the addictions of writing

02.04.2026

The sun was breaking out over the houses in my street. I had woken up and lain in bed, running my mind over the infinite business of this life. And then, the call from Alfonso had come. On occasion, he would sometimes wake up even earlier than me, however early I could manage to do so.

Alfonso asked me, ‘Why do you write so constantly?’ I imagined him there at home, perhaps sitting in front of a small and nutritious breakfast, perhaps with a newspaper beside him to be savoured at length.

‘It is an addiction.’

‘Why is it an addiction?’

I searched for an answer. What had that child that wanted to become a writer seen in it? I tried to reimagine myself as that young and voracious reader. Of course, the first addiction had been reading. I had devoured books constantly. The joy, the escape, the stimulation to the mind, the love of the good story. The love of the good story had been instilled in me through the stories that my grandfather gave me. Yes, in fact, everything went back to my grandfather, this educated, cultured, wonderful man that had nourished my love of narrative and wisdom. I wanted to be the storyteller, just like my grandfather. It was the family tradition. We are Indian. We follow the family traditions. I said so much to Alfonso.

‘You desperately want to become your grandfather. Can you not become your own person?’

‘There is this phrase ‘role model’. Am I not entitled to choose and follow my role model?’

‘Of course you are. If you find good, why would you not want it for yourself? All I am asking is, have you reconsidered your motivations for writing and for this addiction that you cannot control?’

‘It has not taken over my life, has it? The routine of writing a few times a day. It is not all that I do. I do many other things.’

‘It has gotten you into much trouble.’

‘My middle name is ‘Tiger’. If I were not to get into trouble, I would not be writing properly. The one that points out what is wrong with this world, he will always be in trouble. They cannot brook just criticism.’

‘You should relax your critical attitude.’

‘They that hurt me hurt the community. They that exclude and reject, they should be criticised. Their selfishness, greed, racism and intolerance should be criticised. The way that they have exploited the people and the world should be criticised. The way that they judge unjustly should be criticised. Their worship of money above all things should be criticised. Their rape of the planet should be criticised. This is why the writer is here. The writer is freedom. That cry for freedom, for The Revolution that has come from the lips of Punjab, that is why the writer is here. My grandfather was born in the time of Independence. I carry the torch of freedom. That is why the writer is here. That is why the writer is addicted to writing. Because writing is freedom. The expression of our self. The writer wants to be the grandfather, the storyteller of freedom.’

Was it enough for Alfonso? It was enough for myself. There is a reason in all things. And the best reason. Because, alongside freedom, there was love. Love for the storyteller. Love for my grandfather. He had given me love. And I? I had given him love back. That was why I was the writer. Love is something that you can never have too much of. It is love that is the addiction.

nothing in particular

01.04.2026

Already, it was April. The year was passing quickly. Everything was so fast nowadays. You would blink and you would miss it, that was the pace of life nowadays. We were talking about nothing in particular. Alfonso was lounging about, although he always lounged about with a certain style. He was wearing a cream suit with a pale green shirt and the top buttons were undone. I had been telling him that there were those that would listen avidly when I relayed our conversations about life and things. They were always eager for the next installment for their own unknown reasons.

Alfonso had just recommended a hotel to me for a trip that I was set on doing abroad. It was a special place and I had special plans there.

Alfonso drawled, ‘Why do you want so much to escape London? I thought that you loved London’.

I thought for a moment. I was remembering what life had been like before London, when I would only enter the city to visit my grandparents. ‘Life in London is very beautiful. But there is a world outside. There are many places outside of London. After all, it is not the world.’

‘After all, it is not the world.’ Alfonso mused. ‘But has not London become the world now? Is not the whole world like London, touched by London, a part of London?’

‘In many senses,’ I said, having considered it, ‘you are right. There is very little difference between places in the world and they are all touched by London and the West. But still, there remains that little bit of difference. And it is our duty to learn that difference and to extend it and extend it. Because there cannot be the rule of the one. There has to be difference. And I am difference.’

