Infinity is Zero

In the beginning, there was nothing. And the universe was at peace. Then, in a tiny little planet, the first speck of life dared to rise.

It was a microscopic tit-bit, floating in a volcanic ocean that itself floated inside a universal void. It was the first time the universe created something different from itself. The first time “self” stood apart from the infinite. Until then, there had only been an endless oneness – a vastness with no boundary, and no need for a definition. But with that first trembling speck, a boundary was drawn – organic from inorganic, self from other, life from death. And with that line began the greatest journey of all – the journey away from the universe, or back to itself?

The Rise of the Self

As life evolved, it perfected the art of separation. The smallest microscopic life had the beginnings of “senses”, but no real free will.

Trees arose, rooted deeply into the earth, connected to each other through hidden mycelial webs – but still a part of the universe, each other, and the soil. It was impossible to tell where the roots ended and the soil began.

Animals tore away from the soil. They became mobile, hungry, and alert, their sense of ego sharpened. The need to preserve the “self” grew, even if it meant killing another. Senses directed action. There was independent thought, and independent life. Loneliness arose for the first time.

And then came humans, the greatest masters of separation. We did not just eat or move – we named, owned, enslaved, created, passed on, immortalized. We built layers and layers of meaning, identity, and culture. The “self” swelled into something monumental, at time even monstrous.

What began as a single boundary between organism and universe became a fortress of ego. Life was separated from the universe, and learnt to exist in isolation.

Entropy

The same story played out at the cosmic scale. The universe began with unity. In the singularity of the Big Bang, there was no space, no time, no matter. A pure point of nothingness, and everything. Then expansion came, and with it, structure. Galaxies, stars, planets, and eventually life. Order emerged – but so did disorder. Entropy, the measure of chaos, became the law of the cosmos.

But entropy has only one conclusion: return.

After the last stars burn out, when the last black hole radiates disintegrates into the last photon, the universe will dissolve into a flat, silent void. No gradients, no forces, no distinctions. No space, no time. Just like the moment before the Big Bang. The beginning and the end are mirrors. Entropy, in its final maturity, is not chaos but peace. The heat death of the universe is nothing less than liberation into nothingness – moksha.

The Greatest Sin

Religion confirms. In the Garden of Eden, when all was innocent, humanity’s fall comes through knowledge. Eating the fruit of knowledge separated man from God, and the self from the universe. Awareness was exile. From that moment, humanity had to labor through suffering, history, and civilization in order to earn the way back. The arc of the Bible is not one of progress, but of return – from paradise, through alienation, back to paradise.

Eastern traditions echo the same rhythm. Buddhism sees ignorance not as a lack of knowledge, but as clinging to it. Enlightenment is not accumulation but cessation. The Upanishads insist: you are not this body, nor this mind, nor even the knowledge you think you hold. “Neti, neti” – not this, not this – until all that remains is the silent whole – the atma.

Christianity calls it God, Buddhism calls it nirvana, Vedanta calls it Brahman, Physics calls it the void – all point to the same: the loss of self, the loss of knowledge, the return to the universe.

Mathematics

Mathematics, too, encodes this riddle. Zero and infinity are opposites, yet they reflect each other. Divide by zero, and the result is infinity. Push infinity down into infinitesimals, and you arrive at zero. The circle closes.

Calculus thrives on this paradox: the infinite steps that converge into nothingness, the infinitesimal fragments that sum to infinity. In both directions, the human mind meets a wall. Beyond that wall, there is silence.

Gödel’s incompleteness theorem whispers the same truth: a system can never explain itself fully. Knowledge can never complete itself. The supreme knowledge is the recognition of its own impossibility – which is to say, the supreme knowledge is surrender.

Language

If knowledge is exile, then language is its first weapon. To name is to divide: this from that, me from you, sacred from profane. Language lifted humanity out of the ocean of being and gave us history, philosophy, and law. But it also tore us away.

And yet, in its deepest wisdom, language knows its limits. The Upanishads fall into silence at the highest truths. Zen teachers use paradox and nonsense to unhook the mind from words. The Tao Te Ching begins: “The Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao.” At the summit, language bows out.

Technology – our latest flowering of language and logic – carries the same irony. Algorithms divide us into ever-narrower selves, yet they also weave us into one global consciousness. The cloud is a strange prototype of the cosmic mind. We are building the machinery of separation, only to find that it mirrors the unity we lost.

Psychology

Individually, the story repeats. The infant begins without separation – no sense of self, just raw immersion. Slowly, the ego develops, boundaries harden. The child learns to say “I,” and exile begins. The adult becomes a fortress of memory, desire, identity. But through meditation, through surrender, the layers can be peeled away. Enlightenment is not discovery but return – a child’s innocence regained, but now conscious.

Even in modern science, psychedelics and neuroscience show us that the sense of self is not permanent. It can dissolve. People feel most “alive” when they loose a sense of self – in art, in work, in love. And when it does, people report the same thing sages have always said: oneness, unity, peace.

The Paradox

Here is the paradox. To return to nothing, we must strive. To dissolve knowledge, we must use knowledge. To lose the self, the self must make the effort. Scriptures, philosophies, even this essay, are ladders. They are meant to be climbed, only to be discarded.

Zen calls this the finger pointing at the moon. Useful, but not the moon itself. The Bhagavad Gita calls it nishkama karma – action without clinging to the fruit. One must build the self in order to let it go.

The entire story of life, of civilization, of the universe, is one great detour – a spiralling journey away from the whole, so that the reunion may be conscious. Without separation, no return. Without exile, no homecoming. Without knowledge, no surrender of knowledge.

The End is the Beginning

The first speck of life arose as a division. The last breath of the universe will dissolve that division. The alpha and the omega, the aadi and the anadi, are one and the same.

Everything we call history, knowledge, civilization, progress, is nothing but the journey back to nothing. The trees knew it by remaining still. The animals forgot it in their hunger. Humanity complicated it into philosophies and scriptures. But in the end, all paths lead back to the same ocean.

