The importance of Integrity

One great work of literature often conspires with another to proclaim the same set of ideas. Ideas that have inspired great thinkers for generations, ideas that have remained in place since the inception of mankind. Being as they are, in existence for countless centuries without the slightest of changes, they are no longer mere ideas. They are the fundamental truths that drive the immaterial essence of individual life – that which fuel the part of the soul which directs the individual in his life.

When I first read Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead, I didn’t have the foggiest of clues about the sheer power of the book.…

The Beacons are lit

Time makes haste. Years have seen their share of joy, interleaved with stretches of emptiness and pain, yet bearing the stamp of inspiration. The eye is now fixed on the future. Will the future be the past, or will it bring a new lease of power and vigour? The eye focuses with rapt attention, whilst the mind delves into the realm of the uncharted – flashes of the past, some things that are, and some things that have not yet come to pass.

Planet earth likens itself with a burning furnace. The cast iron now emerges, after dwelling twenty years in the furnace.…

Matters of the heart

The concept of gender equality happens to be one of the most alluring ideologies of our times. So much as it bandied about all around these days, it has been used far too easily as a power tool for the fairer sex. It is, in today’s cosmopolitan world a concept that has deviated a bit far from its noble, original ideas.

Women are undoubtedly the casualties of a male dominated society. That violence and oppression hinders women all around the world is a fact that besmirches all humanity. The inalienable rights of women to lead an independent, full life is in tune with the universal sense of justice.…

Hope springs eternal

John Keats – To Hope

When by my solitary hearth I sit,
And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom;
When no fair dreams before my “mind’s eye” flit,
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head!

Whene’er I wander, at the fall of night,
Where woven boughs shut out the moon’s bright ray,
Should sad Despondency my musings fright,
And frown, to drive fair Cheerfulness away,
Peep with the moonbeams through the leafy roof,
And keep that fiend Despondence far aloof!

Should Disappointment, parent of Despair,
Strive for her son to seize my careless heart;
When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air,
Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart:
Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright,
And fright him as the morning frightens night!…

Taking care of a marvel

There are so many wonderful features that nature builds into every human. Every living organism for that matter. The human body is nothing less than an absolute marvel. Not only is the human body one of nature’s most phenominal creations, it is also the best tangible definition of perfection.

That we know so little about our own bodies is truely unfortunate. That we regularly choose to insult our bodies through our acts of physical inaction and mental ineptitude is mournful. Most of us have a some understanding of the human body and what is right for it. But for some baffling reason, we often to do what is wrong for it and not pause to realise that we’ve done ourselves more harm than good.…

Here on a Mission

I sometimes wonder how I manage to gather the guts to ask God for more and more. There was hymn that we used to sing in school called ‘Count your many blessings’. If only I sing that hymn to myself and tell myself that the hymn is absolutely right.

Having a good home, incredible parents, a truly lovely sister and a childhood fostered in the care of magnificent grandparents are things that I ought to be eternally grateful for. Right through my school and now in college I have had the privilege of having a wonderful circle of friends and being under the guidance of some of the best teachers that one could possible ask for.…

Challenges of the transition years

Not too long ago, it so happened that I approached a teacher for a seemingly unconventional problem. Some may prefer to call it a sea of blues. Inability to concentrate fully in class, a study timetable in absolute tatters and an unrestrained, flaring temper were just a few symptoms. The aforementioned teacher, whose sagacity I deeply admire, looked up at me and considered me for a while. She then pointed the finger of suspicion on stress. The very idea of a student suffering from stress seemed ridiculous to me at that moment. But as I discovered at my own cost later, she was very much correct.…

Here I am

If most writing is a private affair, I daresay that some of it ought to be shared. I live in a world where there are mortals other than Ro – people that care for me and influence me.

So the time has come to call this my space, to transform all those wonderful ideas and experiences into words, all for the world to see.

Whilst remaining true to myself, I will write my mind – just me, myself and my thoughts, with no strings attached.

So watch me.