gaming and PlayStation systems emerged, rendering his coin-operated arcade business obsolete. Curious about her entrepreneurial journey, I asked how she conceived the idea for her business. She shared that one day, an old man visited her uncle and reminisced about his life and the joy of coin gaming systems. This conversation ignited an idea: creating a café that blended Pakistani flavors with vintage gaming machines. “I realized I could sell old memories,” she said, her face lighting up. Starting out was no easy feat. She struggled with obtaining licenses and securing financing, but her uncle imparted critical knowledge and support to help her navigate these hurdles. It inferred her decesion more storonger. When I asked about the challenges of being a female entrepreneur, Pooja’s eyes welled up. She explained that while starting a business in the USA was not as difficult as in many Asian countries, being an immigrant without access to government facilities added layers of complexity. She recounted how her mother had struggled to open a simple tea shop in Pakistan. “Seeing poverty up close gave me the spark to succeed,” she said with quiet determination. When I asked if she missed her parents, she smiled and replied, “No, because they all live in the same city. You must come over for a Pakistani dinner.” I marveled at her warmth and hospitality as she showed me her café—a vibrant space filled with nostalgic gaming machines and mouthwatering food. Before leaving, I gifted her a coin of Maa Laxmi, the goddess of wealth. She was deeply touched and said, “Thank you for this. I know she is the goddess of wealth.” I smiled and added, “And you are the goddess of wealth for your family.” On my way back to the hotel, I reflected on Pooja’s journey. She had transformed her uncle’s struggling business into a thriving enterprise, creating immense wealth not only for herself but also for her family. Her story reshaped my perspective on the startup world, where women like her are breaking barriers and proving that they are ahead of the curve. This was undoubtedly one of the best interviews I had conducted, and I eagerly documented it in my diary.
I was traveling to South Carolina, heading toward the outskirts of the city to see what life was like there. As I waited for a bus, a truck pulled over, and the driver asked where I was headed. I’m going to the outskirts, about 100 kilometers to the right, I replied. He smiled and said, “Hop in! I’ll drop you off, and believe me, it will be an unpralled experience. Curious, I agreed and got into the truck. As we drove, he introduced himself, “My name is Rebecca Bren, from Tanzania. Intrigued, I asked, “How did you get your trucking license? And how’s life as a trucker in the USA? He laughed and said, I can afford a better life than any software engineer. I chuckled at his confidence. Then, with excitement, he shared a surprising part of his life—he had debuted in movies at the age of 26, playing the lead’s friend. Over time, he worked in 26 films. His eyes lit up as he recalled his roles, even showing me clips from his movies. Curious about his journey to the USA, I asked, “How did you move here? His expression changed slightly. “I came as an illegal immigrant through the Mexico border,” he admitted. “I spent five years in jail, then worked in a café for another five years. After that, I got my truck, and I’ve been driving for the last six years. Surprised, I asked, “Why did you leave acting?” He sighed. I got married, had two kids, and my parents were growing old. Movies weren’t paying enough to cover the rising expenses of living in capital cities. I had to make a choice. Wanting to lighten the mood, I asked, Have you heard of Bollywood? His face lit up instantly. Yes! Irrfan Sir! He was my inspiration. The most talented actor in the whole universe! But you Indians failed to give him the recognition he deserved early on. Hearing a foreigner speak so passionately about Irrfan Khan was fantastic. He shared so much about his life, his struggles, and his dreams. Before parting ways, I handed him a coin of Bhagwan Vishwakarma and said goodbye. While going to my host place, I was pondering how family responsibilities had turned an actor into a truck driver. He wanted to act, but with each passing day, his dream was fading. Sometimes, as a society, we fail to truly appreciate our players, actors, and writers. We only talk about them when they are gone.
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I was traveling through Maryland, exploring hidden places and savoring authentic cuisines. As I took a cab to my hotel, I shared the ride with a man who was a church father. His demeanor immediately caught my attention—he was impolite to both the driver and a fellow co-passenger. Throughout the ride, he kept repeating, I will complain, I will complain to the hotel. Why did they send a Chinese car driver? His words felt disrespectful, and when I confronted him about it, he coldly replied, These people are contagious. They spread the virus across the globe. Shocked by such a discriminatory remark, I asked, Does he carry the virus in his pocket?” My co-passenger smiled, but the church father grew agitated. His hostility quickly shifted towards me as he shouted, You brown people took our jobs!
