Sami the Mindful Scribbler

 Today is the last day of this year. The last day of 2025. First of all, I’m happy and proud that before this year completes, I have begun writing a blog, and till now have written 13 blogs, writing on alternate days. Initially, it was a bit difficult, but later it started exciting me, and at times when I felt low, pouring these thoughts into words really helped. So, as my friend Rangineetha mentioned in her blog, we are quite happy for having taken this decision, and once again, we would like to thank Rufus sir. As we have come to the last day of the year, I would like to talk a bit about recapping the year, concluding it with hope and waiting for the new year. It feels surreal. This year, the first four months were spent in our UG final year, and it was one of the hardest periods, both physically and emotionally. Research projects, department events, commitments, semesters, feelings of separation from friends, and preparing our minds for the new chapters of life. With mixed emoti...

Sorry for not showing up in the morning with my blog as per my routine. But I couldn’t, due to personal reasons. I never thought taking our parents to the hospital would feel this heavy. All our lives, our parents have taken to hospitals for fevers, injuries, countless worries and we can’t really feel what they feel in those situations  What does it feel like to see your child suffer? To see them intaking number of tablets? To watch them become passive, disturbed, and helpless? To see them being passive and disturbed. And today, I felt that. Being a child and seeing our parents getting health issues (could be anything—from a fever to a major issue) —but to see them suffering really feels heavy. Going to the reception counter, filling the form, going to a number of floors in order to get consultations, waiting for an hour outside the scan centre, trembling and waiting for the result, only to hear that the result will take one day. And the fear continues. Having been consoled by them...

 This blog is going to be a short one. As I’ve already written a blog on my visit to Valluvar Kottam and Egmore Museum, this one is going to be about a person I met at the museum. (The image used here is AI-generated from his actual picture). So, my friend and I, once we spotted the National Art Gallery building, before going in, thought of clicking some pictures.Near the entrance, people were already there. One was a family of four, whereas we saw another person who looked like a tourist and had come alone. Once the family went, he occupied the place and tried clicking some pictures. That’s when he saw us. He asked me whether I could take a picture of him, covering the whole building and him. I love taking photos, and it comes very naturally to me. But when someone asks me to do it, I would get stunned for a second, thinking whether they will like the photo or will I be able to satisfy their expectations. But yes, I did it. When I showed him the pictures I took, he tried to commun...

       Hello, first of all, I would like to wish everyone a Merry Christmas🎄, as I'm writing this at 12 a.m. Today I’m going to talk about what happened two days back. So my school best friend and I have known each other since class 11. During our first year, we went for a proper outing. After that, very rarely did we get to meet each other, as our ways were different. Living on the next street, yet we meet only twice or thrice in a year. That too would go as a chit-chat and yummy food session, but not really a proper outing. But for the last six months, despite chaos, we get to meet often, as we are travelling on the same path. So finally, after such a gap, we planned an outing. It’s not as you think, like Pondicherry or Kerala. But to Egmore, and that itself is a win for us 😁. Let me try to pen our one-day experience in Valluvar Kottam and Egmore Museum.      The same us The same energy The same laughter  On our way to Valluvar Kottam Really? ...

Even the idea of talking about plants today makes me feel excited. That’s how much I love plants.It was not really a sudden attraction or love towards them. Since childhood, I was always surrounded by plants and trees. When we were taught that plants are living beings, being a child, it was overwhelming. Like humans, they too are living — that fact itself was just amazing.Since then, I started observing them closely, the diseases they get, the signs that show when life is slowly leaving them, all of this I understood through science, keen observation, and childhood curiosity. I remember when we bought plants for the first time, I named them. One of my teachers told me that plants can respond to us. So every morning, once I woke up, I would share a small talk with them. Even thinking about it now feels cute, and the same excitement is still alive. Even in the town where we were brought up, there wasn’t much of a flat culture. Houses were usually in the centre, surrounded by trees on bot...

She is not my paternal or maternal grandma. She is the one who helps mom with the house chores.We call her Patti. We never really had the experience of having a helper. But I have seen people around me who had—and still have. In many places, the way helpers are treated has always bothered me. In our previous flat, our neighbour had a woman who was around 35 years old working as a helper. She had a daughter studying in the 10th standard. Many times, I noticed the girl sitting near the staircase, reading some book without even lights, while her mother would be inside the house cleaning vessels.One more disturbing thing I observed was that they used to remove their slippers near the parking area itself. I don’t know where this started from.Is it discrimination from the owner’s side, or is it the inferiority complex or trauma they might have faced that makes them accept and react this way? Coming to our Patti—we’ve known her for about 3-4 years. She was once our neighbour. From a distance,...

Over the last one week  we have been engaging with a poem titled 'Rabbi Ben Ezra' by Robert Browning. So our professor shared his personal experiences, how his close people crossed the old-age stage and how he made them embrace that difficult phase happily with his love and support. I was reminded of the poem that I wrote about OLD AGE. If you haven't read it, you could find it on my blog,give it a read. So not everyone accepts that phase easily. It could become a happy journey if there are people like our professor, who become parents for them, who spend time with them, who are ready to listen to all their tantrums, yet pour only love. And we, as adults, are going to encounter that stage in some years. Before that, the worst thing is that our parents — who have been our pillar since we were born  are going to need support soon. No old age homes, no luxury hotels, no nurses could give that support except us. As I’ve seen this quote on Instagram —  “They ( parents) too are...

