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Viktor E. Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning is more than just a book; it is a profound philosophical and psychological journey that speaks directly to the essence of human existence. Written in the aftermath of his harrowing experiences as a Holocaust survivor, Frankl’s reflections on life, suffering, and the search for purpose have a resonance
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One of my friends asked me the other day, “What’s the use of books when AI exists? What’s the point of reading books? You can get all the information you want at the click of a button. So why do you read books? Why do you write, too? Books will be irrelevant in 5-10 years.
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I love you in the quiet moments,not for the words you say,but for the silence you share. I love you even when you stumble,for how you always rise again. I love you in the spaces between breaths,where time seems to pause,and we exist,without masks, just us—raw, unfiltered, real. I love you in the laugh that
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We wander through days, tracing lines on blank maps, hoping for patterns. What’s the point of it all, we ask the silent sky, waiting for echoes. Some find meaning in love, work, faith, like lanterns in the dark. But for most, it’s a maze of shadows, corners turning into corners. Lucky are those,those with stars
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In the realm of powerYou may think you reign,Finding joy in causing people pain.But like an arrow, time flies,And those who are silenced today,Tomorrow, they may rise.So treat others the way,You would like to be treated.For who knowsWhat, in life, lies ahead.Spread compassion, Not hatred,For you can never knowThe path you may have to tread.Cherish
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In the rhythm of routine, we drift like a stream, Mechanical motions, a life or a dream? Pause, oh, weary heart, let introspection gleam, Is this journey we tread merely a scheme? A dance with the mundane, a scripted play, Lost in the echoes of each passing day. Yet life, a fleeting moment, slips away,
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In the tapestry of life, we weave our threads,Sowing seeds of kindness or planting weeds.It’s not the money or titles that define our worth,But the footprints of kindness that we leave on the earth. It’s not the wealth amassed or the power we hold,But the love we give, the stories untold.In the ledger of time,
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Even as we ingress into another year, the threads inside my head have already started weaving cogitations. As we find ourselves tangled in the mess that is life, how can we make sense of it all? As we randomly roam through the valleys of emotions, how can we determine which rides are worth taking and
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One fine day,In a land so wide;A child’s eyes widened,With joyous pride. To the zoo they went,Excitement in the air;A place of wonder,With creatures rare. Amidst the cages and enclosuresThey saw a majestic scene;An elephant, grand and mighty,Standing in a space so serene. The child’s heart raced,As he saw the giant’s grace;A creature of tales,In
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In the vast tapestry of history, Artificial Intelligence has emerged as a double-edged sword, akin to Prometheus’ gift of fire. On one hand, like the heavenly flame that empowered humanity, AI has illuminated the path to progress, bestowing unprecedented knowledge and efficiency. On the other, much like fire’s destructive dance, AI has brought forth challenges
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In a world where voices clamour loud,And expectations form a heavy shroud,Choose to tread your path alone,Living life on terms of your own. For the crowd may beckon, try to sway,But follow your heart, come what may. In the dance of life, find your own song,And sing it proudly, all day long. Paint your canvas
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The Quest for Essence 