Author: Rhea
It was Monday morning, not as usual. This Monday had never come before.She sat with her hands around a warm mug.It wasn’t cold. The light hadn’t broken yet.The house was quiet. Or maybe, just that there was no sound.The page stared back, blank and honest.She didn’t flinch. She waited. She had learnt to.She wrote a line. It didn’t sing. She left it, as it is.Then another. Another word. A timid thought.Some breaths that looked like trailed dots.None of them perfect, but they were there.The tea cooled. The sky turned pale, like the edges of her fingers.The pressure showed. And yetStill,…
(On June 11 2025, Air India flight AI171 left Ahmedabad for London, with 242 people. It crashed almost immediately. 241 people died. This piece is for them) Intense confusion— the kind I don’t usually feel. And hunger pangs, also not something I often know. And yet, I did. The indecision spilled over, slow, ominous— To eat or not eat. Wait, or not wait. Stay, or go back home. Land, or not land. And at once, in a sudden moment, the pain of the pilot—his indecision, his panic, the weight of 241 lives— became mine. Even as I boarded a much-delayed…
I have often wondered why does creativity feel so settling quietening….liberating? Creation feel like a voluntary act of humility a quiet way to own our awesomeness, without needing to shout or explain. We build, because we believe something more beautiful, more useful, more serving is always possible. All invention is a whisper from the future, asking us to grow. Like the Oak tree it comes back to prod its seed state, To manifest it magnificence..grow. Have we stopped to wonder.. If a calculator weren’t faster than us, we wouldn’t need it? If music didn’t make us feel more deeply, we…
Sonder— the sudden knowing that every stranger – is living, has lived a vast life I heard of someone suddenly passing away, Someone I did not know- I did not even know of And yet…I felt it, It was there in my sudden escaped breath. A slight wondering , trying to conjure his face Was he young, older? sharp nose, maybe – dark eyes? Why? I don’t have an answer. There was a felt sense of a little more space, that is now unoccupied And yet, their story, his story will continue to give its hue to the fabric It…
They do not flinch. They do not fold. They don’t fret over the wrinkles, or the pain in their soul. They do not shrink to soothe the fragile. Giants walk— barefoot on Truth, With thunder in their throats and lullabies in their palms. They take up space, not to smother, but to remind you—there is enough room for all of us to rise. Heck, the sky never marked your height on the walls, Nor did the earth, give a number on your weighing scale. It just inspired you to look up and feel the lightness and look down and know…
For Arthur my dad – Happy birthday . There are mornings when the silence thickens into the shape of memory. The air folding with the faintest pressure, as if your hands, the ones that knew both engine grease and how to carry a child’s tenderness, reaches through without asking. Even though you were loud most times, I remember your silent acknowledgements The places in my memory, Where you should have said something, Something, perhaps reprimanding, And you didn’t. And in that quite moment, I became a little bit more of me And comfortable with it. Your old yezdi with me…
The Power of Self-Organization: From Turing to Team Dynamics In the heart of Africa, vast termite mounds rise from the ground—majestic, complex, and precisely ventilated. No single termite ‘leads’ the construction, none of them build a team agenda. Yet, together, they build structures that rival human-engineered buildings in climate control and efficiency. This is the principle of Self-organization, a principle elegantly observed by Turing. One cannot talk about AI without making reference to AT – Alan Turing (1912–1954), best known as the father of modern computing, also made key contributions to biology. In his 1952 paper, “The Chemical Basis of…
One day, yet again the door opens, after the heavy rains Hope, walks in first. She’s beautiful, luminous, soft around the edges, demure almost. Her voice is sweet, a little uncertain. She smiles at you, tentatively – unsure if her smile will be reciprocated……. and how she may feel if not. She says things like, “Wouldn’t it be nice if…” – “Maybe things will change.” – “I hope they see what I see.” She sits next to you in the waiting room of life, hands restless in her lap, eyes on the door, practicing the art of patience and preparing—quietly—for disappointment.…
It starts small. You see someone doing what you dream of doing. They seem clear. Capable. Ahead. Seem. You don’t see their struggle. Their effort. Their commitment. You don’t see their “why.” And something in you tightens. Not because they’re doing well — but because suddenly, you feel behind. Not enough. Out of place. Separate. This is the hidden cost of comparison. It doesn’t just make you question your pace — it makes you question your worth. Comparison is a trick. It makes their story about you. It turns someone else’s chapter into your shame. And worst of all —…
The Future is groups. I have been fascinated by the phenomena of Autopoeisis, for a long time. Having literally (almost) grown up in my grandmas garden, I would be fascinated by how little effort and care “nature” needs, not just to grow but to thrive, on its own Ofcourse I did not know the term then. And even now, I know the term and still discovering what it means more. I have been curiously observing this phenomena around and in me. As a practicing biomimic, I am trying to see how can it make sense in Leadership and Organization development…