Coffee Plants and Endless Thoughts!

"A blend of Andaman, Kanyakumari, with a dash of France curated on a plate." Simplifying SAKARÉ in one statement is no easy feat. However, because of the friendship Jenny and I share, I was privileged to get a sneak peek into her journey. SAKARÉ might have started in Bangalore, but I was introduced to it in a quaint little neighborhood in Chennai. A multitude of cultures has inspired Jenny and her passion for baking. Back in 2016, I met this quirky and charming junior from law school. We quickly realized we shared a common heritage in Kanyakumari, but nothing else seemed to align. Yet, over time, our shared interest in the culinary arts—an essential distraction from the rigors of law—and a few secrets I dare not reveal, fostered a deep mutual respect and friendship between us. From the humble shores of Andaman to the bustling streets of Bangalore, SAKARÉ’s journey has been anything but ordinary. Set in a brick house nestled in a serene green neighborhood in Bangalore, SAKARÉ ...

Tucked away in the quiet suburbs of Pallavaram, Chennai, Buddha Hut is a hidden gem that feels like a secret waiting to be discovered. Covered beneath the shade of a sprawling tree, the café radiates an old-world charm, with antique art scattered across its walls, setting a serene and almost nostalgic ambiance. The location itself is a bit of a mystery — not immediately visible to the passerby, but once you find it, you’re drawn into its warm embrace, away from the hustle of the city. For the past fifteen years, Buddha Hut has been a sanctuary for grilled sandwich enthusiasts. The food here isn't just about taste; it's about an experience. Every bite of the grilled sandwich is a slow, deliberate journey — the cheese oozes out in a perfect pull, melting effortlessly in your mouth, leaving you craving more. If you're lucky enough, you might be greeted by the café's resident cat, adding a homely touch to the already comforting atmosphere. The menu is refreshingly simple,...

It is the one thing we all have in common, the prize for being slaves to time. I know no art or heart, only words and words alone—empty, meaningless vocabulary crying out and withering in pain. The question that haunts me at this late hour is appalling: death is neither a beginning nor an end. Don’t we all die, but why? Why do we always question death? Is it life that accompanies death, or is death the consequence of life? I ponder aimlessly, finding neither answers nor the courage to seek them out. This burgeoning, evil bastard does not acknowledge our existence. Did we have a choice in birth, or do we have a choice in death? What have life and death come to? Some deaths kill us from within, and some deaths heal us. The deaths of others often end up killing us from the inside, yet the death of oneself is the one and only thing that heals. This futile state—this choice less, senseless phase called existence—seems meaningless. What is death? Who gets to decide death? Is death the only s...

The improbable convergence of "identity," and "life" in a single sentence seems almost surreal. Yet, against all odds, it happens. This past year has been a tumultuous journey, to put it mildly. I've battled demons from my past, grappling with thoughts that threatened to derail my career and obscure my sense of self. It was an ongoing struggle against my own mind, a battle where I often felt lost and adrift. I wrestled with shame and internal conflict, facing skepticism and even disgust from my own family. To provide context, I've decided to abandon discretion and speak my truth, both to myself and those around me. While I'm proud of the battles I've fought, today I find myself here—dejected, disappointed, yet somehow still grasping at shards of happiness, whispering to myself, "I'm proud, and it will be okay." In August 2023, I received a diagnosis of clinical depression. For two months, I denied that anything was wrong, struggling to ...

On December 16, 2023, a pivotal moment reshaped my life. It marked a resurgence of emotions after a prolonged absence. Acting on my friend's recommendation, I ventured to the Anna Centenary Library for a Pantomime titled "MIB A Space Comet-y." Despite Chennai's notorious traffic, I hurried into Auditorium 10 just minutes before the show, consumed by anxiety and nerves as I settled among unfamiliar faces. But before delving further, a bit of context: in September 2023, I received a diagnosis of clinical depression. It took time for me to muster the courage to discuss it openly. I underwent a grueling journey battling insecurities and forgetting the taste of happiness. I contemplated and even attempted what some might poetically term as "eternal sleep." Medication became my companion in coping with these struggles. I confined myself within the four walls of my room, finding solace there but struggling to step beyond. I was adrift in a sea of pain and confusion...

