Here for writing

I rarely engage in social media. My feed is mostly full of quotes and pictures of the Masters, yoga videos and cat/dog other animal videos. The posts that I put up will either be related to yoga / vedanta / special needs. To preserve my own sanity, I have unfollowed people who post either extreme left or extreme right posts, posts that glorify / demean religion or caste etc.  One cannot deny that social media has tremendous power in shaping people's opinion, give a glimpse of lived experiences of those whom we otherwise may not come across in real life, provide a platform for everyone to voice their side of the story, raise awareness of issues that are not spotlighted by main stream media etc. It is a wonderful tool, a great boon to connect people across the world, it can broaden our horizons...basically it has unlimited power. And we all know that it is a double edged sword. I am not going to get into the pros and cons of social media.  Instead, I would like to s

There is so much rage within.  A rage born out of frustration. A rage that is always simmering because of the inability to be myself. A rage that is also fed by the fact that what I am going through is nothing when compared to the sufferings of others. And also a rage at the social conditioning that makes us feel our sufferings are not valid because it is always compared to what the "others" go through.  There is still very little conversation about post-covid recovery. And this lack of conversation led me to believe that all that I was experiencing was in my head. Well, now I am slowly understanding that it is not just in my head. It is real. I don't want to talk much about my covid story here. Nothing remarkable about it. I tested positive on June 6, 2020 and was in home quarantine till June 22, 2020. I had mild symptoms and did not experience any breathlessness whatsoever by God's grace. I slept away the first week of quarantine and was counting down the days