I remained calm and responded, Can you really claim America is yours? Because from what I’ve read, this land originally belonged to the Native and Indigenous people.
At that, the man fell silent. As the cab stopped at his destination, he stepped out without another word.
After he left, the cab driver and I continued the conversation. He sighed and said, “This is common for me.” He went on to share an incident where he was attacked simply for standing up against a co-passenger who was harassing a girl from Pakistan.
In moments like these, he said, we Asians realize we have one identity, no matter our borders. Maybe one day, if we all end up on Mars, we won’t be Chinese, Indian, or Pakistani—we’ll just be Earthians. His words carried a certain wisdom. We talked about struggles and life, and he told me he had a bachelor’s degree in aerospace. Before parting ways, I handed him a coin from Brahma , saying, This is the god of the universe. May he protect you in difficult times.
As I reached my hotel, I reflected on the contrast between an educated yet prejudiced man holding an influential position in society and a humble cab driver who handled discrimination with grace. His perspective—of unity beyond borders—stayed with me. It made me wonder: Why does it take being in a foreign land to see each other as one? And how ironic that people so quick to call others ‘contagious’ fail to see that hatred spreads far more dangerously than any virus ever could.
I felt exhausted from traveling to a new province every week. But I had to visit a friend with whom I shared my college journey. When I arrived at her house, I was struck by how commodious and beautiful it was. Everything was in its place, and the plants and flowers seemed to whisper to me—I should own a house like this someday. When her husband arrived, he immediately started cooking and doing household chores. It was a bit shocking for me—an Indian girl married to a man from Kenya. Curiosity got the better of me, and I asked a rather controversial question: “Did your parents approve of this?” She smiled and said, No. I followed up with another question: “What was their condition?” She and her husband laughed before she shared, “Their only condition was that I could marry a white man, but not a black man. I was stunned that such mindsets still existed in the 21st century. Then she revealed something even more surprising—this was her second marriage. In her first, where her parents had been involved, her husband did not allow her to work or pursue an MBA. She waited six long years after her divorce before finally chasing her dreams. She told me she had done everything to save her first marriage, but it simply didn’t work.
I asked, “After everything, are you happy?” She sighed and said, “My parents don’t talk to me anymore because they think I failed to save my disastrous marriage—the ones with whom I spent 24 years . Then, with a confident smile, she added, “But look at me now. I had the courage to build this commodious home and share it with a wonderful husband.
As I left after dinner, I reflected on how beautifully she had shaped her life—with a supportive partner and a fulfilling career. She made a decision that led to a better, happier life. Why can’t we support our loved ones unconditionally? She may have failed in her first marriage, but she beautifully crafted her future.
I was headed to a new city — Montana. A friend of mine, who works as a professor at a university there, had invited me to visit. The place was beautiful, calm, and surrounded by nature. But the journey had left me a little drained — after a flight followed by a five-hour drive, I was in need of rest. I took a quick two-hour nap, hoping it would be enough to recharge. Not long after I woke up, my friend’s child approached me and asked if I’d come along to the park. I agreed, and while we were there, something unusual caught my eye. A woman, probably in her early forties, was joyfully bouncing on a trampoline. At first, it struck me as odd — not because it was wrong, but because it was rare. Back home, especially in Asian societies, we seldom see adults engaging so freely with what we label as “children’s things.” But there she was, playing happily, with no trace of self-consciousness. It intrigued me. Curious, I walked up to her and asked, “Where are you from?” She smiled warmly and replied, “I’m Sapna Thapa, from Nepal.” I told her it was beautiful to see her playing so joyfully, and she nodded, but I noticed a flicker of pain in her eyes. That silent emotion nudged me to continue the conversation. I asked her if she was born and brought up in the US. She said no — she was from Nepal and had come to the United States as a chemical engineer. What followed was a rapid summary of her life: a B.Tech from Bhopal, an MBA from Symbiosis, a PhD from Johns Hopkins, and over 15 years working in the corporate world for a US-based pharmaceutical company. She spoke it all in one breath, like someone who had repeated this summary many times, or perhaps, someone trying to compress years of struggle into a few words. I asked how she ended up in this quiet city, playing on a trampoline in a school park. Her tone changed. “Over the years,” she said, “I sacrificed my childhood and adulthood trying to win a race — a race I didn’t even fully understand. The corporate world was ruthless. Yes, I won awards and recognition, but somewhere along the way, I lost touch with myself.” It was during therapy for depression that life gave her a different path. She had been invited to deliver a seminar at a local school about chemical engineering and its future. After the session, she asked the school administrator if she could teach there. He said yes — and that simple yes kindled something new inside her. A new life began, she said softly. For the first time, I started living both my missed childhood and my neglected adulthood. I began traveling, cooking, wandering, and even playing — without worrying about what would happen next. I finally stopped running. Her words moved me deeply. I took out a small coin of Lord Ganesha I carried with me — a symbol of new beginnings and childlike innocence — and handed it to her. He’s known to whisper blessings on fresh starts,” I said. She held it in her palm, smiled gently, and replied, I think He’s been with me all along, I just didn’t recognize it. As I walked back to my friend’s house, her story stayed with me. I kept wondering: why do we push children to grow up too quickly? And why do we deny adults the freedom to be playful or vulnerable? What kind of society are we building — especially in Asia — where joy, spontaneity, and inner peace are often traded for achievement, titles, and validation? Every day in the USA surprises me with stories I never expected to hear. But one question, in particular, echoed in my mind that evening: Would I trade a beautiful childhood for a successful life?