  Dear Mikee, 17 th September 2013     “Don’t hold back when the tears trickle down, because they will eventually dry out and you will smile. Smile with a true sense of happiness. The burden of the tears you hold back will outweigh the happiness after you let it run dry.” If you have this piece of paper in your hand, I want you to run into our hostel room and lock the doors behind you and hold it onto your chest and embrace it. I hope the warmth of my words can comfort you. They say it is always darkest just before dawn and I would like to reiterate that statement for you.   It is hard when the people around you don’t treat you like a human being. It is really hard to be deprived of basic dignity and love. I know you are struggling with the tag of being a liability to the school and being the last in the class. I know you failed your math exam over and over again and had to pass because they decided to show you pity. I know you hate attending so many remed...

A couple of days ago I lost my uncle due to a medical complication. He was 59 and absolutely did not deserve to leave this planet. He was one of the most wonderful human beings. He was the last flickering light in the salvaged history of my ill-fated family. A sibling to my mother, a friend to my father and the most supportive and positive person to anyone who ever had the privilege to cross his path. He was selfless even after death as he managed to make the lives of seven people who faced the uncertain call of death defeat it by donating his organs. He was selfless even beyond existence. I am lucky to call him my uncle.  He was perfectly alright on Sunday as he had lunch with my family and planned a mini vacation to our ancestral village in the coming months. He faced quite a bit of trouble growing up. The fall from grace of my family through history had put my uncle and his grandparents into the depths of poverty. Additionally, he had the responsibility of taking care of two s...

In my Monotonous, Meticulous, Miserable and Mad life, you were a ray of Hope. Like a candle that melted into darkness, I was slowly being stripped out of all the joy in my life. The heat of the flame caused a caustic reaction to the wax that burned outside. I was melting way into oblivion of gloomy uncertainty. My portly mind waned into madness. I was nearing the apocalypse as every last shred of Hope got slowly stripped away. In the midst of all the turmoil, you were the first ray of the morning sun, the heat of the spring after winter, the first drops of rain after a long summer and the first bloom after the brown autumn. You were my Hope! Your light shined upon me with all its glory. The birds in my life adorned the skies again. The trees in my life coloured the grounds green and the white sad snow melted away into a bed of lush green grasses. The succulent scent of the flowers sprinkled the ground with winged butterflies. I was happy and pious as your rays of Hope touched my wo...

As I write this with a sense of angst and contrast, my Dad is sleeping in the other room. I am writing about a journey that was not all joyous. As the clock moved slowly through time, I wondered about the consequences of my action, but I wanted to pour my heart out and leave no stones unturned. I was born when my Dad was 40 years old. Maybe that is where the problems started. He was not there during the entirety of my childhood as he was working hard to ensure that there was food on the table. He stayed away from my mother and me until I was four. My mother told me the story of the first time I met my Dad. I waited for him at the airport along with my mother and uncle. My mother showed me pictures of my Dad to ensure we got along correctly. Finally, the flight landed on time, and my Dad came out of the airport. He stood on the other side of the rail and faced me. I stared at him and him at me. He saw me for the first time and just stood there and looked at me. Finally, my mum asked, ...

The sun slowly rose across the horizon. I stood on the beach, swooning over the cold winter air as it crashed against my face. It was still dark as the orange hue slowly and steadily prodded through the morning sky. It had become a habit for me to come and observe the sunrise in the morning. The waves sang a tune of sorrow to complement the way I felt. I sat down in the cold sand, a few feet away from the waters and asked myself, Why Me? I felt the weight of the entire world on my shoulders. Unable to hold on to the flimsy little things in life. A burden of sorrow and the pain without joy hassled and harried my mind constantly. I could not do the simple things in life without a speck of grief and pain. I did not ask for a castle made of chocolates or a crown made of diamonds. I asked for a spark of joy and happiness before I lay down in bed to rest. I asked for a moment of peace before the sunset and dusk. Was it my frivolous past which I know nothing about, or is it me in the mome...

The word happiness can be interpreted in various ways. It is not merely a feeling but an interbeing. We often confuse happiness with its shrouded self-immolating deception. I will not lie that I have never fallen for its deception, but something wants me to keep going. My definition of happiness is different, and this is my pursuit of happiness. My happiness is Love. It is the most generic statement that I can make, but I stand by my words. I was born into a family where I did not belong to a particular generation. There was a huge generation gap between my parents and me. All of my cousins were way older than me. My niece and I were born one month apart. I was lonely and alone; my best friend was Winnie the Pooh. I could not establish a proper relationship dynamic with anyone. I was a chubby, socially awkward, insecure boy who had difficulty interacting with people. When we are at the bottom, there is always someone who will reach out to us and give us a helping hand. That is when...