Subash.M | Assistant Professor

Sundays have their own rhythm. Today mine began slowly, almost lazily, with no deadlines or alarms chasing me out of bed. I just stayed in the present moment, arranging little things in my room. Somehow moving books, folding shirts, and clearing the desk gave a calm, pleasant start to the day. It felt like putting my mind in order too. By noon, I went to Vadipatti Matha Church, my regular stop for Sunday prayers. There, as usual, my mind betrayed me by wandering off into literature. While the priest spoke, I caught myself remembering Charles Lamb’s essay Sir Roger at Church. It was funny to realize how close I was to his description half attentive, half lost, and secretly fighting sleep. Prayer is holy, but my drowsy eyelids clearly didn’t agree. After church, I visited my friend at the seminary. He handed me a guitar, and we tried to make sense of some chords. Let me admit the guitar made more noise than music under my fingers, but it was still fun. My friend played like a saint, whil...

Today was one of those days that made me stop and think about life, work, and all the small dramas in between. First of all, a burning question struck me, is it mandatory to take calls after working hours? Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe the corporate world wants us to be available 24/7, but I believe after-hours belong to ourselves. If my quality of work is measured by how quickly I pick up a late night call, then probably I am in the wrong story. Then came another thought  how do I measure the quality of my own work? Is it in the numbers, in the appreciation, or simply in the peace I feel after completing a task? I still don’t have the perfect answer, but at least I know perfection is overrated. Even appearance comes into the picture. What to wear to the workplace? Should I dress for comfort, style, or to impress the boss? And about lenses no, I don’t want anyone else’s lenses to see the world. Mine are enough. Why should I care for the judgments of people stuck in worldly matters?...

Yesterday was one of those days that quietly left me with a deep lesson about life. I was teaching a poem on life to my third year students, speaking about beauty, meaning, and change. Just outside my classroom, I noticed a statue of Lord Krishna. People were cleaning it with devotion. The image was striking Krishna with the Ratha, full of grace, charm, and romance. The statue looked divine, and in that moment, it was not just a piece of stone but a symbol of faith and beauty. Later in the evening, around 4 pm, I happened to pass by the waste burning area. To my shock, I saw the very same statue lying there. The same image that was worshipped in the morning now looked abandoned, broken, and unwanted. It was painful to witness such a contrast. That sight made me think of life itself. We may look precious and beautiful in someone’s eyes today, but the moment we change, lose our charm, or no longer fit their idea of perfection, we may be discarded. Just like the statue, what is once cheri...

Today was one of those days when life decided to surprise me. I walked into class with my usual energy and taught a poem to the first year students. The poem was about love and madness a subject that feels too big for someone like me. Honestly, I have no experience in love, yet I stood there explaining it with confidence, as though I had written the poem myself. After class, my eyes wandered outside. Near our college, there is a small mountain. On top of it stood a shepherd with his sheep, right at the edge of the cliff. That simple picture shook me. He stood there so calmly, as if he owned the world, while his sheep grazed without worry. I couldn’t help but compare our lives. We chase targets, face deadlines, juggle workload, and complain about pressure. But that shepherd? He looked like he had none of those things to bother him. Maybe he has his own problems, but from where I stood, he seemed freer than all of us. It made me think we live in a world full of opinions about love, about...

Today, as I boarded the college bus, the road itself seemed to narrate a story. People were running in every direction some with a purpose, some without. A few faces glowed with joy, while others carried the dullness of routine. Some looked expressionless, as if life had paused for them, while a few carried eyes full of curiosity and silent questions. The vehicles that rushed past told another tale. Drivers moved faster than the wind, hardly worried about risks, as though speed itself had become their reason to live. The world on the move is always fascinating it makes me wonder, are they chasing something, or just trying to escape? Amid all this, what caught my heart most were the kids. Their faces were pure joy untouched by worries, unshaken by expectations. They live as if life is nothing but play, a lesson many of us forget once we grow up. Watching them reminded me that happiness doesn’t need reasons, it just needs presence. I may not have magical powers to read the depths of ever...

