Rains have always been special for me. There is something about the pitter-patter of drops that draws me in.
Every day, when the clock strikes 13:45, IIM Ahmedabad erupts into chaos
I look the same, sound the same, feel the same. What has changed? Nothing. And yet, everything.
There's something about them..
What if you could travel in time? Where would you go?
'Madiralaya jaane ko ghar se chalta hai peenewala, Kis path se jaaoon asmanjas, mein hai woh bhola bhala, Alag alag path batlate sab, par main yeh batlata hoon, Raah pakad tu ek chala chal, paa jaayega madhushala.' (Seeking wine, the drinker leaves home for the tavern. Perplexed, he asks, “Which path will take me there?”…