When the last black hole sighs into emptiness, when the last thought ceases, when the last name falls away, the circle will be complete. Nothing will remain. And the universe will be at peace again.

The Harbour Line - Chhakke

I first heard it long before I saw her: two sharp claps, disjoint echoes reverberating through the carriage, cutting through the drone of conversations and the clatter of steel wheels. In an instant, phones slipped into pockets, chatter trailed off, and commuters lifted their heads. That double clap is the Chakke’s signature herald: an auditory beacon announcing their arrival and commanding a respectful hush.

She stepped aboard with the easy confidence of someone born to these rails. There was no plea in her outstretched hand - no tremor of shame - only the quiet insistence of a sovereign demanding her due. As she advanced down the aisle, most passengers reached into their wallets without a word. Ten and twenty‑rupee notes fluttered into her palm, offered willingly as if buying not charity but a shield against the day’s coming storms.

After each offering, she pressed her fingers lightly against the donor’s forehead: first across the brow, then near the crown, bestowing a blessing in place of thanks. That invocation felt like a small benediction, a private moment of grace amid Mumbai’s relentless hustle. For a heartbeat, the city’s frenzy: the screech of announcements, the glare of overhead lights, the crush of bodies, receded. Commuters closed their eyes, savored that sacred pause, then watched her glide onward, hand outstretched to the next passenger.

Legally, Hijra - India’s third gender - gained formal recognition in April 2014, when the Supreme Court declared that fundamental rights must extend equally to transgender citizens, granting them self‑identification and reservation in education and employment. Yet social acceptance lags far behind legal mandates. Many Hijre are cast out by family and community, leaving them with few options beyond traditional roles: blessing births and weddings, begging (‘dheengna’), or surviving as sex workers (‘raarha’).

In most Indian cities, the Hijra who turn to sex work face harrowing violence: routine police extortion, forced unprotected encounters, and the threat of arrest under antiquated laws like Section 377. This often leads to a hardened culture where the Hijras try to harass the society back. The asking for alms is not just a voluntary assertion of existence; it’s a fight for acknowledgement. A 2018 study found that police in Mumbai and other major cities regularly extort transgender sex workers, driving them to riskier practices that heighten HIV and other health risks. Yet on the local trains, you’ll never see a Chakka raise her voice or brandish a threat. They recognize a head‑shake for “no” and simply step away - an unspoken code of respect that Mumbai’s commuters have learned to honor.

That silent understanding is hard‑won. Mockery is a line that cannot be crossed: laugh at them, whisper jokes, or snatch away their dignity, and you’ll feel the chill in their gaze - a quiet fury more unnerving than any shout. But decline to give, offer only ridicule, and you risk more than social censure; you risk scoring an enemy who carries her community’s collective memory of every indignity ever suffered.

Each morning on the Mumbai trains, the Chakke transform the carriage into a living theatre of resilience. Their presence is woven from the crazy stupid things that the city demands - dancing for small fees at neighborhood weddings, reciting scripted blessings for what feels like pocket change, or offering companionship for an indeterminate cost. These aren’t desperate acts; they’re assertions of identity, fierce declarations that even at society’s margins, they deserve space, respect, and recompense.

Beneath those claps and blessings lies an entire social universe: guru‑chela households governed by elders (gurus) who provide shelter, guidance, and rudimentary education in Hijra Farsi; clandestine networks that circulate news of police crackdowns, safe routes through the city, and sources of donated food or clothing; and informal collectives that offer legal referrals and crisis support for those facing violence or eviction.

When the Chakka step off at the next station - two soft claps of their shoes on the platform - there’s a collective exhale. Phones reappear, conversations resume, and the carriage returns to its usual din. Yet something fundamental has shifted. Each blessing, each ten‑rupee note, has been a tiny act of rebellion: a refusal to be erased, a ratification of personhood in a city that often reduces its inhabitants to numbers and deadlines.

In Mumbai, a city defined by motion and survival, these moments of stillness matter, Chakke remind us that dignity is not a passive entitlement but a fragile covenant, maintained by countless small exchanges. Their morning rounds are more than a plea for alms - they are a testament to the human capacity for resilience, community, and quiet defiance in the face of systemic exclusion. And in that suspended second - when a palm meets a forehead and the carriage falls silent - you glimpse the true pulse of this metropolis: a heartbeat that sings, against all odds, for every soul brave enough to claim it.

Law, Order, and Justice

Anyone who has ever walked into an Indian courtroom knows this uneasy truth: the words law, order, and justice do not mean the same thing. They are thrown together as if interchangeable, but in practice they are strangers forced to share a bench.

If Indian courts were truly justice-giving, cases would not crawl across decades, suffocating under technicalities, adjournments, and appeals. A judge would weigh reality as it is, not as codified in procedural limbos, and deliver a verdict that feels holistic, human, and final. But such a judge, in India, would go mad! Justice is impossible in this system, so judges confine themselves to the narrower task of law – a safer, more bureaucratic, less human project.

Law is not justice. Law is not even order. Law is codified philosophy. It is aspirational, telling us what should be, without bothering to ask “how?” Law is the poetry of command, detached from the actual mess of enforcement. Its function is not to be true or practical, but to be repeatable.

Law was not designed for justice. If it were designed for justice, then the world would have found justice in fifty thousand years of human history. But injustice continues. Even the person reading these words right now has faced some kind of grave injustice in their own lives. So we can be sure that law does not serve the purpose of justice, nor was it designed to do so.

Order is a different beast. A violent riot may break the law, but even its mere existence disturbs order. A police firing on rioters may be lawful, but it still violates order. Restraint in retaliation may cause legal or illegal outcomes, but it maintains order. Courts and police ultimately serve order, because order is what keeps society tolerable. Justice has nothing to do with it.

Here lies the greatest confusion: the courts of India routinely proclaim that they are guardians of law. They do not and should not claim to be administrators of justice – even though their judges are called “Justices” and the institution itself is poetically named the Nyaypalika – literally, the dispenser of justice. But this is a fraud of language. The reality is less grand: the courts uphold law, and sometimes they help preserve order. Justice is not their concern, nor could it be. At best, justice may be an unintended by-product. English strips away the illusion – a “court” is just an arena of argument. The Hindi word promises a moral universe; the English word promises only a stage. And we continue to expect justice from institutions that were never designed to provide it.