After reaching Montana, I visited Yellowstone National Park, eager to witness its famed beauty. What I saw truly amazed me—the vast landscapes, geysers, and untouched nature were like a scene from a dream. While exploring, I met a man in a wheelchair traveling with his family. The sight evoked a quiet sympathy in me. Moments later, they approached and kindly invited me to join them for lunch. I declined at first, unsure, but when they insisted again with such warmth, I accepted. During our meal, they asked where I was from. India, I replied. A smile immediately lit up their faces. Curious, I asked about them, and they shared that they were from Italy. What came next surprised me even more. I asked how they ended up in the USA, and the man said something remarkable: after working for 25 years, he decided to apply for a PhD in the U.S.—fulfilling a dream he had held since childhood. He told me, One night, I dreamt that there’s no point in retiring if it means letting go of the dreams you never dared to chase. I knew it would be hard financially, but I’d rather work day and night again than abandon the dream I’ve carried for so long. He added, I’ve learned a new business idea here. I’ve met fantastic people like you. I then asked him if managing life in a wheelchair made things difficult. He chuckled and said, If people without legs could imagine and build airplanes, why should my disability stop me from exploring new possibilities? His words struck me. And what he said next elucidated every doubt I had about life: I recently got admission to a university here. Tell me—do you think it’s worth taking risks in life? I smiled and replied, Yes. In that moment, he clarified something I had never fully understood before—how dreams demand risk, faith, and persistence, no matter your age or limitations. As we parted, I gave him a coin with Lord Mahadev on it. He is the power of the universe, I said. May He protect your family from any hardships. On my way back, I kept reflecting on our conversation. That man had spent his entire retirement chasing a dream—and he made it come true. It made me think of how often young people, including myself, are afraid to take risks. His story elucidated the truth: with careful planning and the courage to take risks, any dream is achievable. That one meeting changed my outlook. I used to worry about how I would survive if I ever became disabled. But now I’ve seen someone who is not just surviving—but winning.
After exploring a few quiet corners of Montana, I set my sights on a new destination—South Dakota. While waiting for my flight, I noticed a family dressed in beautiful ethnic attire. Among them was a foreign bride—elegant, confident, and radiant—and the whole family seemed to embrace her as their own. The sight felt unusual yet heartwarming. Curious, I approached an older woman from the group who seemed approachable. Something about her reminded me of home. I soon learned she spoke Bhojpuri—one of familiar language from Bihar—and that one connection was enough to start a conversation. I introduced myself, and she warmly welcomed me and introduced her family. They were from Buxar, Bihar. Eventually, I gently asked the groom’s mother how she felt about her son marrying a Black woman. Her response stayed with me. She smiled, then shared honestly, Earlier, the entire family pressured my son to marry within our caste, religion, and region. That marriage led to disaster—financial hardships and, eventually, divorce. He slipped into depression for six years. She paused before continuing, Then he met this woman in New Delhi. They worked hard, supported each other, and eventually moved to the USA. Our family resisted at first, but this time, I took charge. I thought, What if I were in her place? Would I want someone to stop my marriage because of my color, class, or background? That thought alone… it deciphered everything for me. Her voice trembled slightly as she said, To support them, I sold some of my jewelry. I stood up to my in-laws and relatives. I realized how blind we’ve been—always trying to prove we’re superior while looking down on those we label as ‘inferior.’ But coming to America taught me something: even we, from a so-called third-world country, are just brown, not white. We are judged too. Then she smiled and added, Even my daughter married a Christian boy here in the US. And you know what? I’m proud. This country changed my point of view. Just then, the boarding announcement interrupted us. As we said our goodbyes, and I handed a small coin of Lakshmi Narayan to the newlyweds and blessed them: May this bring you prosperity and peace. As I took my seat on the plane, I kept thinking—how a disaster in her life helped this once-conservative woman decipher the deeper meaning of acceptance, beyond caste, race, or religion. How a woman, simply by being herself, transformed an entire family. And how this country—despite all its flaws—offers a space for reinvention, new beginnings, and fresh perspectives.
