My Head In the Clouds

A journal of emotion, thought, and being

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  • Fragments of Me

    Part 1- Beauty Is Not a Luxury, It’s a Language

    From fashion and home decor to architectural marvels and natural landscapes; I’ve always believed that beauty lives in the details. Maybe it’s the Libran sensibility in me or the years immersed in the world of fashion, either way, beauty feels stitched into the very fabric of how I see the world.

    The old saying, “Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder,” rings true for me. Sometimes my husband doesn’t quite share my delight over a Louis Vuitton window display in Dubai Mall or the quiet thrill of adding a fine piece of cutlery to my kitchen drawer. But that’s the magic of beauty: it’s deeply personal.

    However, what truly moves me isn’t always the celebrated or obvious. I find myself drawn to quieter, less curated beauty- the sacred hush of stillness in a place of worship, the breathtaking shimmer of Austria’s ice caves, the cool silence of Zlatibor’s limestone caves, or the emotional seismic shift felt descending into the shadowed depths of Cappadocia’s underground city.

    Yet at other times, beauty refuses to be subtle. It bursts forth, wild and untamed- dolphins racing alongside our boat in Musandam, giraffes licking raindrops off our car windows at Six Flags Wild Safari, or penguins waddling home beneath Phillip Island’s starry skies.

    Then there’s the beauty I discovered through my life in fashion; the kind that doesn’t sparkle at first glance.  I feel it when a seasonal range slowly comes together or when a mood board finally reflects the story I’m trying to tell. I see it in the steady hands that bring a garment to life or in fabric mills where endless threads are being spun with machines humming in gentle rhythm. In those moments, beauty stops being just what walks down a runway and becomes everything that leads up to it.

    It is in this interplay of grand and everyday, wild and calm, crafted and natural, that I find the heartbeat of beauty. It has a quiet way of showing up when we least expect it. Where have you recently found beauty speaking to you in unexpected places?

  • Part 2: Pages, Phases & My Bookish Rituals

    Ever since I visited my friend’s book club event, I’ve been flooded with memories of the stories, characters and genres that enthralled me through my childhood and early adulthood. So, here’s a nostalgic little detour, a post dedicated to the books I devoured, the quirky rituals attached to them and the fondness that still lingers.

    📚The Enid Blyton Era
    It all began with Enid Blyton.

    Famous Five kept me company on long, bumpy school bus rides. Noddy added its dose of whimsy and Secret Seven fed my love for adventure. Malory Towers made such an impression that I ended up gifting the entire series to my niece (because joy must be passed down). My eyesight didn’t thank me for those late-night lamp reads, but my soul did as my mini library grew not brick by brick, but book by book.

    🕵️Comics, Capers & After School Splurges
    Then came Tintin and Asterix & Obelix, equal parts wit and adventure. Archies, though, was my guilty pleasure. At the end of every school term, I’d splurge my prize money on a trip to the bookstore just to snag an Archies comic. Honestly, no amount of OTT remakes (Riverdale or The Archies) can compete with the joy of those quirky characters living their best lives in ink and colour.

    🔎Mini Thrills & Mysteries
    From Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys, I graduated to Sidney Sheldon, Agatha Christie, Colin Forbes & Lee Child. Each novel was a ticket to suspenseful nights, wide-eyed mornings and the occasional “just one more chapter” lie.

    ✨Magic, Vampires & Midnight Reads
    No list is complete without J.K. Rowling. Harry Potter didn’t just make me read; it literally made me walk. I once trudged miles through gloomy Edinburgh rain just to find the “Elephant House” cafe, where Rowling dreamed up the wizarding world. Now that’s what I call commitment.

    Then came Twilight, arriving like a storm- moody, mysterious and just dangerous enough to pull me headlong into its world of vampires.

    ❤️Romance, Drama & Big Fat Sagas
    Romance snuck in with Mills & Boon (no judgment, please). Soon thrillers joined the party, and Nora Roberts who masterfully blended both, became a lifelong favourite. Jeffrey Archer’s Kane & Abel, As the Crow Flies and later The Clifton Chronicles were unforgettable. I got a chance to attend the launch of The Clifton Chronicles in 2016 in New Delhi and see the man himself, truly a fangirl moment.

    🌍Modern Reads That Shook Me
    Some books hit differently. Dan Brown’s controversial Da Vinci Code was one of them. The autobiography I am Malala & Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner left me heartbroken in the best way.