Recent remarks by a member of the Prime Minister’s Economic Advisory Council have exposed other facets of this linguistic fraud. Calling the judiciary as the biggest hurdle in the path to a developed nation, he pointed out that inside a courtroom, judges are addressed as “My Lords” and a request is inevitably termed as a “prayer”, effectively elevating judges to a God-like status. This institutionalization of devotion to a procedural body has been a dangerous game that has been played for far too long.

The result is tragicomic. Citizens enter a courtroom seeking justice. What they receive is law – delayed, distorted, and sometimes denied. The court does not concern itself with truth, only with procedure. Reality does not matter; compliance does. The courtroom is a theatre where the illusion of justice is maintained, because the myth is more stabilizing than the truth.

Justice itself is not the natural order of the universe; it is an artificial human invention. The lion does not apologize to the deer. The predator does not negotiate with the prey. Nature knows no justice. Only humans invented it, and having invented it, we fail to uphold it. Why persist in the lie? Better to accept the world as it is – Random. Brutal. Unfair.

What courts actually provide is not justice but a controlled illusion of justice – a spectacle of procedures, robes, and rituals that convinces society the game is fair. Without this illusion, order might collapse. Perhaps that is why we cling to the fraud of language; why the Nyaypalika must continue to pretend it dispenses justice, while in truth it only recites law.

The Assault: The Government has taken notice, and is not sitting quietly. The 130^th Constitutional Amendment proposed the removal of a Prime Minister or Chief Minister after 30 days of arrest without a trial. This signals a brutal truth – the country no longer needs courts to stand in its way. Due-process is expendable. Trial is optional. Accusation is conviction. Even though the government lacks the numbers to pass such a bill in the parliament, it has sparked a debate: is the judiciary dispensable?

In the same vein, recent amendments to the Code of Criminal Procedure and the Prevention of Money Laundering Act allow for restitution of personal property without conviction, i.e. the government can sell-off an accused’s property without while the trial is still pending. The court’s verdict is no longer the final instrument.

The President of India has in a recent public statement called for exams for appointment of judges rather than the conventional way of collegium recommendations, similar to how bureaucrats are selected. She has overlooked the fact that in this country, the bureaucracy is notoriously infamous for being the first line of corruption. In another speech, the retired Chief Justice Ramana has noted that the faith of the public in the judiciary is eroding.

The Government seems to be creating space for a debate on whether the judiciary is really a necessity for the county, or must such a flawed judiciary be dispensed with altogether? Right now, the only argument in favor of the judiciary seems to be “what is the alternative?” Ironically, this is the same argument used to support a self-proclaimed non-biological divine minister by the same government in absence of a legitimate opposition. This government has also been notorious for delegitimizing institutions such as investigating agencies and the election commission. The judiciary may be the last thorn in its path.

The Proposal: Let us be honest. Let us abandon delusion. Let the courts no longer be called Nyaypalikas. They are Kaanoonpalikas – keepers of law. Let the judges shed their presumptuous title of “Justice.” They are Law Aspirants. This would at least cure us of the false hope that walking into a courtroom means walking into justice.

If we could dare to rename our courts, our judges, and our expectations, perhaps we could finally stop confusing law with justice, order with fairness, and illusions with truth. Until then, the great deception continues – theatrics of justice without justice, performed daily in the name of law.

Honesty is more revolutionary than ritual. Let’s stop calling it justice when it is merely law. Let the raw power run naked. Strip away the illusion, confront the chaos, and create meaning without the crutches of myth.

Cracks in the IBC – A reflection on the BSPL judgement

Imagine putting your house on sale. A buyer pays the full price – clears your dues, installs a brand‑new kitchen, repaints, even moves in with family. Four years later, a court declares the sale null and void. Sounds absurd? Welcome to India’s Bhushan Power & Steel crisis under the Insolvency & Bankruptcy Code (IBC).

On May 2, 2025, the Supreme Court of India quashed JSW Steel’s ₹ 19,700‑crore resolution plan for Bhushan Power, calling it “illegal” and in direct violation of IBC provisions. Instead, it ordered liquidation – sending shockwaves through India’s insolvency regime.

Observations of the Supreme Court:

1. Non‑compliance with Section 30(2)/31(2) – The Court said the plan failed to strictly meet IBC norms
2. Misuse of Section 61 appeals – JSW used it beyond permitted grounds, turning judicial relief into a tool for delay
3. Delay in payments & use of instruments – Payments delayed up to 900 days, with equity infusion replaced by optionally convertible debentures – seen as dishonest
4. Failures by RP and CoC – Both allegedly failed in career duties and commercial wisdom by approving a flawed plan

But let’s be frank. If after four years, hundreds of crores invested, liabilities cleared, and operational revitalization. If you can still wake up one morning to a cancellation order – then what hope remains for asset sanctity under IBC? Sure, courts must protect law sanctity. But there must also be a limit to retroactive nullification.

1. Uncertainty kills investment – With buyers fretting over court reversals, distressed asset buyers – especially foreign funds – will step back .
2. IBC’s spirit undermined – The Code was designed to revive assets via resolution, not liquidate them after court reversals. Liquidation recovers far less – on average ~6% versus 40+% from JSW’s plan
3. ED’s unnecessary role – The Enforcement Directorate shouldn't have appealed to the Supreme Court. This invokes Section 238 (IBC override clause). ED’s interference derails IBC norms
4. NCLAT was competent – The NCLAT rightly approved the JSW plan, post NCLT clearance. There’s precedent and a statutory framework supporting such hierarchical decisions. The Supreme Court negating that sets a dangerous precedent

If corporate buyers, domestic or foreign, shrinking from acquiring distressed assets for fear their deals might be reversed after years, the entire architecture of the IBC collapses. The mantra of time‑bound resolution, creditor recovery, and commercial certainty risks turning into hollow catchphrases.