After arriving in South Dakota, I booked a cab. This time, I was pleasantly surprised—a lady was driving. She looked focused and dedicated. Curious, I initiated the conversation by asking how she was. She replied politely that she was doing well. She introduced herself as Tarana Parveen, originally from Bangladesh. I asked if she drove full-time. No, she said, I drive from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. and then attend my classes. That caught my attention—she wasn’t just working; she was learning too. I asked what she was studying, and she replied, A Master’s in Business Administration. I couldn’t help but ask how she ended up in the U.S. She smiled and said, It’s a long story. Want to hear it? I said, Of course! It’s a two-hour drive—we have time. She then began sharing her journey. At the age of 21, she married for love—against her family’s wishes. At first, life was smooth, but everything turned upside down when her husband was diagnosed with blood cancer. Every person from both our families believed this was bound to happen to me, she said. They thought I had ‘stolen’ someone’s beloved, and I deserved to suffer. I begged for help, but no one stood by us. It was painful to watch the people I loved the most—my parents, my brother—turn their backs on me. I asked how she managed to come to the U.S. She explained that her husband, despite his illness, supported her unconditionally. She worked hard, studied, and eventually received a scholarship to study in an American university. The same university helped arrange treatment for her husband. I asked her, How do you manage everything? With a calm smile, she said, It’s hard. I study five hours a day and work in the morning. It’s tiring, yes. But when I see the faces of my husband and my little daughter, I feel at peace. I know what I’m fighting for—and I’m ready to face anything. When we reached my destination, I handed her a coin of Maa Durga, saying, She’s the goddess of strength—may she help you fight all your difficulties. She smiled warmly and replied, Being Bengali, I know Maa Durga well. She has always been with me. Back at home, I sat in silence, shivering—not from cold, but from the intensity of her story. A woman, abandoned by her loved ones, chose to fight, to endure, and to rise. She got into one of the top universities in the U.S.—something many only dream of. Her industrious spirit, her resilience, and her devotion to her family were on a completely different level.
I was searching for interesting places to explore when a friend—who happens to be a professor in Montana—sent me a link to an AI-based startup conference. Without a second thought, I pounced on the opportunity, booked my seat, and headed straight to the venue. Upon arrival, I began looking for people who could share insights about the event and the future of AI. That’s when I came across a group of five school students. Curious, I asked, Where are you all from? One of them replied, We’re from Nebraska School. I assumed it was a school project and asked accordingly, but they surprised me. No, it’s an AI product that reads data and trains itself—without formal training sets. Intrigued, I asked, You seem to be Asian? She smiled and said, Yes, my parents are from Sri Lanka. My friend is from India, one is from Mexico, and two of us are from the USA. I was genuinely impressed and asked how they ended up at this conference. She explained, Our school selected two students to build an AI product, and we teamed up—Tanya, Angelina, and Rosary. We’ve been living here for the past week, and we need to submit our project within 21 days. I asked if it was school-sponsored, and she replied confidently, Of course. Then I asked whether they had met any startup founders. Her answer caught me off guard: We had the chance to meet Arvind Srinivas and Sam Altman. I was amazed. These young students were receiving feedback from some of the biggest names in the startup world. I turned to Tanya, who was from Hyderabad, and asked, What do you think is missing in our country? She replied thoughtfully, We have good schools, but we miss this kind of exposure. Does it really matter if you win or lose? What matters is that you participated. In the USA, they prepare students for everything. She then told me about Awasthi, an 18-year-old girl who founded a $100 million startup. It was deeply inspiring. As the conference was about to begin, I said goodbye and handed them a coin of Maa Saraswati, the goddess of wisdom. May she bless you with knowledge and insight, I said. On my way back, I couldn’t stop reflecting. These American institutions offer young people a real shot at working with entrepreneurs and building something meaningful. In contrast, back home, the mindset often is: first study, then gain experience, then maybe start something—if at all. Only a few institutions truly nurture startup culture, while most students are pushed into a race for jobs. I’ve visited many countries, but there’s something unique about the USA. For all its flaws, it remains a land of innovation and opportunity—a place where one can still pounce on a chance and create something extraordinary.
