Cognitive Vestigialization

 

When we speak of evolution, 

we tend to think of forward movement.

It isn’t the case always. 

Evolution also forgets. 

It moves on and removes things we no longer need. 

The appendix. Wisdom teeth.

Vestigial organs are reminders that nature is ruthlessly practical. 

Anything repeatedly left unused eventually fades into irrelevance.

This thought, along with watching Silo, made me wonder 

what parts of ourselves are we allowing to be vestigial. 

Not physical, this time. Cognitive.

Writing itself was once accused, by Socrates, of atrophying memory. 

Now that we have tablets and keyboards, the elegance of 

handwriting has started fading - alas, the cursive. 

Calculators came, and mental math became optional for those 

of us who'd already decided we were lazy. 

Chips in computers and smartphones remembered what 

we no longer cared to memorise - birthdays, phone numbers, even the way home. 

Lassie now has an AirTag 

The blank page that used to be the starting point of penning something down is absent. 

Instead, there's the bar for the prompt. Even a half-formed, half-baked, 

grammatically wrong sentence comes back with an unnatural gloss.

Musk, Altman tells us these AI tools are here to free us up for "bigger thinking." 

Somewhere in there, the bigger thinking stopped showing up too.

If we stop exercising our memory, memory weakens - just like our muscles. 

If we stop questioning, curiosity dulls - just like our vision.

If we stop imagining, creativity atrophies - just like our hearts.  

Don't think our brains will disappear – what will remain 

will be a small structural memory of who we used to be.

It isn't dangerous that AI is becoming AGI. 

It's that we have become intellectually sedentary.

And it isn't happening in isolation.

We eat fruits without seeds. 

Monocultures replacing biodiversity. 

A handful of companies now control most of the world's seed supply - 

patented, engineered, often deliberately seedless - 

so the food chain itself runs through a few corporate gatekeepers 

rather than through the land or the farmer.

Our minds are in the same daldal. 

Convenience first, dependency quietly following behind it, 

and control consolidating in fewer and fewer hands while 

the rest of us stop noticing we've handed it over.

We are slowly losing our ability to regenerate independently - 

whether as ecosystems or as societies.

Sometimes I wonder whether our future will resemble the worlds 

imagined in The Handmaid's Tale, Silo or Paradise. 

Not because dystopias arrive overnight. 

But because they arrive one convenience at a time. 

One surrendered skill. One unquestioned technology. One forgotten freedom.

Evolution doesn't always take something away. 

Sometimes, we willingly stop using it.

And one day we wake up to discover that the 

most vestigial organ wasn't the appendix.

It is our capacity to think for ourselves.

Khuchro Prem

 In Bengali there's a word - Khuchro - it means loose change, the small denominations.

A friend recently shared that she indulged in some khuchro prem. The phrase immediately took residence in both my brain and heart. It propelled thoughts which have just ravined their way onto the paper.

Khuchro Prem literally means small change of love. The little coins of affection that pass between two - not grand enough to be romantic, neither substantial enough to build a life around. But enough to lift you on a day when you are running emotionally short.

We think if there is no great love, there is an absence of love. Life is rarely binary.

Sometimes love arrives in strands - not physical, not even personal, but the strange sustenance of being seen in fragments. Someone reads something you have written and understands the unsaid words. Someone you have never met catches a thought from somewhere inside you and holds it up to the light, as though they have been carrying the same thought themselves.

While striking one string on the guitar, if another string nearby is tuned to the same note, it hums back at you. You didn't touch it. Nobody touched it. It's called sympathetic resonance. Perhaps not the same song or melody, but both share the same frequency. 

For that moment, you recognise each other. And something clenched in you, unclenches.

That is a coin - spending itself. That is nokumori - warmth with no source you can point to, no hand that gave it, but the warmth that lingers where someone has been.

Someone, unasked, unmet, echoes something back to you that you thought only you carried. It is not a small thing because it is brief and neither small because it has no name. It rings.

And perhaps that is enough - to remind us that we are still capable of the same emotional altitude and resonance. 

Enough to remind us that somewhere, someone is playing the same note. And when we strike ours, they echo.

Nolan's Odyssey

Haven’t read the Odyssey but have read about it through the history reams. For me, it has been philosophy disguised as adventure & psychology wrapped in myth. The greatest myths survive because they are not about the gods and monsters - they're about us and our characteristics – be it our grief, vulnerabilities and our longing to be back home with our own.

Being a Nolan fan, was excited to see the journey that Odyssey took, through his IMAX lens. 

Wasn’t struck by either the Cyclops, Calypso nor Circe but how grounded it is. It’s not relegated itself to the museum – instead it is a poignant thread for today’s world. He humanizes it through his lens. Thus the casual dialogues. 

Nolan’s Odysseus doesn’t dwell in his pride or glorify his brilliance – instead he’s a softer, reflective man who’s in tune with sensisbilities and tries to be poignantly politically correct. 

Was impressed by the weaving together of timeless human truths. The monsters showcased are metaphors - pride, greed, vengeance, fear, ambition, love and the intoxicating temptation of power.

In the midst of the daunting journey, the gods do intervene, but it is still human choice that determines destiny. And that’s the enduring lesson which feels especially relevant today: be cautious of those who promise glory through easy narratives. 

The weave that Nolan sews, is a masterclass in summation – it strips the armor of ancient propaganda to look what lies below. It’s a cautionary tale – don’t believe in the gilded paeans of politicians. True virtue doesn’t lie in the decree of the state – it resides in the small enduring acts of goodness, resilience and basic humanity. This is what keeps us tethered to each other inspite of the world that tries hard to tear us. 