Imagine citing section 33, section 230, or even 31 as final – but investors see that as paper shields, not armor. Contingent assets don’t attract funding, bids dry up, NCLTs become graveyards of stalled insolvency filings.

So what’s the path ahead?

1. Clarity on appellate limits – If appeals under Section 61 can scuttle deals years later, build bright‑line rules limiting their scope.
2. Section 238 must speak louder – If IBC overrides criminal laws, let that precedence be asserted – no mid‑stream ED appeals to stall processes.
3. Statute of repose – Once a resolution plan is fully implemented – payments made, assets handed over – there should be a cut‑off for retrospective scrutiny.
4. Corybantic judicial humility – Courts must balance legal perfection with the economic realities of revitalizing a stranded asset. Too much scrubbing can kill the asset’s commercial value.

Yes, rules are rules. But when they compound to incubate uncertainty, they defeat their own purpose. Fixing defaulted firms is not writing fairy tales – it’s engineering. Engineering needs design parameters, timelines, fail‑safes and finality. Cancel deals four years later, and you don’t engineer hope – you implode it.

The Bhushan Steel episode may have taken an ideologically purist stand; but it ends up being a warning shot for future bidders in India’s insolvency ecosystem. If sanctity of sale is illusion, who will keep the IBC alive?

I, Phone

“We can only see a short distance ahead, but we can see plenty there that needs to be done.”

– Alan Turing

I. INTRODUCTION

1. The new Direct Tax Code, 2025, allows tax officers to access a taxpayer’s “computer system” during a search, which is defined to include remote servers, cloud servers, and virtual digital spaces. If a password or access code is not provided, officers can "override" it to gain access.
2. The “virtual digital space” includes a wide range of digital environments including email servers, social media accounts, online banking and trading accounts, cloud storage platforms, digital application platforms etc.
3. The said powers, in their current form, fail to recognize that in the modern era, a mobile phone is not merely an object or tool, but an extension of the person – integral to livelihood, identity, communication, privacy, and access to justice.
4. Multiple investigating authorities – including but not limited to the Income Tax Department, the Enforcement Directorate, and Police Authorities – now routinely seize mobile phones, laptops, and storage devices during searches and surveys.
5. While such powers may have been conceived as mere procedural tools, in practice, the seizure of a person’s phone today is equivalent to seizing the person himself, or worse.
6. A person deprived of his phone in the 21^st century is stripped not only of communication but of his ability to transact, identify himself, access his finances, run his business, and even defend himself legally.
7. The consequences of such seizure are not temporary inconveniences but existential disruptions that strike at the heart of Article 19(1)(a), Article 19(1)(g), and Article 21 of the Constitution.

II. THE PHONE AS AN EXTENSION OF SELF

8. The Hon’ble Supreme Court in Justice K.S. Puttaswamy (Retd.) v. Union of India (2017), recognized that the right to privacy is intrinsic to life and liberty under Article 21, and extends to informational privacy. Today, that informational privacy is materially embodied in the smartphone, which stores the intimate digital self of every citizen – communications, photographs, health data, bank accounts, professional records, social interactions, and behavioural patterns.
9. The dependence on mobile phones is not a matter of luxury or convenience.

1. Businesses are run entirely on mobile applications – banking, accounting, client communication, and commerce.
2. Government services such as Aadhaar, PAN, DigiLocker, and GST compliance are mobile-linked.
3. Bank accounts and payment gateways (UPI, net banking) require phone-based authentication.
4. Social media and messaging platforms are the principal channels for professional engagement and public expression.

10. A recent Supreme Court judgment has already recognized that access to the Internet is a right and necessity in the modern age, not a privilege (Anuradha Bhasin v. Union of India, (2020)).
11. In a country where legal tender itself can be demonetized suddenly overnight, the ability to communicate, transact and adapt through the phone becomes vital for survival.
12. Therefore, the phone today is not a mere communication device. It is an instrument of livelihood, an identity token, and an economic engine.
13. Empirical surveys confirm that more than 70% of Indian MSMEs depend on smartphones for day-to-day operations. Women entrepreneurs in rural areas report 80% mobile-first dependence. Entire informal sectors – delivery, retail, logistics, and service providers – operate solely through mobile applications.
14. The economy of small traders, gig workers, digital marketers, influencers, and local service providers operates exclusively through mobile devices. Seizure of such devices not only cripples the individual but destabilizes economic micro-units that rely on continuous phone access.

III. SEIZURE EQUALS VIOLATION OF SELF

15. The act of seizing a smartphone is not akin to seizing a book or a file. It is akin to seizing the mind and memory of the individual. The data within represents thoughts, correspondences, and intentions. Extracting it without consent violates the principle that no person shall be compelled to make an involuntary statement against himself, protected under Article 20(3).
16. The argument that “the phone is merely property” ignores technological and social reality. When a phone holds one’s identity, bank access, and private communications, its seizure becomes an intrusion into the self.
17. The seizure of phones has a chilling effect on:

1. Freedom of speech and expression (Article 19(1)(a)), as individuals become fearful of their private communications being accessed.
2. Freedom to practice any profession or carry on trade (Article 19(1)(g)), as businesses lose functionality upon phone seizure.
3. Personal liberty (Article 21), as the deprivation of a phone amounts to a deprivation of autonomy and informational control.

18. The Direct Tax Code, 2025, provides no meaningful procedural safeguards – no clear time limits, no data minimization principles, and no protection against fishing expeditions into unrelated digital material.
19. The result is a structural imbalance: the State gains access to the totality of a person’s digital being, while the person loses his ability to function, communicate, or defend himself.
20. The relationship between man and machine has evolved to the point where the boundary is indistinct. The phone acts as the human’s external brain – a memory, diary, and financial control system combined.
21. Popular culture reflects this symbiosis. The film Khel Khel Mein (starring Akshay Kumar) dramatizes how the entirety of a person’s secrets, social identity, and reputation exist within his phone – and how loss of it destabilizes the self.
22. Therefore, in both law and lived experience, the phone is not separable from personhood.