    📖Adulting = Self-Help & Biographies
    Adulthood often leads us to embrace realism. Books like Atomic Habits and Indra Nooyi’s memoir My Life In Full offer practical strategies and inspiring life stories, not whimsical escapes, but essential guides for navigating life’s challenges.

    🎭When Books Felt Like Oscar Films
    Literary fiction? For me, it often felt like Oscar films, painfully slow, possibly important but not always enjoyable. Still, I waded through Jane Austen (Pride & Prejudice, Emma, Sense & Sensibility) and came out mostly unscathed. I even trudged all the way from Delhi to Jaipur for the Jaipur Literature Festival, hoping to see Salman Rushdie; only for him to cancel due to safety concerns.

    🙃Books That Got Away
    Not every book landed. Some went straight over my head, like Great Expectations & The Fountainhead. Maybe it’s time for an adult reread to see if they now offer solace. (Though, when I once asked ChatGPT for recommendations based on my childhood favourites, it cheekily asked: “Would you like suggestions based on your age now?” Rude, but fair.)

    👉That’s the thing about books: they don’t just stay on shelves; they live in the phases of your life. Looking back, I realise every story carried me through a season, whether on bus rides or through heartbreak, from libraries to Netflix sabbaticals. As seasons change, so do the stories that shape us, each book a quiet companion through life’s evolving chapters.

  • Book Club with a Soul

    “The goal is not to be the smartest person in the room. It’s to make the room smarter.”

    I wish I could claim those wise words but they belong to Adam Grant, the bestselling author. Still, I’m happily borrowing them, because they capture exactly how I felt walking into the Silent Book Club hosted by “Life’s Like That” earlier this month.

    The venue? A bright, airy cafe filled with natural light, good coffee and even better company. I was running late (classic me), so the first thing that caught my eye wasn’t the books but the energy of the host, Priya Mathur, holding the space together. Then came the soft rustle of pages, a soundtrack so soothing, it felt as if the cafe was holding its breath.

    It instantly transported me back to my school library where I’d spend hours lost in books, often ignoring my friends in favour of stories. Except this time, adulthood didn’t let me ignore either coffee or conversation. And maybe that’s what made this gathering feel so special: nostalgia, blended with community, caffeine and connection.

    Now, I’m no stranger to books but I’ll admit I’ve been on a long self-inflicted sabbatical. Life, Netflix, the lure of podcasts & the endless scroll of content have all chipped away at my once effortless habit of reading. Slowing down with a book feels almost impossible.

    But something shifted that day. Sitting in a room where silence wasn’t awkward but intentional, surrounded by others equally lost in their pages, I felt my old rhythm return. And when the silence gave way to conversation, it wasn’t small talk, it was connection sparked by stories.

    That’s the real beauty of a book club: fictional characters and borrowed words have a way of helping us make sense of our very real lives. They remind us of the versions of ourselves we’ve outgrown, the ones we’re still becoming and the ones we sometimes need to escape.

    And maybe that’s the soul of it all; walking away not just with a book read, but with the heart a little lighter, perspective a little sharper and a room made just a bit smarter. 😊

  • Power of the Lens

    “One of the most precious gifts my dad left us is the collection of home videos he lovingly recorded, simple moments now transformed into timeless memories.”

    A rarity in the 90’s, he managed to capture not just the innocence of our early years, but unwittingly the youth of my parents. An immortal gift for us millennials, now taken for granted in an age of endless selfies and curated feeds.

    He documented it all, my brother and me getting ready for school, bickering endlessly (at times even encouraging us to fight for the camera when mom wasn’t looking),ma cooking in the kitchen, grandparents lounging with us; the random everyday moments that now feel like magic. With such love and care, he preserved the essence and magic of our childhood.

    He left us too soon, but through those tapes, he gifted us something immeasurable; his presence. Even in absence, he left behind frames of love and glimpses of joy.

    In today’s world, cameras often feel like tools of self-obsession amplified by social media into endless reels. But for me, the camera has found its truest purpose again. When I look at those photos and videos, I see him. I see not just moments, but his spirit.

    Those recordings are even more precious because, as the years went on, something in him began to fade. In his late sixties, he grew quieter, slowly letting go of little pieces of his world. And as he began to retreat, a quiet worry settled over us & without meaning to, we began to forget the spirited, lively version of him that once lit up our lives.

    But now, after he’s gone the videos and old photographs bring him roaring back to life. I remember him not as he was at the end, but as he truly was; full of life, wisdom, strength, and warmth. Remembering him reminds me of the roots I carry-steady, silent and always there.

