My mind my dome!

Perception and Reality - The Brand Called You...!!! Perception is a form of reality. Big companies understand the importance of brands. Today, in the Age of the AI, you have to be your own brand.But the challenge is the constant pressure of having to generate revenue for yourself and the struggle to build your brand.To be in business today, our most important job is to be head marketer for the brand called You.The answer: personal branding.Become your own brand manager.Forget your job title. Ask yourself: What do I do that adds remarkable, measurable, distinguished, distinctive value? Forget your job description. Ask yourself: What do I do that I am most proud of?So it's a cliché: don't sell the steak, sell the sizzle. Instead of making yourself a slave to the concept of a career ladder, reinvent yourself on a semi - regular basis. Many people wouldn’t be confident about answering these questions positively. Yet perception is a form of reality – and therefore other people’s

(Poetry on Time) In the realm of time's great paradox, Where past and present interlock, I find myself in a quandary deep, Yearning for some memories I still keep. Oh, how I long for days of yore, When laughter echoed, carefree galore, But alas, they're all gone, never ever to return, A lesson learned, a bitter sweet truth to discern. No time machine can whisk me away, To a bygone era, in disarray, For the universe forbids such flight, To alter history, a forbidden plight. No Rip Van Winkle, I shall not sleep, And wake to changes, the world's secrets keep, Nor Kumbhakaran i am, slumbering in time's embrace, Awakening in a past, lost in space. But fear not, i say to myself, for in my heart, I hold those vivid memories, a precious art, The dolls, the frocks, those kindergarten friends & the simpler days, Forever cherished, in my memory's haze. Adventures I always seek, in realms & places unknown, Where my imagination's seeds are sow

I sat nervously, fiddling with a needle. Dwelling on matters that have essence  beyond all this fiddle. Pondering no sword can play wheedle with a needle.  Since It's the only machine with a treadle.   I sew my ballroom dress under a candle.  Boring a hole between with a wimble.  Sewing the hemline with thread and needle. Holding the seam together despite all the struggle. Keeping my finger's on the  material. Spinning it's handle with trouble.  I realize it's time to replace the needle. As I sit throughout night sewing with thread and needle.  I could hear the morning roosters crowing.  Pricking up my ears  to my cows braying.  Along with my restless beagle too baying.  With that heavenly scent of freshly baked bagel.  Licking my  toes   in company of my feet h ere yawns my beagle.  With Floppy flapping ears and sagging jaws my naughty beagle. I sat with my scissors and thimble.  Adjusting the wimples crinkle.  Absentminded while sewing I smell the bagel.  Inadvertentl

In the spherical orb of leisure, day and night, The heart seeks love's embrace, ever in sight. Amidst the ardour of passion, it resides, Endlessly yearning, where solitude hides. In summer nights, when breezes softly blow, Under the cool, white sheets, awake I glow. Lost in memories, your essence I trace, Childhood innocence and foolishness embrace. Gazing at stars, lying on rooftop high, A shade upon my burning flesh, nearby. In pursuit of solace, my heart does roam, Seeking respite, in the stillness of my home. Alone I stand, wherever you may be, Call out to me, let your voice set me free. I search for demiurge, my heart yearns in pain, As my heart seeks me, in endless refrain. No destination, no path to tread, In this realm of aloneness, sorrow spread. This state of solitude, burdened with affliction & grief, In oblivion neither living nor dying, seeking relief. Tell me, what shall I do, neither lifeless nor alive? In this moment's mercy, a flicker does thrive. This mome