IV. RIGHT TO PARTICIPATE IN LEGAL PROCESS

23. It is a settled principle of law that an individual has the right to join proceedings against him, to consult counsel, and to present his defence.
24. Today, such participation frequently requires online access – for video hearings, document submissions, OTP-based verifications, communication with counsel, or even simply appearing before the court.
25. Depriving an individual of his phone during investigation directly impairs this right to effective legal representation, violating principles of natural justice.

V. PRAYER

26. The provisions of the Direct Tax Code, 2025, and other statutes that permit seizure of digital devices and extraction of personal data be read down to require:

1. Prior judicial authorization;
2. Proportionality and necessity tests;
3. Time-bound custody limits; and
4. Independent oversight mechanisms.

27. It be declared that a mobile phone constitutes an extension of the self within the meaning of Article 21 of the Constitution, attracting the highest standard of privacy protection.
28. It be further declared that seizure or access to mobile data amounts, in appropriate circumstances, to compulsion of self-incrimination under Article 20(3).
29. The State be directed to frame comprehensive guidelines governing digital device seizures, including data protection, return timelines, and business-continuity safeguards.

VI. CONCLUSION

In an age when the phone embodies identity, livelihood, and thought, to seize it is to paralyze the person. To access its contents is to trespass upon the mind. A law that allows such acts without proportionate safeguards violates the constitutional promise of dignity, privacy, and liberty.

Haystack

We had the meet yesterday

I connected with a lot of folks

Faces, handshakes, glasses raised,

names I’d forget

But all these networking events

are something in a haystack problems

And I instantly searched for that One person

who wasn’t there.

 

One person who I was confident I would recognize

even if I had a little glimpse of her somehow

One person I had no idea what to say to

One person I just wanted to raise a toast to

and say “thank you”

One person I wanted to have a full-fledged conversation with

and wanted to know how her journey had been

Because I know no one understands her like me

and me like her

And I wonder if she longs to be understood like I do

I don’t even know if she wants to have that long conversation with me

I don’t know if I’ll be able to recognize her

Has she gotten fit? Has she gotten fat?

Maybe she doesn’t need to talk to me

because the man she chose

understands her better than I ever could

Maybe she wants to talk to me about how she feels unloved

because I’m the only one who would understand

Maybe she wants to elope with me

 

All these are hypotheticals

Assumptions

Fictions I rehearse in the theatre of my mind

It’s been five years

The only thing I can be sure of

is that she has changed

She’s not the girl I knew last

Even if her face were recognizable

I don’t know if her soul is

A man loves a woman hoping she’ll never change,

and she inevitably does

A woman only loves a man who changes for her,

and he rarely does.

 

Maybe I wasn’t searching for her,

but for the version of myself

that only she knew

 

Vishal Gupta

11^th May, 2025

Delayed Gratification

Masturbation is one of the most universal and paradoxically unspoken human behaviours, particularly among men. Depending on which study you cite, anywhere from 70% to 95% of men masturbate regularly, with frequency peaking in adolescence and early adulthood. In a 2017 survey, over 70% of urban Indian men admitted to regular self-stimulation. Global surveys like the National Survey of Sexual Health and Behavior (US) show that men aged 18–29 average 3–5 times per week, with frequency gradually tapering but never quite vanishing.

In short, masturbation is a routine part of male life. We give it time, focus, energy, and attention. It becomes enmeshed in our daily rhythms, serving various purposes: relief, distraction, boredom, stress reduction, or just plain physical urge. It doesn’t require planning. It doesn’t ask for permission. It slips into the background of our lives so smoothly, we stop even noticing it. And maybe that’s the point where it deserves to be noticed.

I’m a 34-year old man. And like most men, I’ve masturbated almost daily for years. My patterns have varied, less when I’ve been in relationships, more during isolated phases. Sometimes for desire. Sometimes for sleep. Sometimes for nothing at all.

But then, a few weeks ago, I just stopped.

There was no vow. No challenge. No calendar mark. Just... a pause. Initially, I felt the familiar pressure – the itch to reach for the old reflex. But I didn’t. Not out of strength, but apathy. A few days passed. Then a week. Then two. And suddenly I realized something strange: I didn’t even want to do it anymore.

But that wasn’t all. Alongside the abstinence came a series of changes – subtle at first, and then undeniable:

• My focus sharpened. My thoughts became clearer, my memory crisper.
• I began feeling more present, more sensitive. Not in a reactive way, but in a conscious one.
• My body held more energy. Not jittery. Just available.
• There was restlessness too. A kind of coiled fire. Not frustration, but a drive I didn’t quite know how to channel.

There were also physical sensations – a slight ache – the so-called "blue balls". But even those passed. The longer I went, the easier it became. It wasn’t willpower anymore. I just called it a new habit. But as I dug deeper, I realized that it was something more elemental. It was a sense of reorientation.

Curious, I began to read. And what I found startled me – not because it was shocking, but because it gave words to what I had already started feeling:

1. Dopamine Reset: Masturbation, especially with porn, floods your brain with dopamine. Done frequently, it can lead to desensitization. Abstaining allows your receptors to reset, restoring your baseline sensitivity to pleasure and motivation.
2. Testosterone Surge: Some studies show that abstaining for around 7 days can cause a short-term increase in testosterone – linked to drive, assertiveness, and vitality.
3. Energy Transmutation: Many men report that sexual energy, when not released, gets converted into creativity, ambition, and physical performance. I felt this too. That restless energy began to fuel workouts, ideas, words.
4. Emotional Rewiring: Masturbation can be a form of emotional regulation. We reach for it when anxious, bored, sad, or just tired. Without it, those emotions have to be felt. It’s uncomfortable at first. But over time, it builds emotional muscle.

For something so common, masturbation is almost never discussed, especially in Indian culture. It's joked about in hostels and among teenagers, but serious, nuanced, non-judgmental conversations are rare.

And yet it’s an inherent urge. Testosterone kicks in at puberty. Fantasies begin. Exploration happens. It’s natural. But when does nature become habit? And when does habit become compulsion? That’s where the line between physical need and addiction appears. There are a few common signs of dependency:

• You need porn to feel anything.
• You masturbate multiple times a day and still feel unsatisfied.
• It becomes your default stress release.
• It replaces emotional connection or real intimacy.
• It affects sleep, productivity, or social life.