  • Swipe Right or Apply Now? The Surprising Parallels Between Job Hunt and Partner Search

    Swipe Right or Apply Now? The Surprising Parallels Between Job Hunt and Partner Search

    Navigating Dubai’s competitive, expat-rich job market, I can’t help but notice how much finding a job feels like finding a life partner, especially if you’ve done both the long way round.

    Fifteen years of job-hopping and a solid tour of the arranged marriage circuit? Let’s just say I’ve clocked more interviews and coffee “meetings” than most.

    The Nerves Are the Same
    Whether it’s a job interview or a potential rishta (arranged marriage) meeting, the opening act is identical: anticipation, anxiety, and sweaty palms. Both begin with the timeless opener:
    “So, tell me about yourself?”

    Sure, partner meetings aren’t always that direct, but they’re still about the same questions: What do you bring to the table? What’s your long-term vision? How will you balance career and life responsibilities?

    “Ever walked into an office and just knew it wasn’t ‘the one’ – flat energy, drab décor and a commute that felt like a modern-day pilgrimage?” You mentally check out before the interview even begins. Same in partner search. Sometimes you’re just counting down the minutes of a painfully polite coffee date.

    And then, come the “memorable” encounters

    There was the guy who spent the entire meeting staring past me at the wall behind, making me wonder if he had a squint or a romantic history with the said wall. Then there was the ever-charming gentleman who declared my 5’2” height as not quite “ideal” and to top it all off, suggested I wear heels at all times.

    How can I forget the middlemen

    “Marriage bureaus and recruiters are basically the same species -one matches resumes to job titles, the other matches biodatas to wedding invites.” Some charge lakhs for a CXO role; others for your “perfect match,” curated based on education, income, pedigree and let’s be honest – skin tone.

    Moreover, if you’ve ever dealt with one of these well-meaning, eloquent agents who call both parties to their office for a meet up, you are almost tempted to quote that classic Bollywood line:

    “Aap broker hain ya party?”
    (Are you the middleman, or are you the actual groom?)

    Same Lessons, Different Stakes

    In the end, whether you’re chasing a job title or a plus-one, answering the same questions over and over again, or faking enthusiasm requires stamina, resilience and a very good sense of self-deprecating humour.

    “Above all, both job hunts and partner searches teach you this:

    Know your worth. Read between the lines. Wait patiently for the right opportunity (or person). And when it finally arrives – enjoy the ride,heels or no heels.”

  • When Peacocks Took Over: Flora, Fauna and the Shifting Soul of My Childhood Home

    Time has a quiet way of rearranging the places we once thought permanent.

    My childhood home in Delhi, once bursting with people, voices and rituals, now feels quieter. As aging grandparents move on and life pulls us in different directions, the human buzz has dimmed. But where people have stepped back, nature has stepped in- boldly, colourfully and without apology.

    What was once my mother’s lovingly tended garden is now shared ground. Her green thumb is still hard at work, but the creatures who’ve taken over are the ones having a true field day.

    Sure, there were always the usual suspects: the occasional cockroach (met with swift fury), an odd rat making a guest appearance and lizards leaping across walls. But now? Squirrels dart across the balcony like they own the place. Pigeons, multiplying by the dozen, have turned into miniature vandals – nesting in exhaust fans & squeezing behind AC units. But most maddeningly & majestically, peacocks have moved in. Yes, peacocks.

    My beloved home, tucked away into a leafy part of Delhi, is now something of a peacock playground. And no, they’re not shy. They strut through the garden as if it were the backyard of Mughal royalty.

    “You Rascals!” my mother cries, but her colourful warnings only seem to embolden them. The peacocks return with renewed vigour, treating every freshly planted petunia like an open buffet.A fence here, a net there, nothing seems to deter the ever-lurking peacocks, male and female alike, hell-bent on feasting on Ma’s precious flowers.

    It is a daily face-off:
    “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fiercest of us all?”

    Some days it even feels like Old MacDonald’s farm, reimagined in the heart of urban India.

    A moo moo here, a moo moo there,
    Here a moo, there a moo, everywhere a moo moo,
    Old man peacock had a prance, eiyaa eiyaa o

    Alas, in this story, it’s hard to say who’s winning the turf war- my determined mother or the flamboyant peacock fanning his feathers like the diva he clearly believes he is

    But what’s clear is this, as the human presence recedes, nature quietly, unapologetically fills the gaps. And in doing so, it reminds us that life doesn’t pause, it just evolves.  

    The soul of the house is still very much alive; it just looks different now.

    It chirps, coos, struts and blooms.

    And through it all, my mother stands at the centre, part warrior, part gardener, fiercely defending her home from beaks and feathers alike.