In depths of darkness, where innocence bled, A tale of sin and mercy I now spread. The Lord's judgment awaits, this truth be told, For those who shed blood, their hearts turned cold. Not warriors, but killers, their hands stained red, Building houses in God's name, they dread. For life destroyed is rebellion profound, Denying souls their earthly journey's ground. Yet forgiveness, a beacon, still shines bright, God's grace and mercy, like stars in the night. Compassionate, gracious, slow to anger's flame, Love abounds, calling sinners by name. Responsibility lies with those who know, The weight of knowledge, the seeds they sow. But those who hear less, with lighter load, Are judged with fairness, by the Almighty's code. Great opportunities, blessings untold, A love relationship, a story to unfold. Salvation's path, a gift freely given, For any willing heart, seeking to be forgiven. Yet beware, deliberate sin's treacherous snare, Knowledge ignored, sacrifi

दिल फुर्सत के दिन और रात में बार-बार ढूंढता है, प्यार के ख्यालों में बैठा रहता है। दिल फुर्सत के दिन और रात में फिर से खोजता है, या गर्मियों की रातों में जब पुरवाई हवाएं चलती हैं। ठंडी सफ़ेद चादर पर देर तक जागना, गाती रहती हूं तुम्हारी यादों में। याद करते बचपनापन और बेवकूफियां, छत पर लेटे हुए तारों को देख रहा हूँ। ओ, धूप में जलते हुए तन को, छाया पेड़ की मिल गई। रूठे बच्चे की हँसी जैसे फुसलाने से फिर खिल गई, अभी मुझ में कहीं बाकी थोड़ी सी है ज़िंदगी। जगी धड़कन नई, जाना ज़िंदा हूँ मैं तो अभी, दिल दिन-रात उसी फुर्सत की तलाश में रहता है। मैं अकेला हूँ, तुम जहां भी हो आ जाओ, मैं तुम्हें कहां बुलाऊं, तुम कहां हो? हम तुम्हें ढूंढ़ते हैं, हमारा दिल हमें ढूंढ़ता है। अब न कोई मंजिल है, न कोई रास्ता। अकेलेपन की यह स्थिति और उस पर आपका दुःख, न जियो न मरो, बताओ क्या करें? दिल ढूँढता है फिर वही फुर्सत के रात दिन, बैठे रहे तसव्वुर-ए-जानाँ किए हुए दिल ढूँढता है। फिर वही फुर्सत के रात दिन... या गर्मियों की रात, जो पुरवाईयाँ चलें, ठंडी सफ़ेद चादरों पर जागें देर तक। तारों को देखतेओ, धूप में जलते हुए तन को, छ

In the realm of leisure, day and night, A heart seeks love's embrace, ever in sight. Amidst thoughts of passion, it resides, Endlessly yearning, where solitude hides. In summer nights, when breezes softly blow, Under the cool, white sheets, awake I glow. Lost in memories, your essence I trace, Childhood innocence and foolishness embrace. Gazing at stars, lying on rooftop high, A shade upon my burning flesh, nearby. In pursuit of solace, my heart does roam, Seeking respite, in the stillness of home. Alone I stand, wherever you may be, Call out to me, let your voice set me free. I search for you, my heart yearns in pain, As my heart seeks me, in endless refrain. No destination, no path to tread, In this realm of loneliness, sorrow spread. This state of solitude, burdened with your grief, Neither living nor dying, seeking relief. Tell me, what shall I do, neither dead nor alive? In this moment's mercy, a flicker does thrive. This moment, once lost, where did it reside? Where was m

Once known as the 'Switzerland of India'.  In shadows cast by anguish,a tale of sorrow unfolds.  Of women in India,many whose stories still remain untold.  In the darkest corners of Manipurs streets.  A tragedy transpired, where sorrow and torment meets. Women,innocent and pure, faced a cruel fate.  Mass raped and killed, their lives stolen by hate. In the secluded heartland of Manipur, where beauty once thrived.  Darkness has descended, and innocence was deprived. Women were paraded stripped naked,groped and mauled by a disorderly mob. And happily these men lighted up a flash mob.  Those men hunted our bodies as war zones. They felt our chest throb through our broken bones.  Families tormented, haunted by the memories they bear.  Torn apart by sorrow, burdened with the weight of despair. Their cries suppressed, their lives cut short.  By a heinous act of violence, a world torn apart. The streets that witnessed their scream agony and cries.  Now bear the