This isn’t just about semen. It’s about dopamine loops, shame cycles, and escapism. Going without doesn’t make you a monk. It makes you aware. Your mind clears. Your instincts feel stronger. Your self-control grows – not in repression, but in presence. You stop being tugged by impulse. You start owning your direction.

In his book “Secrets of Shiva”, Devdutt Pattnaik talks about how Shiva's controlled abstinence gives him cosmic power. He's not celibate out of fear – but because his energy is focused inward. In Hindu mythology, abstaining creates heat – tapas. The rishis practiced it. Shiva embodies it. There are even incidents such as Hanuman and Rishi Bharadwaj’s accidental ejaculations, displaying that abstinence keeps men in a state of perpetual “on the edge”. It also means that these men are always hyper-aware and active. Always at the pre-orgasmic awareness.

Abstinence doesn’t kill desire. It charges it. It makes you alert. Watchful. Deep.

I’m not advocating lifelong abstinence. This isn’t “NoFap evangelism.” I’m not saying masturbation is bad. It isn’t. In moderation and with mindfulness, it’s healthy and enjoyable. But I do think we’ve become too passive with our own impulses. And when you go without, you begin to see:

• Emotional clarity
• Energy reserve
• Rebalanced dopamine
• Rekindled motivation
• Heightened desire – not constant stimulation, but focused hunger

However, there are risks associated with total abstinence as well. Irritability, aggression, sleep disturbances, loneliness, and emotional bottlenecking (if not expressed elsewhere) are common risks of abstinence. The solution isn’t to ban yourself or indulge endlessly. The solution is to ask, “why am I doing this right now?”

If the answer is boredom, stress, or avoidance – pause. If the answer is conscious desire – go ahead. The act doesn’t define you. The awareness does.

This journey didn’t start as a resolution. It started with noticing. Noticing how much of my energy was automated. How often I reached for comfort instead of connection. And how that small shift – of doing nothing – changed the way I relate to everything.

You don’t need to go cold turkey. You just need to be conscious.

Because sometimes the most powerful thing a man can do is not act. Not because he’s weak.

But because he’s finally awake.

Tingles

The room hums with silence.

A stillness that presses—thick, unyielding.

Soft light spills through the window.

Golden. Faint. A caress on the floor.

Her shadow sways—alone, restless.

The air feels alive—watching her.

A breeze slips in—uninvited.

Cool fingers graze her neck.

She shivers—small, involuntary.

Her hair shifts—brushes her collarbone.

She adjusts her stance.

Feet bare on cold wood.

A quiet rebellion—standing still.

Something waits—beyond the walls.

Her pulse taps—soft, a secret rhythm.

The clock stares—relentless, mocking.

Each tick a thread pulled tight.

She exhales—slow, controlled.

A floorboard groans—distant, alive.

Her head snaps—sharp, alert.

Nothing moves.

Yet the room breathes.

The air shifts—sweetens, thickens.

A scent creeps in—subtle, bold.

Leather. Earth. Smoke. Him.

Her lips part—dry, trembling.

She tastes it—feels it first.

A ripple—deep, beneath her ribs.

Small. A flicker of heat.

It coils—lazy, patient.

Her fingers twitch—empty, seeking.

She steps—hesitates.

The window calls—night presses in.

Stars blink—cold, indifferent.

Her reflection stares back.

Wide eyes. Soft mouth.

A stranger—aching, alive.

The clock drags—each second a weight.

Her chest rises—falls, uneven.

A shadow stretches—darkens the doorway.

Tall. Broad. Unrushed.

Her throat tightens—air turns sharp.

Eyes lift—slow, daring.

They crash into his.

Dark. Deep. A storm held still.

Her chest blooms—hot, tight, alive.

He stands—rooted, silent.

Not a word.

Not yet.

But she feels him—everywhere.

A current hums—unseen, fierce.

Her skin wakes—prickles, hums.

A step—boots thud on wood.

Heavy. Deliberate. Sure.

Her ribs cage a frantic beat.

The space shrinks—walls lean in.

Her spine stiffens—defiant, fragile.

Another step—closer, inevitable.

Her breath stumbles—catches, holds.

A memory sparks—his voice.

Low. Rough. A growl in the dark.

She’d laughed once—free, unguarded.

His grin—sharp, rare, hers.

It flickers—burns in her mind.

She blinks—fights the tide.

Loses.

He’s near—too near now.

Heat rolls off him—wild, untamed.

Her heart kicks—caged, desperate.

Fingers graze her arm—light, testing.

She flinches—skin ignites.

The touch stays—slow, claiming.

Her edges soften—melt, blur.

Fear tangles with hunger.

A sigh slips out—soft, jagged.

He shifts—closes the gap.

Breath brushes her temple.

Warm. Steady. Alive.

Her knees buckle—betray her.

The room spins—tilts, fades.

Her hands clench—nails bite palms.

She smells him—close, consuming.

A thread snaps—deep, hidden.

He leans—slow, deliberate.

Lips hover—near, not touching.

Her pulse roars—hot, deafening.

A pause—cruel, endless.

She trembles—raw, exposed.

His gaze pins her—sees through.

Her walls crack—quietly, completely.

A whisper: “Mine.”

She gasps—shatters.

 

Vishal Gupta

25 March, 2025

Ik Onkar

“We all said even though that ideal wasn’t always observed, that was the right ideal to have.”

– Barack Obama

 

In the midst of a battlefield, a distraught warrior asks his charioteer how navigate the chasms of his soul…

In a palace, a wise king asks a deformed sage about the nature of reality and bondage…

In a dream, a wizard asks his departed mentor the meaning of his journey…

 

A vibration trembles across creation. Not a word. Not a noise. A remembrance. Echoing before the first thought.