Today felt like a turning point after a long pause. After two weeks, I finally stepped back into the gym. The familiar smell of weights, the rhythm of workouts, and the energy of being there made me feel alive again. It was as if my body was whispering, “Welcome back.” The break had slowed me down, but today I felt that spark returning. Sometimes, even a short gap makes us realize how much we value a routine that builds both strength and spirit. But the day didn’t just end with that small victory. There was a bigger surprise waiting for me one that touched my heart in the deepest way. A week ago, I casually asked my Anna for something. Today, the parcel arrived all the way from Kashmir. As I opened the box, I felt like a child unwrapping a long awaited gift. My hands trembled with excitement, and my heart was full of gratitude. It’s not just about the gift; it’s about the love and care wrapped inside it. Anna has always been more than a brother to me he is like a second father, my next...

Yesterday was one of those rare days that felt light and joyful from start to finish. I met up with my friends, and as always, the laughter began the moment we saw each other. We started off with some window shopping, strolling from shop to shop, pointing at things we didn’t plan to buy but enjoyed imagining as ours. The fun was less about the things on display and more about the silly conversations we had along the way. In between, we bumped into our professor who was out with his family. For a few minutes, we all stood a little straighter, spoke a little softer, and put on our “student face.” It was a nice encounter that added a different flavor to the day. Soon, food became the priority, and nothing beats a hearty mutton meal when you’re with close friends. Sharing bites, exchanging plates, and joking over the last piece made it feel like a feast. Over the meal, we began planning our next trip half serious, half playful, but completely exciting. Later, I went to check out some new s...

Today was one of those days where productivity decided to take a holiday. I woke up with some energy, thinking I would conquer tasks, make plans, and maybe even feel like a responsible adult. But instead, I ended up exploring AI applications. Don’t get me wrong, it was fun like opening a box of futuristic toys. I clicked here, typed there, and got amazed at how smart these apps have become. For a moment, I felt like a scientist in a lab, except my “lab” was just my phone and a cup of tea on the table. Once my AI curiosity took a break, I slipped into the world of a series. You know how it goes you tell yourself, “Just one episode,” but suddenly the sun is on its way down, and you’re still stuck with the characters as if they are your real-life friends. The series gave me laughter, suspense, and that dangerous urge to keep watching even when I knew I should stop. And then came the final chapter of the day: sleep. Not the well-planned, disciplined kind of sleep, but the casual, “let me c...

Today was… well, let’s call it “an experience.” From morning till evening, I went through the motions, yet somewhere deep inside, I felt like my time had slipped through my fingers. By evening, I couldn’t help thinking what was the point? Even during my college days, I never felt so utterly unworthy of the hours I’d spent. The truth? I’m not sure if I’m fit for these little in-and-out, this-and-that, so-called “productive” activities people rave about. Maybe I’m not wired for them. Maybe I’m just… me a freak, a lone walker, the sort of person who watches life like a movie and sometimes wonders who’s holding the camera. Still, no matter what twists or turns tomorrow throws at me, I know one thing: I won’t change myself for the sake of fitting into someone else’s frame. If that makes me the odd one out, so be it. I’m happier standing alone than squeezing myself into a crowd I don’t belong to. Funny thing is, I started writing this without a clue about what I wanted to say. My mind felt a...

When I arrived at CIT, Coimbatore, for the six-day training program for teachers, I expected structured sessions, a few notes, and maybe some polite networking. What I got instead was a whole new world of experiences, ideas, and people. From the very first day, I met new faces  each with a story, a style, and a spark. Some smiled instantly, some warmed up slowly, but everyone added something to my journey. The mornings were full of fresh energy, engaging discussions, and thought-provoking activities that made me rethink my own teaching methods. The afternoons had a different pace ,more practical sessions, more open conversations, and, of course, the quiet excitement that builds just before lunch. The resource persons didn’t just deliver content; they challenged our perspectives, encouraged participation, and added moments of laughter when we least expected it. Sometimes a serious debate would take a funny turn, and suddenly the room would feel lighter yet more connected. Beyond the...