It is during such solo trips that we completely transform and connect with our inner self.Some applaud me for following my heart whereas some give me lecture. But I take everything with a pinch of salt.My mother was the first to criticize me. Even today she recalls and asks me how I arrived kerala ancestral home solo at early morning 4am. Many of you may think what's the big deal. It's not one from where I come from. As i live in a developed city. But In states and village in India sleep by 10. How i took a taxi to come home at time.Only i knew of that ordeal. I sat for three hours at the railway station to until finally a good old uncle agreed to leave me home. He didn't take any fare but God I did get back one bag of scolding from. Because it's unsafe to sit there in a railway station. But when I told him it was not my mistake. He agreed.The process of knowing new people is the best part of solo traveling.While travelling solo Freedom is felt.We get to know our lik

“If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things through' narrow chinks of his cavern.”  If I got 15 rupee for every time in India I’d be rich.I would prefer to invest in people this money to have loving friend around me. I wouldn't trade it for the world.I would proudly announce that I'm rich with friends.Of course it isn't always easy to maintain,but taking the time to nurture a lasting friendship is worth every ounce of effort.As the years pass, some people will stay by our side, but many won't, and we realize that each friendship we keep is priceless.But sustaining good relationship with close-knit of friends can be challenging at the best of times.Especially when things take on a negative edge, competitiveness ,separate grouping and side-lining within a group can take root, causing some members of the group to feel left out or even victim

While I was impressed by her courage and grit, I was also bit sceptical about writing a blog post on it.In this post of mine,i will take you on a gripping,engrossing, exhilarating ride, chronicling Sushmita's courage, determination, and her ultimate escape from the clutches of the Taliban.Its a real narrative of a gutsy woman, she ran a dispensary in Sarana, Afghanistan and took care of Afghani womens health. When local People there were desperate to flee the country, Afghans were clinging to planes leaving the country and many falling off the planes.It is also important to note that her escape by to India and subsequent memoir primarily focus on her personal journey and the challenges she faced.Sushmita Banerjee was an Indian author who made a daring escape from the Taliban in Afghanistan nearly two decades ago.Her incredible story of survival and escape has been the subject of various media portrayals, including a TV show called "The Great Escape" and a Boll

Is the science fiction like the one depicted in the movie Terminator 2 a real concern that experts in the field are grappling with now?Or look at Ava the villainy robot in Ex Machina?Yes you heard it right by human standards, yes it was a villian.She betrayed the person who saved her from captivity and left him to die.Because she just didn't think about him when she had no further need for him.Or look at the movie A.I. Artificial Intelligence where a robot named David, a highly advanced robotic boy, longs to become a human child to regain the love of his adoptive mother who abandoned him. Is Cloud Artificial Intelligence (AI) really going to take over the World like this?Stephen Hawkings fear was that AI may replace humans altogether in coming future. He had also warned that the aggressive instincts of humans, coupled with the fast pace of growth in technology may destroy us all by nuclear or biological war, adding that only a 'world government' may prevent this imp

Wow, another day, another horrifying incident happens. Strangely enough,as a Culture, the public everywhere in the globe has been collectively shaming women always,simply for being a Women. More women tortured by women itself.  Some people in a cheering crowd called for her to be raped. M ost of the baying mob were women.. Many were women itself from different tribe. There were women present in the crowd…instigating the men to be more brutal with her. The alleged involvement of women has touched a nerve in a country that has long struggled to address gender violence. This only demonstrates the scale of internalized misogyny in India. It's truly disheartening and embarrassing too to see the Indian police failing miserably in their duty to protect citizens. This is a blatant display of apathy and it's high time justice is served. If fighting crimes against women is a fight of the female gender, women should have supported the girl…but they did not do that. Makes me feel so angry