    So next time you think your childhood home has changed, take a closer look. Maybe, just maybe, the peacocks have moved in there too.

  • Down Memory Lane

    I’ve been meaning to write for years, but it took my dad’s passing to finally nudge me toward the pen (figuratively speaking) and put into words the whirlwind of emotions that have engulfed me in the past year. I’m not sure if this is the perfect place to begin, but it feels like the right one. And perhaps this memory is a fitting gem to capture the heart of our relationship.

    Like most dads, mine loved to give advice – plenty of it 😊. He had his own pearls of wisdom and guiding principles for how life should be lived. For many years growing up, his voice was a constant in my head. Whether I was navigating the city or flying across countries, his instructions echoed in the background.

    My first instinct? Rebellion, of course. But in the quiet hours of the night, that rebellion would soften into reflection. And truth be told, 95% of the time (though I’d never admit it back then), his logic made perfect sense.

    Some of his timeless gems that have stayed with me:

    • Save 50% of your salary in your formative years; as you grow financially, aim for 70%
    • Always keep a written list of friends’ and colleagues’ names, phone numbers, and addresses just in case of an emergency
    • Keep all records – financial documents, government IDs, personal papers safe, secure, and organized
    • And of course, his views on politics and religion, shared with passion and open-ended debate

    I still hear his voice sometimes when I’m making a decision, or when I’m simply sipping my morning chai. It’s in the small routines, the careful planning, the sense of responsibility I now carry. Grief has a strange way of making you feel both heavy and anchored. And while I never got around to sharing these words with him quite like this, I believe, deep down, he would have felt seen, loved, and truly cared for.

    He lived life on his own terms. A stubborn, strong, loving, supremely responsible, and deeply caring man with both a quiet and, when necessary, not so quiet conviction that shaped how we lived, learned, and loved.

  • A Reluctant NRI – Home Away from Home

    




    As a reluctant NRI who never wanted to leave the comforting chaos of my hometown Delhi, marriage whisked me away to Dubai. It wasn’t the glittering skyline or the cosmopolitan appeal that drew me in, it was simply the new chapter that life had written for me.
    




    My hesitation was always deeply rooted in the need for proximity to my family. I craved the ability to be there instantly and instinctively for joyful celebrations, for sorrowful goodbyes and for the simple, everyday comfort of shared space. Though Dubai is just a short flight away and arguably the nearest international “home away from home,” the irony of timing made it feel far more distant. The world, as we knew it, changed soon after.
    




    As I complete nearly five years in Dubai, I turned to my husband recently and said half-joking, half-serious reflecting on the Indo-Pak conflict that flared up in May:
    




    “My marriage to you has literally rocked the world bringing with it momentous joys and seismic sorrows.”
    Pun intended, of course. 
    




    In just these few years, we’ve experienced a whirlwind of global and personal upheavals:
    




      

    • The Covid pandemic that froze the world
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    • My big move to Dubai
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    • The joy and chaos of building a home together
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    • Job hunting-akin to partner search (filled with hope, rejection & overthinking!)
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    • The rise of Artificial Intelligence changing how we live and work
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    • The deep grief of losing a father
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    • And now, the lingering shadow of regional tensions
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    “I may not have chosen to leave home but five years, countless memories and one fully stocked masala drawer later, I’ve built one here too.”
    

    


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    Hello World!
    



    

    

    

    



    

    




    

    

    




    This is Me
    




    A late bloomer, a full-time feeler and a proud Libran constantly seeking balance in a world that rarely sits still.
    




    This blog, A Wandering Mind, is my mental post box. It holds reflections, emotional detours, and the occasional existential question wrapped in humour because ‘therapy is expensive 😅 and blogging is free 😊’
    




    I like both coffee and chai (beat that), my chocolate dark and my surroundings beautiful. Beauty, for me, is not a luxury, it’s a language.
    




    I value friendships, family bonds and the kind of conversations that linger long after they’re over. My mind soars with ambition, but I often find myself tiptoeing between dreams and deadlines, home and the world outside, love and logic and all the messy spaces in between. Very on-brand for a Libra, honestly.
    




    ✨ What You’ll Find Here
    




      

    • Honest, heart-first writing on life
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    • Musings on the messy beauty of being human
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    • Thoughts that wander but often land where they need to
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    • A little wit, a little warmth, and a lot of “you too?” moments
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    If your heart wanders and your mind won’t stop making metaphors, pull up a chair. Welcome to my wandering mind. Let’s find our balance, one thought at a time.