Of all the things I have, my most prized possession lies deep inside my heart - the stories that I have heard and that I have lived. Very rarely have I ever forgotten, for they stay with me. The Stories that Stay - these are who I am!

As I move forward in life, in years and in experience, one question emerges as the most prominent. No, it is not about life's purpose. I feel purpose is overdiscussed, so much so that I judge the question for a lack of originality and immense boredom. Moreover, it seems to instantly shade the narrative with a deep gray philosophical burden. I feel more intrigued and excited instead by a practical question about what drives my life; amid the mundane, essential tasks of sustaining everyday life, from buying tomatoes to cleaning windows, it is challenging to keep going with peace and occasional enthusiasm.

As a child, both pleasure and pressure, with a promise of delayed pleasure, were driving my life - either a day out with friends or an exam deadline, in the hope of a celebration to follow. However, my decisions were guided and, in some cases, imposed by elders. As I grew up a bit, my aspirations and vision of what life should eventually become, shaped by societal expectations and peer pressure, were the driving force. My experience was limited, and the external guidance seemed believable. Now, at this point in life, some experience I have feels a tiny bit empowering, and the external voices seem unreliable, unnecessary.

I now work; for money. I wake up on time to follow the list of things to do, and to be in a chase to finish them all - they never end. I wish I could bathe for a lifetime in one go, finish my toothbrushing for all time in a day, or buy the tomatoes I need for my entire life with a single click. Fortunately-unfortunately, life doesn't follow this pattern. But if these tasks design my days, are these the ones that drive me to live my life?

So, of late, standing in the middle of the ocean of life, trying to balance the waves on a single plank, enjoying the sunset and fearing the thunderstorm, I see the most significant question of my life emerge in the clear blue sky with the snow-white clouds - what drives me now?

Amid the design of life, moments that connect me to myself, make me feel human and alive, reinforce my faith in the universe, stir my stomach, wrench my soul, so much so that the whirlpool of emotions comes up, hustling against my throat, waiting to gush open, through bouts of laughter at times, and sometimes a barrage of tears - that's my drive. These moments may fit into the design of my days or may not; may find space in the clutter of tasks or may not; may happen every day, or may not for months; may be as simple as seeing a child giggle, or as layered as a movie by Imtiaz Ali - a beautiful flower or a dense forest, a tapri chai or a full-blown platter; a defiant article or an anthology of poems; a hand-written note or a bundle of photographs; a colleague's pat or a complete support system; a meaningful song or series of poor jokes; a warm hug or a long holiday, a moving lecture or a complete book collection. They seep seamlessly and randomly into the mesh of my daily lists, infusing love and creating life. 

I slowly understand why these moments matter so much. They are my stories - stories about life. I do not believe that the ability to think makes me human; my stories are what is most human about me. And stories, I rarely forget. I share some, and some I bury deep inside me, for the world might not yet be ready. The Stories that Stay - these are who I am!

Behind the Scenes

I am writing this piece in a beautiful house in Dresden, where I lived in the summer of 2026 - the greens shine through the window, and the sky looks sharp blue as in a painting. I have been listening and reading about Imtiaz Ali's Main Wapas Aaunga over the past weeks, and I cannot wait to go back to India to watch the movie in a theatre. It is the story of long-lost love during the partition, which binds me to it by virtue of my being. On second thought, I may not watch it, either because I may not be able to bear the emotions or because I don't want the 'wait' to be over. What I feel now made me write this blog, in part.

The other reason is the stories that I brought with me to Dresden, not from India, but from my journey to Dresden. I saw two documentaries during my flight - The Shadow Scholars and Prime Minister - both powerful stories of amazing women on their respective journeys. The former is a documentary about Prof Patricia Kingori's work at the University of Oxford, who investigated the lives of youngsters in Kenya writing academic essays as gig work for global researchers and students, being their anonymous shadows. The latter is about Jacinda Ardern, New Zealand's young female Prime Minister, who became a mother after assuming office and eventually resigned. These stories stirred me and pushed something inside me. If you are looking for stories that make you pause and think, you may check these out.

Yours Truly

Dresden (June 25, 2026; 4.42 PM)