The Odyssey isn't about reaching Ithaca - It's about who you become on the journey home.

The Line We Blur

Love and care are not the same thing. They are not the same emotion wearing two names

We often use them interchangeably, as though one automatically guarantees the other. 

But nope they are not. They are different things entirely. 

Care is duty, habit, familiarity, sometimes even guilt dressed up as loyalty. Love is choice, renewed on purpose, again and again, even when it's inconvenient.

You can love someone deeply and yet not care for them in the ways they need.

You can also care for someone immensely, long after the love has quietly packed its bags and left.

Care is making sure someone's eaten - it's about duty, habit and familiarity. Being there when they need help. Wanting them to be safe, healthy, and okay.

Love is something else. It's the desire to share your inner world. It's a choice - to be with someone, not out of obligation, but because your heart still finds its way back to them.

Sometimes, relationships outlive love - especially one that has quietly run its course. Because life has slowly replaced love with habit, responsibility, familiarity... and care. And care can be deceptive. It feels enough. It looks enough. From the outside, it can even resemble love. So we stay.

That line gets blurred on purpose. Not because we don't know the difference. We do. But we blur - why? 

Partly because leaving is exhausting. Ambiguity lets you stay a little longer without having to call it anything. Untangling years of shared history feels more daunting than simply carrying on. Lethargy is easier than a decision.

I care for people I no longer love.

I love Whisky [iykyk], and caring for him is simply one expression of that love.

The distinction is subtle, but once you see it, it's impossible to unsee.

Perhaps the hardest thing in life isn't falling out of love.

It's recognising that you already have.

This Is Not Governance

Grew up reading history which told us that my India won her freedom not because an empire weakened, but because ordinary people found extraordinary courage.

One man walked to Dandi. Millions walked with him.

Today, another man sat on a hunger strike and requested a dialogue on the accountability to an entire generation of students. 

Instead of dialogue, what we witnessed today is not governance. When an administration relies on the plainclothes policemen and security personnel for an early morning abduction of a peaceful, fasting Sonam Wangchuk from Jantar Mantar, it abdicates its right to be called a government. 

A true government is of, by, and for the people – I refuse to call the people who did this that. The current ruling apparatus operates purely for the preservation of its own power and the enrichment of its corporate.

The parallels to the British Raj are no longer hyperbole. When Gandhi went on a hunger strike, even the ruthless East India Company were forced into the theater of dialogue. Today’s ruling party lacks even that colonial courtesy. They do not engage; they erase. They are uncomfortable with conversation itself. 

Pre-independence, our forefathers paid lagaan to the English. Today, the tax code has simply been rebranded. The modern version is funneled directly into the pockets of Adani, Ambani, and the tight coterie of oligarchs. 

The hypocrisy is staggering. The PM beats the drum of self-reliance, telling people to travel in India, to wed in India. But there’s a glaring omission - he never tells them to study in India! 

Why? Because one cannot mandate domestic education when one has utterly failed to build the infrastructure to support it - failure made glaringly obvious by systemic exam leaks that has left millions of students in despair. More than 1.2 million Indian students are currently studying abroad, and the number taking loans to fund that education has nearly tripled in the last decade. 

That is the actual wealth we should be trying to stem — and the real brain drain we should be reversing.

Love beyond reciprocity

Have never regretted loving.

Not every love lasts or every heart stays 

and neither every goodbye is kind.

Love is never a transaction.

We spend so much of our lives 

measuring love by what comes back to us.

Did they love me enough? Or Stay? Or Choose Me? 

Did they appreciate all that I gave?

Perhaps those are the wrong questions.

Love isn't diminished if it isn't returned in equal measure.

Nor is it wasted because it changes form.

A mother's sleepless nights.

A father's quiet sacrifices.

A sibling who always answers the phone.

A friend who remembers the smallest details.

The hand that reaches for an ageing parent.

The heart that breaks a million pieces 

over the loss of a beloved pet.

None of these loves asks to be counted. They simply exist.

Have loved people who are no longer part of my life.

And have loved beings who didn't speak my language, 

yet understood my heart perfectly.

Love never really leaves us. It changes addresses.

What you give to one soul does not 

disappear because that chapter ends.

It becomes part of who you are.

It softens you, expands you.

Teaches you to see the world with gentler eyes.

Eventually, it finds its way back.

Sometimes through a child who trusts you;

Sometimes through an old friend.

Sometimes through the quiet 

companionship of an animal.

Sometimes through the profound peace that 

comes from knowing you lived with an open heart.

Love is not a possession to lose. It is a way of being.

Not measured by how many remain but by whether we continue 

to choose tenderness in a world that often rewards indifference.

So I have never wished I had loved less.

Because every act of love - 

whether returned, forgotten, celebrated, or unspoken - 

has shaped the person I am becoming.

I believe love is something we become.

And once it becomes who we are,

it always finds its way home.

For Love Is All Who I Am

 

I loved you deeply as i know how. 

Never once did i regret it, not even for a fleeting moment. 

Because love, freely given, is never a loss. 

It leaves fingerprints on the soul - not scars. 

Every kindness, every embrace, 

Every piece of my heart i placed in yours.....

None of them were wasted. 

Love has a way of returning - may not be through the same door. 

But it returns. 

In another embrace. In another friendship. 

In another season of life or simply in the quiet place. 

Of knowing that i remained true to myself. 

With or without you. 

My heart, never empty because love was never something i possessed. 

Love is something i am. 

It flows through me as it's me, my nature. 

I have always left without bitterness. 

Without wishing i loved you less. 

For if i had, i would have become less of myself. 

And that would have been the only true loss.