I was scrolling through the internet, searching for my next destination, when my phone rang. It was a call from the parent of Sofia—a person I had met at an AI conference. They had invited me over for dinner. I accepted and went with a few fruits and chocolates as a small gesture. Both of them were from Bangladesh, and I was curious to learn more about their journey. As we settled in, I asked how they had come to the USA. They shared that they had both been pursuing their PhDs at Dhaka University when they met and fell in love. But when they approached their families with the idea of marriage, they were met with strong resistance. Their families wanted them to marry within their respective religions. When they refused, things turned violent—they were beaten and emotionally torn. Eventually, they made a bold, desperate decision: to intrude into Egypt, fleeing their homeland in search of freedom. In Egypt, they worked at a local bakery for a few years. Then, one day, an opportunity came—a letter offering them a chance to come to the USA for their postdoctoral research. But there was a problem—they had no money to afford the flight. That’s when the bakery owner, seeing their potential and struggle, stepped in and paid for their tickets. I was stunned. I asked them if it had been difficult in the beginning. They nodded. Yes, it was hard, they said. Postdoc salaries were meager, and most of it went into rent. We had a baby. Some days, we ate only once. Their eyes held a heaviness that words could barely carry. Then I asked, Did you enjoy coming to the USA? They paused and replied softly, No. We love our motherland. Sometimes we feel like intruders here. Not because America has treated us badly—but because we didn’t want to leave. We wanted to contribute to our own country, to build something meaningful with what we learned during our PhDs. But our society, our families, our relatives—no one allowed us that chance. They were more concerned about their so-called reputation than the survival of our family. There was a silence, a quiet sadness in the room. We still want to fly back to Bangladesh, the husband added, but we are afraid. What if one of us doesn’t survive? What will happen to our daughter? Just then, their little girl walked over and said in her tiny voice, Don’t worry, Dad. I will solve everything when I become a cop. After dinner, I gave them a coin of Maa Durga and said, She is the power of the universe. The husband smiled gently, Being Bengali, she was always worshipped in my house. I believe it is because of her that we are still alive. On my way back to the hotel, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. Their story stayed with me. We, as a society, seem to have lost our sense of humanity—replacing emotion with ego, and love with rigid beliefs. Here was a brilliant couple, full of potential, forced to become refugees from their own homeland just because they dared to love across religious lines. In Asia, we have countless professionals with world-class talent—but the US ends up offering them the salaries, safety, and respect they rightfully deserve. This country continues to surprise me every day, but meeting this couple brought a deep pain I hadn’t felt in a while. They didn’t come here for money. They came because they were forced to intrude into a new life. Because their own refused to welcome them.