Yesterday felt complete. Because my favourite professor presented me with a diary Because it was the last offline working day Because all the classes were fun Because the last hour was a group activity Because it was rain and sunset together Because of the giggles And the unbearable belly laughs. Yesterday was special. Was it so special? Wasn’t it ordinary? No, it wasn’t for the last six months. Though it rained, Though both the sun and clouds coexisted, Though we, as friends, were together, Yesterday felt different—real, genuine. The old energy is back. The moment we realised It’s still the same spark, The same bond, The same charisma, The same love is Alive between us. Yesterday was special. Another win is Having made a plan out of a WhatsApp group, And actually executing it amidst heavy rain. Having tried new snacks Without running behind time and the bill, Eating them all, Fulfilling the inner child’s stomach and soul. Having taken selfies Despite being shy and awkward. Yesterday w...

    As I promised, I have come up with a review of the film Aaromaley Before I begin, I would love to give a short introduction to my movie-review journey. I have been doing this for the last one to one-and-a-half years. As the people around me know, I love watching films, and that’s when I thought — why not write reviews? For cinephiles, after watching a film, they can’t resist sharing it with their friends or with anyone they talk to. So the film doesn’t end with the end credits; it continues as a performance, as it is shared from one person to another. Now I’ve decided to write a few reviews under my blog now and then. I’ve lost a bit of touch, but I hope I’ll get back on track soon. So this isn’t going to be perfect.  Here, Aaromaley is going to be the first film. This film is directed by Sarang Thiagu, starring Kishen Das, Shivathmika, VTV Ganesh, Harshath Khan, and a few more. The music is composed by Siddhu Kumar. This man has literally taken us back to those Harr...

 Hello, I’m short of content today. I was really confused about what to write. I thought of writing about cinema and its role in my life, but that’s like a baby’s babbling which will never end. With that topic, I can write a number of blogs. But today I wanted to be particular about something . Maybe, Love? Our generation, especially cine lovers, have gotten to know what love is after watching some modern classics like Vaaranam Aayiram, VTV, Alapaiyuthe, and so on. But is it always that cinematic? Love at first sight? Rain at the first meeting? Saying “I love you” all of a sudden? Yes, these expectations are reasonable. As we are exposed to such mediums, it’s common to have them. But it’s not always like that. Love need not be always spontaneous.At times it might be boring but it's part of it. It includes care, respect space, understanding, and so on. When your 'person' feels 'uncomfortable' sharing their past, and you understand it and don’t force them to talk abou...

  Sorry, is it really a big word? I mean, does it hold that much weight in it? A few realise and utter that word wholeheartedly. Whereas most of us just say sorry to escape from a situation. I have seen people who don't listen to what the problem is, but come up with a weapon called ‘SORRY’. So by uttering this, do they mean they wouldn't do it again at all? But for that, one should’ve listened and then realised his/her mistakes. Even one person's effort in a family can heal the wounds and prevent new wounds from forming. Most of the time in a family, asking sorry isn't a problem but how they say it matters. As already mentioned, children need to be listened to. No matter how mundane it is, they want all the ears. And they expect a response. When we can't do something, or we have hurt them, we have to realise that asking sorry matters here. Yesterday, I was returning home from the railway station. It was around 8 pm. I saw a woman probably around 30-year-walki...

It feels really beautiful  and overwhelming when your elder brother revives the child in him. For that moment, he isn’t an adult — the one with a hundred thoughts running through his restless mind. He slowly hides, at times even forgets  his grown-up version, and stoops to his younger self. This time, even more responsible, caring, loving, and admirable. But I’m not in that place                      it’s another baby now, yet the one who pampers it  is the same Brother. The same dimension, but at a different age and after so long. No matter what, the child in us still lives.             We realise it, especially when we are with children. He’s no exception, though I once thought he was!

Aging Is aging fine? Losing your loved ones, Losing your balance over your body, Losing things around you, Losing memory, Losing yourself one day. People say — embrace oldness. But is it easy for all? For the one who cannot walk who once was running, For the one who cannot taste anymore their favourite food, For the one with no money left to buy, For the one with no strength to carry the weight of sorrow, For the one who feels their very existence might hurt. It is difficult. Not everyone crosses this stage happily. Some live with fear — that one day they will vanish not only from life, but from memory too. Yet, no matter what — their presence, their love, their care, their anger, their possessiveness, their sweetness — will remain as pieces that still glow, in a place time cannot touch.

Say and Do, Not only the spelling of these two words differs, But the meanings do too. Only One in a million Doesn’t know the difference, Whereas others, The whole population — Know what the word “Say” denotes And what the word “Do” denotes. Yet we just pretend, As if we are great actors. It begins in childhood, Gets worse in adulthood, And in old age, A few realise and succeed, Whereas others regret And find it difficult to cope. It all starts with small promises. We used to say, “I promise you, Mom,” But with the left hand, Or By twisting the middle and Index fingers, So that those words are just words, not action. So Say & Do isn’t a new thing for us. It grows As a habit, Or develops as A trait itself. It should be pruned like a weed in a plant, But instead, pesticide is sprayed, And we fail to remember that  Any day it's unhealthy. Adulthood worsens it. Food, fashion, fitness, studies, and life choices — Everything makes a cameo. At times, I wonder, Are we really being acto...