Today started with the ever-energetic TTT sessions at CIT. The activities were buzzing from the word go learning, sharing opinions, and talking without taking a single pause (yes, I’m sure I was giving the mic a workout). Everyone had something to say, and I was right there, eager to jump into every conversation like a kid spotting a free ice cream stall. The learning part? Oh, it was great. But the talking part? Even greater! I met people, exchanged ideas, nodded seriously at some points, and laughed shamelessly at others. If there were a prize for “Most Words Spoken Before Lunch,” I would have won hands down. By evening, the mood shifted from intellectual to spiritual. It was time for Varalakshmi Pooja. The aroma of Pongal and Sundal filled the air you know that feeling when the smell itself makes you full, but you still eat like you haven’t eaten all day? That was me. The decorations were beautiful, the prayers were peaceful, and my mind was still half thinking about the morning dis...

Today felt like a slow motion Monday even though it wasn’t. I wasn’t the only one struggling to stay awake; my colleagues looked equally bored and tired. The trainer did their best, but it felt more like we were attending a “How to Feel Exhausted in 3 Hours” workshop. Honestly, I was mentally checking the clock every five minutes. Many professors came up to me during breaks, smiling and saying polite things. But let me be real, those smiles were strictly for attendance. I didn’t see a single “I’m genuinely happy to see you” kind of face. Just formal smiles, mechanical nods, and “How are you?” without waiting for the answer. I returned the favor, of course manners matter! After the session, I ran home like I was being chased by invisible boredom. But I didn’t want the day to end on such a dull note. So, I grabbed my bike and went on a random ride. No plan, no destination just me, the road, and a playlist that didn’t judge my dance moves at red lights. I ended up in places I’ve never bee...

Today began like any other a regular morning, a scheduled training session, and the usual routine. But life has its way of surprising us when we least expect it. After my morning training, quite by accident, I ran into my friend. He’s elder than me, but his spirit is young, his presence comforting, and his words deeply inspiring. He’s a successful language trainer, quietly changing lives, one word at a time. We spoke not just about language, but life. His words didn’t just teach; they touched. He shared his journey, his struggles, and his purpose. I listened, not as a passive learner, but as someone eager to grow. Without hesitation, I asked him to train me too. And just like that, I found myself attending two training sessions in one day one planned, the other destined. Strangely, it wasn’t the scheduled training that stayed with me, but the unexpected one. The second session wasn't about textbooks or techniques. It was about life, growth, and the silent power of learning through ...

 Yesterday was a bit different. I forgot to write my blog not because I was lazy, but because something meaningful happened. As I mentioned in my earlier post, I met my research supervisor. It wasn’t just another routine meeting. I opened up about everything my research progress, my delays, and a little bit about life too. She listened with patience, gave me hope, and said something I didn’t expect: “Let’s finish this thesis by this week.” And not just that, she prayed for me. That moment felt like someone had switched on a light inside me. After the meeting, I visited the Vadipatti Matha Temple. I don’t usually go there, but something inside me said I should. I prayed for my thesis and my job all the grown-up stuff. Here’s the twist: the very same evening, my bus route took me past the same temple again. Coincidence? I don’t think so. I looked at the temple from the bus, closed my eyes, and whispered the same prayer again. That moment felt like magic simple, powerful, and unforge...

Tomorrow is the big day. My research supervisor asked me to submit the corrected copy of my thesis, and here I am, staring at the untouched pages like they’re plotting against me. I know the deadline is right in front of my eyes, but instead of panic, I feel a strange mix of fear and thrill. It’s that classic “butterflies in my stomach” moment, except these butterflies seem to be dancing a kuthu song inside me. Yesterday, when my phone lit up with her number, my heart stopped for a second. She is kind, always patient, but my fear doesn’t listen to logic. I wanted to sound confident, but inside, my brain screamed, “Run!” Funny thing is, this isn’t the first time I’ve been in this situation. Deadlines and I share a love-hate relationship, mostly hate until the last minute and then love when I somehow cross the finish line. Somewhere deep down, I actually enjoy this madness. It’s like my heart whispers, “Viduda, pathukalam.” There’s a weird comfort in knowing that even if I’m struggling n...