After weeks of constant traveling, I was tired—physically and mentally. I found myself yearning for a peaceful place to rest, reflect, and reconnect. I began searching for a yoga center and stumbled upon one named Yog-Atma, run by an 18-year-old girl. Curious and hopeful, I enrolled myself. The moment I stepped in, it felt like heaven—flowers were beautifully arranged, incense sticks filled the air with a soothing fragrance, and calm music played softly in the background. I was welcomed by Deekshita Reddy, who introduced herself with a warm smile. She personally attended to me during the yoga session. Afterward, I took a refreshing bath. By dinner time, I felt so peaceful that I asked her if she’d join me for a walk. I wanted to hear her story—for my blog. She agreed. As we walked under the quiet evening sky, I asked my first question: Is the US beautiful? She smiled and replied, After traveling for four months, have you found it beautiful? Yes, I said. Then it is, she answered simply. I asked my next question: Are you from the US? She laughed, No, I’m from Karnataka. And that’s how her story began. She told me that she used to be a farm laborer in India. “Most days, I was just monkeying around on the village playground,” she said, but one day, an NGO came to our area to run a camp on yoga and meditation. I signed up—not because I wanted to learn yoga, but because they were offering one meal, and it was hard for our family to even manage two meals a day. She confessed that it was tiring—working on the farm and then waking up early for yoga—but slowly, something shifted. I started liking it. Yoga gave me strength. Not just physical, but mental strength to keep going. She practiced diligently and mastered the art in three years. During a visit to her aunt’s place in Bangalore, she was doing yoga on the rooftop when a few foreign tourists noticed her and asked if she could teach them. She hesitated at first, speaking only her local language, but the foreigners offered her something unexpected: they’d teach her English and Spanish in exchange. At just 16, she returned to farm labor, but work was scarce. Then, one day, she got an unexpected opportunity—an invitation to conduct a yoga and meditation camp in South Dakota, USA. She was scared—it was a new country, a new culture—but her father supported her wholeheartedly. In fact, her family sold their cattle to help fund her journey. The camp was a huge success. One of the attendees was so moved that he offered her a rent-free space to open her own yoga center. The local community stepped in to help, and she soon enrolled herself in an undergraduate program at a nearby university. When I asked her, Do you earn good money now? she replied, No, not a lot—but enough to give my family a decent life and to support myself here. Finally, I asked about her future plans. She said, I want to open a free yoga and meditation center someday—for those who can’t afford it, just like I once couldn’t. As we said goodbye, I handed her a small coin of Bhagwan Narayan. He’s the preserver of the universe, I said. All power lies within him. He will protect you. On my way back to my room, I couldn’t wait to write about this 18-year-old girl who had once monkeyed around on a village playground, struggled to find enough food, and yet—through sheer resilience and the power of yoga—transformed her life. We often run away from new beginnings, fearing failure and ridicule. But sometimes, all it takes is giving yourself a chance—like she did. And it can change everything. Even your finances.
I was at the airport, waiting for my next flight. It had been delayed by three hours. As I sat in the lounge, I noticed a woman sitting next to me, quietly listening to something with her headphones on. I thought, why not start a conversation? I turned to her and said, Hello. She took off her headphones, smiled, and replied, Hello. I asked, Do you work in the USA? She smiled again and said, I’m from Kazakhstan. My name is Diana. Curious, I continued, How did you come to the US? She told me she was here for a business meeting related to beauty products, with a strong focus on skincare. I then asked if she would be open to sharing her story for my blog. She nodded. She began, Since birth, I’ve been blind. It was incredibly difficult to study because there were no schools for the visually impaired in our area. My parents moved to a nearby town just so I could get an education. I enrolled in a regular school and became a good student. Her mother had also started a small salon in that town, and Diana would often listen to her stories about clients and beauty products. That’s where my curiosity for skincare began, she said. There were so few products available for different skin types—so much was missing. After completing her Master’s in Business Administration, she made a bold decision—to become an entrepreneur. I started with a small, vibrant team, she said with pride. Everyone told me I couldn’t run a beauty product company because I was blind. But I believed I could feel skin better than anyone. God has given us different kinds of powers. Mine is heightened touch and intuition. It wasn’t easy at first. No one was willing to trust their skin with a product made by a blind founder. But Diana didn’t stop. She built a community, providing employment to visually impaired people and empowering them to become models for her campaigns. We launched a movement, she said. We didn’t just sell products—we told stories. That’s when investors started noticing us. The turning point came when a U.S.-based investor offered her $10 million to grow her company. I couldn’t believe it, she said. I had never dreamed that one day, I’d be talking about a company valued at over $60 million—run mostly by visually impaired people. Just then, the boarding call was announced. I stood up, shook her hand, and handed her a small coin of Maa Lakshmi. She’s the goddess of wealth, I said. May she bring prosperity to your business. She smiled warmly and replied, Thank you. As I settled into my seat on the flight, I kept thinking about her story. We all have a superpower—we just forget to discover it. Most of us follow the herd, never pausing to reflect on what truly makes us special. Here was a woman who had every reason to be doubted by the world. Yet with clarity, courage, and vibrant determination, she built a thriving business and gave employment to over 300 people in her country. Her story changed how I see life. It reminded me that if God gave you life, He also gave you a power—find it. Because you are special.