 

Ik Onkar…

The One. The First and the last. The primordial sound of the universe. The first sound that ever was. The last sound that ever will be. A tower of fire without beginning or end. The cosmic microwave background. He is consciousness. He is the soul of the universe. The circumpunct. The One

 

Sat Naam…

Ana al-Haqq. Altheia. Tao. Truth. The one truth. The only truth. Truth is all there is

 

Karta Purakh…

He is the creator. He is the creation. He is the Architect. He speaks. He sings. Kun Faya Kun – Let there be…

 

Nirbh-a-o-Nirvair. Akaal Moorat. Anjoonee Saibhn…

Beyond fear. Beyond hate. Beyond time. Beyond space. Beyond birth. Being. Always was. Self-preserving. He is the source code behind all things. The logic before the language. The silence before the song. Everything Everywhere All at Once.

 

Gur Prasaad. Jap…

He can be discovered as a grace of the teachings. We endlessly recite only his name. We remember only his tale. We constantly think of him when we are thinking and we think of him when we are not thinking. We devote to him.

 

Aad sach. Jugaad sach. Hai bhi sach. Nanak Hosee bhi sach…

He is the only truth since the beginning. He is the only truth over time. He is the only truth right now. He will be the only truth in the future. He is Sanatan. He is Tathagata. He is that is. Eru Iluvatar. The Force. The Source.

 

Sochai sauch na hovae, je sochee lakh vaar…

The impurities of the mind cannot be purified by thoughts, even if you think for a lakh times. Neti, Neti – the path to realizing is to unrealize all that isn’t. Fanaa – annihilation of the self.

 

Chupai chup na hovae, je lao rahaa liv taar…

“You’re waiting for something… maybe your next life.” Stillness is part of the way, not the way itself. The chatter of the soul shall not be calmed by silence, even if one stays quiet forever

 

Bhukhi-aa bhukh naa utree, je banaa puree-a bhaar…

The hunger shall not be satiated, even if all material desires are fulfilled. This is Trishna. This is Naf. The insatiable craving. The greed of dragons. The One Ring. The things you own that end up owning you. For what good is it to gain the whole world?

 

Sehas si aanpaa lakh hoh ta, ik naa chalai naal…

Bhagya. Fate. All the world’s a stage. I can possess all the wits of the world, it will not lead to my desired outcome

 

Kiv sachi-aaraa ho-ee-ai, kiv koorhai tutai paal…

So what is the path to truth? How do I break the falsehoods? How do I know moksha from maya? How will the truth set me free? How do I overcome the ego? How do I awaken to reality? What lies beyond the veil?

 

Hukam rajai chalnaa, Nanak likhi-aa naal

There is only one path to truth. To follow his order and to walk his path. That is the only path I can travel. That is the only path there is. Accept.

Tariffs, Deficits, and Politics

The latest wave of tariffs announced by the Trump administration comes wrapped in the language of fiscal prudence. Senior officials and Republican leaders have argued that tariffs are necessary to “reduce the debt” because of America’s deficit. Some of these tariffs are even calculated using formulas tied to trade deficits with individual countries.

There’s a problem here – a simple but glaring one. A trade deficit is not the same as a fiscal deficit.

The fiscal deficit is the gap between what the U.S. government spends and what it earns. That gap is bridged by borrowing, which accumulates into the national debt. This debt-to-GDP ratio is indeed alarmingly high, and it does weaken long-term fiscal health.

But the trade deficit is something else entirely. It’s just the difference between imports and exports. A U.S. trade deficit doesn’t mean the country is “losing.” It simply means Americans are buying more from abroad than they are selling. Often this is a sign of strength: higher incomes, foreign capital, stronger consumption, and a currency so trusted that foreigners are willing to accept it in exchange for goods. In fact, countries like Germany and China, which run surpluses, often do so by suppressing domestic consumption. The U.S. has run trade deficits for decades, yet its living standards, innovation, and global clout have remained unmatched. So to punish trade deficits as if they’re inherently “bad” is misguided economics.

Tariffs will not fix the fiscal deficit. They may raise a bit of revenue, but in the face of trillion-dollar budget gaps, that’s a rounding error. And tariffs won’t reliably fix the trade deficit either – they simply make imports more expensive, which hurts American consumers and often shifts supply chains rather than reducing imports overall. At best, tariffs create short-term political optics, not long-term economic fixes.

The rationale grows murkier when it comes to India. Washington has justified new tariffs on the grounds that India imports Russian oil, claiming this indirectly funds Moscow’s war on Ukraine. But the reality is more complicated. India refines much of this oil and sells the products onward, often to Europe and even Ukraine itself – effectively reducing global energy costs. Punishing India for this arbitrage makes little sense. In fact, it risks pushing India into deeper alignment with Russia.

What explains these contradictions? Economics clearly isn’t the guiding principle. Tariffs serve a political purpose: they create the optics of toughness, they provide a simple enemy narrative (“China steals jobs,” “India funds Russia”), and they appeal to domestic voters even if the economics are dubious.

The result is a policy tool wielded less like a scalpel and more like a blunt club. The U.S. may present tariffs as a cure for deficits, but in practice they are little more than populist theatrics – a confusion of definitions masking an absence of coherent strategy.

India’s 7.8% GDP Growth: Looking Beyond the Headlines

India has just reported a real GDP growth rate of 7.8%. On the surface, this looks like a remarkable achievement for a developing economy. But scratch beneath the headline, and the picture becomes murkier.

The reported nominal GDP growth is 8.8%, which implies that inflation for the quarter has been pegged at just 1%. This raises several concerns:

1. For a high-growth developing economy like India, inflation tends to hover in the moderate-to-high range; 1% seems statistically out of step with reality
2. Neither the rupee’s depreciation w.r.t. other developed currencies, nor commodity prices suggest such a low inflation figure
3. Only a month ago, inflation was reported at 2.3%. A quarterly number of 1% implies massive volatility in measurement, which is unusual unless methodology is questionable
4. By underreporting inflation, real GDP growth is automatically inflated, giving an exaggerated sense of economic expansion.

Further, low inflation often correlates with high unemployment. If inflation is truly as low as reported, it could indicate that demand is weak, wages are stagnant, and employment creation is lagging – not the picture of a booming economy.

