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“Lent, Nietzsche, and Gajar Ka Halwa: Ek Confused Seminarian Ki Prem Kahani with God”

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When Faith, Philosophy, AI, and Exams All Attack at Once There are two kinds of people in this world. One who start Lent with discipline. And one who start Lent with determination… and end it by giving up absolutely nothing. Guess which one I am. Lent has begun. The season of purification. The season of sacrifice. The season where people heroically give up chocolate, Instagram, or chai — and I sit there thinking: “Can I at least give up giving up?” Inside, there is this sincere urge to purify myself. Outside, there is gajar ka halwa. And somewhere in between stands my vocation, my existential crisis, and Friedrich Nietzsche laughing sarcastically in the background. Nietzsche Enters the Chat Let us talk about Friedrich Nietzsche . Ah, Nietzsche. The man who looked at Christianity and said, “God is dead,” and then watched Christians panic for 200 years. His criticism of Christianity was brutal, sharp, almost poetic in its cruelty. He saw it as a religion of weakness — morality built f...
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Death, Chapati, and the Hermeneutic Circle

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A Sick Student Reads Heidegger and Cries for hskdjfhkajhaftaaaraaaakjhfkfh - so many things Soooo… here we are. If Martin Heidegger were alive and saw me right now—half-sick, half-starving, fully confused—he would probably nod gravely and say: “Being-toward-death.” And I would reply: “Sir, right now I am Being-toward-chapati.” Because honestly, when you have fever, existentialism hits differently. You don’t think about ontology. You think about warm chapati with ghee. You think about your mother’s kitchen. You think about a place—where my aunty used to feed me G ajar ka halwa, biryani, and kheer like salvation itself. My God. If the gods hear this menu, even they will descend. Heidegger: Death Is the Only Certainty (Or Uncertainty?) Heidegger said death is the most personal possibility. No one can die for you. No one can outsource it. It individualizes you. Comforting. He calls it the ultimate certainty—yet the timing is uncertain. That tension creates anxiety. And anxiety, he say...
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Waiting for Meaning While the Days Refuse to End !

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  Hermeneutics, Headaches, Hope, and My Mother’s Food Some days feel like footnotes. Not chapters. Not even paragraphs. Just footnotes at the bottom of an already exhausting page of life. These are those days. Exams on the head. Philosophy in the veins. Coffee pretending to be hope. And time—time doing what it does best: passing painfully slowly . I am overburdened, not just with syllabi but with meaning itself . Because once you study hermeneutics, nothing remains innocent—not texts, not people, not even your own silence. Hermeneutics: Or, How Understanding Became a Burden Let’s begin where the headache begins. Schleiermacher politely told us: “To understand a text is to understand the author better than he understood himself.” Great. As if understanding myself wasn’t already difficult. Now I’m supposed to emotionally stalk dead authors too? Then came Dilthey , who said life must be understood from within lived experience . Suddenly philosophy stopped being abstract and star...
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Sooooooooooo Long, Guys! — On Exams, Existence, and the Illusion of Settling

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Sooooooooooo Long, Guys!  Yes, I’m Still Alive Hello, people. What’s up? I genuinely hope everything is fine with all of you. I know—it’s been long . Very long. I can almost hear you asking, “Where did this fellow disappear?” Before you file a missing-person report, here’s the truth: exams happened. And before that, my birthday happened. And after that, exhaustion happened. Now, finally, the exams are over, and I have returned—slightly older, slightly wiser, and significantly more tired. The Great Myth of “Getting Settled” You know what I’ve realized, guys? We never really get settled. Ever. We like to believe that after a certain moment—after a certain degree, job, salary, or title—life will politely calm down and let us breathe. That moment never arrives. Life keeps bombarding you with new challenges, new responsibilities, new uncertainties. Just when you think you’ve figured things out, life changes the question paper. That, I’m afraid, is the brutal truth of existence. Discipli...
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The Present which is the Past..........

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  A Year That Begins with Headaches, Heresies, and a Stubborn Hope This year does not begin with fireworks. It begins with a headache —specifically, Latin . Declensions, conjugations, dead verbs refusing resurrection. Latin does not ask whether you are interested; it simply assumes discipline. It is the perfect metaphor for this year: submit or suffer . I choose both. This is the year I want to make a new start —not the Instagram kind, not the motivational-poster lie, but the uncomfortable kind. A year of discipline and focus , where hard work overtakes everything else. Not because I am certain, but because uncertainty has failed to stop me . I am ready to do whatever it takes to follow my vocation—to become the one I am called to be. I guess everyone is expected to do the same, but very few actually mean it. There is a strange, burning desire in me to do something no one has done yet . And yet, paradoxically, there is also a desire to be normal , to not always go out, to not alw...
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This Year, My Heart Stayed Elsewhere !

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A Question the Year Keeps Asking Me Just tell me—this year, when you go, will you come back the same? Will you return like the same breeze, the one that feels like home even before it touches the skin? Because my heart is no longer with me. It is not even pretending to be independent. My heart has quietly moved into you . It waits. Patiently. Almost stubbornly. This year alone. My heart behaves strangely now. It does not speak to anyone. It does not negotiate. It does not explain itself. It remains silent, loyal, and fixed—only in youuu. Can anyone even speak to a heart like this? This year. Writing as I Miss Her As I write this blog, I miss my grandmother deeply as I am so far from her. Her absence is loud. Her teachings have become a mirror I can no longer avoid. Every decision, every failure, every hesitation now asks me one brutal question: Have you become what she hoped you would be? This year has truly been a year of memories—both gentle and painful, comforting and cruel. Many le...
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A Dialectic of Knowing, Laughing, and Liberating

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Philosophy Walks into My Life  Philosophy did not enter my life like a gentle teacher. It entered like an intrusive relative who comes without notice, questions everything, eats your peace of mind, and then refuses to leave. I did not choose philosophy. Philosophy happened to me—slowly, stubbornly, and with an irritating sense of moral urgency. So when philosophy walks into a bar, it is not alone. It carries human anxiety, historical wounds, political anger, childhood questions, classroom confusions, prayerful silences, and the unbearable weight of asking why in a world that prefers obedience over understanding. The bartender asks, “Why the long face?” Philosophy replies, “Because reality contradicts itself, knowledge keeps changing its story, the mind does not know where it ends, light cannot decide what it is, and liberation is still waiting in a queue.” The bartender nods. He has heard this before. We all have. This blog is not an attempt to solve philosophy. That would be ...
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