I arrived in Alaska, heading to a new city—Anchorage. I checked into a dormitory-style hotel with eight bunk beds. As I was settling in, I noticed a girl on her laptop, switching fluently between six different languages during a video call. I waited until her call ended, then struck up a conversation. She introduced herself as Kaen Jing from Harbin, China. Meeting someone from a neighboring country in such a faraway place felt strangely comforting—almost like home. I asked her how she came to the USA. With a smile, she replied, By plane—and through a legitimate way. Her humor made me curious to know more. When I asked if she was just traveling or had come for a specific reason, she said, I’m here for work. I asked if she’d be open to sharing her story for my blog. She smiled and said, Why not? Maybe I’ll become famous. Kaen told me she learned languages out of necessity. I started young—around 8 years old, she said. My father wasn’t around, and my mother worked in a restaurant. One of my teachers taught me a little English, and I started guiding tourists in my hometown. Learning that one language made me curious to learn more. Years later, after completing her education, Kaen faced two years of unemployment. During that time, she realized that her language skills could be more than just a survival tool. With a bold vision, she started her own company called Bridge—a platform that connects people across cultures and industries through translation and cultural understanding. I figured, she said, if I could help tourists, why not doctors, IT professionals, and travelers who need real-time, human understanding—not just translation apps? I asked her how she came up with this idea. She said the turning point came when she read Start with Why: How Great Leaders Inspire Everyone to Take Action. That book helped her realize her purpose: to bridge gaps between people, languages, and opportunities. When I asked her what advice she’d give to people afraid of learning new languages, her answer struck me: Be mute. Watch. Observe. Make mistakes like a child. No one teaches a child how to speak—they learn by trying, failing, and repeating. That’s how I learned. Before I left for a dinner invitation, I gave her a coin of Maa Saraswati, the goddess of knowledge. She blesses those who seek learning, I told her. May she guide you to master even more languages. As I walked to my friend’s house that evening, I reflected deeply. A little girl once guided tourists just to support her family. That same girl is now a bridge between cultures, between needs and solutions, between fear and fluency. Many of us in India hold back, afraid to speak in English, afraid to make mistakes. But Kaen taught me the biggest lesson: learn like a child, fearlessly.
I had planned a city exploration trip with a group and was thrilled at the idea of meeting new people. As I was traveling solo, I ended up striking a conversation with a fellow traveler named Dilkhush from Bindhekhalpur,Jharkhand. He was working as an administrator in India. Our chat soon drifted into deeper topics—especially one that’s often debated back home: whether bureaucratic exams in India should be limited to just two attempts and have strict age caps. Curious, I asked for his take on the issue. He smiled and said, Two attempts aren’t the problem. The real question is—can you ensure the same resources and opportunities for everyone? He gave a simple yet powerful example: Imagine someone who has completed their education in a remote village of Tamil Nadu. How can their preparation ever match someone who’s had the privilege of studying in Delhi? He went further, raising the issue of language. We impose English on everyone, he said, without first fixing our education system. It creates a divide within society—between those who’ve had access to better schools and those who haven’t. This really made me think. I then raised a counterpoint: But what if someone joins the administration at 40? Doesn’t India lose the chance to train them for longer? He responded thoughtfully, “Do you really think a 21-year-old has seen and understood society better than someone who’s lived through its layers for decades? I doubt that.” When I asked him about the hurdles faced by people from rural areas, his response was striking: The system has been built for them, not us. In the U.S., there are still barriers, but there’s also a sense of equal opportunity. Our forefathers were aware of the deep-rooted inequalities in Indian society—that’s why they tried to design a roadmap for inclusion. But the truth is, many still fear people from villages rising to positions of power in bureaucracy. His honesty shook something within me. It challenged a part of my thinking. As we were about to part ways, I asked him, If you could make one big change in India, what would it be? He replied without hesitation: I would change the perception of Indians who block the paths for people from rural areas. Instead of building new hurdles, we should focus on distributing resources equally and welcoming everyone into the vision of India. Before leaving, I handed him a coin with the image of Maa Saraswati on it. I said, May she bless you with wisdom and knowledge. On the way back from that trip, his words stayed with me. Maybe our opinions differ, but the concern he raised was real and important. Why do we often focus on creating new barriers in the name of reform, instead of designing inclusive roadmaps that align with the vision of a just and equal India?
The above phrase is written by one of my friends, Atul. Surely there will be some updates in the upcoming days. For any query or suggestions, feel free to write at
ghulam2545@gmail.com