The GDP number is also being used as a political response to Donald Trump’s recent jibe, calling India a “dead economy.” While 7.8% growth seems to counter that narrative, the comparison is misleading:

• Growth vs. size: GDP growth (the rate of increase) is not the same as GDP (the absolute size). India can grow fast from a lower base while still being far behind developed economies in real output.
• GDP per capita problem: Despite being the 5^th (or 4^th depending on whom you ask) largest economy by GDP, India’s per capita income remains low. Growth does not translate into high standards of living.
• Skewed distribution: Putting the top1% of the population aside, the effective GDP per capita for the remaining 99% collapses from ₹ 2.58 lakh to around ₹ 60,000 – a more realistic indicator of average living standards. 

In a nutshell,

1.      India’s GDP is not as high as it looks

2.      Inflation is understated

3.      The prosperity is unequitable

This narrative is a dangerous one. We are now saying to the world that we don’t mind misreporting economic figures for political mileage. Think of countries where economic indicators are not reliable – Ethopia, North Korea, South Sudan. Now we are heading in that direction. But yes, we have a 7.8% growth, which is good for a developing economy. Yay!

PMLA 8/8 - National Herald

"Give them bread and circuses and they will never revolt" – Juvenal, Satire X

 

November 2012. Subramanian Swamy filed a private complaint in a Delhi court alleging that Sonia Gandhi and Rahul Gandhi have committed a fraud.

The allegations pertain to a company started by Jawaharlal Nehru with 5000 freedom fighters in 1937. The allegations had elements of fraud, land grabbing, usurping of shares, and spanned over decades. We need not go into the details. The courts didn’t.

What is relevant is the progression of the case under the aegis of the Enforcement Directorate (ED), the Prevention of Money Laundering Act, 2002 (PMLA), and the Indian judicial system.

What is relevant is, that Swamy filed a case in November 2012 against the Gandhis. The case found media attention under the name National Herald.

 

August 2014. The ED initiated a probe to discover if there was any money laundering in the case.

Curiosities begin. (1) The ED’s investigation is usually built on a predicate offence, i.e. an FIR – not an ongoing court case.

(2) Media reports show the date of initiation of ED proceedings as 01-Aug-2014. However, the ED mentions that the investigation started in 2021, i.e. after an income tax probe in the case. This runs contrary to the fact that the ED had already started the process of raids and attachments in 2019.

(3) The timing is interesting – right after a new government took office. Coincidence? Or it was the herald of times to come.

(4) The Enforcement Directorate closed the case quickly, citing technical reasons. Of course, there was no predicate FIR to build on.

(5) Soon after, the head of the ED was replaced.

Meanwhile, the petition filed by Swamy dragged on.

 

September 2015. The ED reopened the case under a new chief.

 

2015-19. Period of silence. Interestingly, there were no national elections during this period.

 

May 2019. The ED attached properties worth Rs. 65 Cr at Panchkula and Rs. 16 Cr in Mumbai. Headlines screamed. One particular news anchor hyperventilated. Swamy got prime-time slots in all major channels. But attachments are not convictions. They are just paperwork with drama.

 

June 2022. Rahul Gandhi was questioned by the ED for 50 hours over five days including nine-hour marathon sessions without breaks. The ED reported that Rahul Gandhi avoided responses to 20% of the questions saying that he was feeling too tired. Journalists camped outside the ED office like it was Bigg Boss. Congress workers were detained outside the ED office. The headlines said that democracy was safe.

 

July 2022. Sonia Gandhi, 75, was questioned by the ED for 11-12 hours over 3 days where she answered about 100 questions. The agency had initially given Sonia Gandhi the same dates as Rahul Gandhi, but her questioning was deferred after she tested positive for Covid-19.  

 

Meanwhile, the petition filed by Swamy dragged on.

 

November 2023. The ED attached and took possession of assets worth Rs. 751 Cr and has been taking the rent from the properties in its own account. However, none of this money reached the citizens or victims.

 

April 2025. The ED filed a Prosecution Complaint (PC or chargesheet) against Sonia Gandhi, Rahul Gandhi, and Sam Pitroda in the case.

Normally, when the ED files a chargesheet, it first arrests the accused and makes them go through the rigors of bail provisions of PMLA. At least that’s what Swamy seems to think.

A person cannot be arrested till the conclusion of the trial if the chargesheet is filed before the arrest. And as we have seen, the probability of a trial concluding in a person’s lifetime is pretty bleak. By not arresting the Gandhis before filing the chargesheet, the Gandhis were given practical immunity from arrest.

The only way the Gandhis could be arrested now was conviction after trial. But a hurdle was yet in the way. Before the trial could even begin, the court had to take cognizance of the ED’s chargesheet.

 

In a side-show of TV drama, BJP workers marched towards the Congress office in Chandigarh to protest against the chargesheeted party, and the police used water cannons on them – visuals everyone remembers.

 

April 2025. The Delhi court refused to take cognizance of the chargesheet filed by the ED, citing the change in rules when the CrPC was replaced by the BNSS in July 2024. There were procedural demands to be fulfilled under the new law.

There was now a situation when the chargesheet had been filed, but could not be taken cognizance of. The newspapers reported ecstatically that the ED had done their job. The Gandhis could not be arrested. Swamy was livid.

 

July 2025.  Swamy withdrew his petition. Since PMLA rests on a predicate offence, the ED case also collapsed.

 

This mirrors the larger pattern of PMLA cases: ED raids. Headlines scream. Opposition cries. Government smiles. Years pass. Nothing. The ED kept claiming “major breakthrough” every few years, but nothing concrete ever happened. The Congress portrayed it as political vendetta, BJP as “cleaning up corruption.” Both sides milked it for narrative, no one cared for justice.

The National Herald case didn’t convict anyone. But it did convict the public – to years of endless noise and zero justice. Just a reminder that in India, cases are weapons, not solutions. The only winners? Headlines and TRPs.

 

 

July 2025. The ED filed a chargesheet against Robert Vadra, before arresting him.