‘Difference is a word that you use often,’ Alfonso said with a touch of grandeur. ‘Does anyone really know what difference is? You like to say that difference is yourself. But how much are you difference and how much are you something of the same? You would have yourself as an original and the world as a copy.’

‘What is this world but a tired copy?’ I asked Alfonso. ‘Do you not tire of the grey? Do you think that a real original can exist in this world of the fascimile, of the fake?’

‘Somehow,’ archly said Alfonso, ‘you survive as an original.’

‘It comes at a price,’ I returned. ‘There is much suffering in being original.’

‘You are not a penniless starving artist in a garret,’ spoke Alfonso. ‘In fact, you have more than enough. Your belly is full.’

‘It is not what I am worth that I am rewarded with.’

‘Take what you can get.’

‘This heart craves honour.’

‘This honour that you want,’ said Alfonso, ‘it is only possible on the battlefield or if you change the world.’

‘The world is there to be changed. She is there for the turning.’

‘That is your mistake.’ Alfonso looked at me keenly. ‘What is it that fills you with this optimism, this belief in your own power to transform reality?’

‘You know my beliefs,’ I said. ‘I believe in destiny. I believe that I am destiny. I believe that I am god born upon this world. That I will answer the prayers of the people for justice and transformation, for good over evil, for love and belonging and happiness. I believe that the tears of the people should be wiped away. That there will be real diversity and inclusion in this world. I believe that the warrior will bring real peace and joy to the people. I believe that the hero has enough strength in him, that I have enough strength in me. I believe that one that wants something bad enough, that works bad enough for it, that this limitless energy and aspiration that is in me, it will come to fruition.’

‘But at the same time, you are a pessimist, cynic and a realist. You believe that man is a wolf to man.’

‘There is a difference between knowing how things are and a deluded hope. There is a difference, also, between a can-do attitude and absolute negativity. There are those that have fought before me. They have given us our hard-won rights. And it is up to us to keep fighting for them, to fight and fight and fight.’

‘You have always lost every battle.’

‘But that is not to say that I am not right. This whole world is against me. Nobody is pleased with me. Because I do not accept the rule of the majority. I do not accept dishonour. I am the greatest and the best. I am the splendour and the pride of Punjab. I am The Tiger. Why should they always have what they want? Why should they be the ones that decide? I am the one that will have what I want. I am the one that will have what I decide. Who has been able to stop me? I am the poet. I am the artist. I am the photographer. I am the writer. I am the historian. I am the journalist. I am the truth. I am justice. I am right. I am strength. I am resolve. I am revenge. I am The Tiger.’

Alfonso sighed. He believed that I always ended on a boast. But why not? There were others singing my praises but still I sang my own. What I believed was inside me, which was god, that had to be recognised in this world. There was so much good that came from me, that transformed the reality around me. I had not lost every battle. I had won many. There were so many that I had touched, that I had given to. I was aware of my own power. And, I was the culture. I was the learning of Punjab, of India. I was six thousand years. I was greatness. If it did not come out, who would know what we were? Who would know the reality of the god?

the days of great sadness

25.03.2026

We had just finished some ice cream topped with chocolate buds, chocolate sweets and then both chocolate and raspberry sauce. Alfonso shone with the shine of a satiated stomach. I was telling him about Dhurandar 2 (The Brave Hero 2), which I had watched last night.

‘The film finished at about quarter past midnight.’

‘What time did you get home?’

‘Almost one. I went to sleep at about half past one in the morning.’

‘Why do you watch these action films? It is just violence and revenge.’

‘You are wrong. They are about honour. They are about protecting the family. They are about the duty of being a man and a hero, about attaining your revenge. They are about sacrifice and true grit. They are about energy and power. They are the films that relay our culture, the warrior culture. The hero is Punjabi. It is always about us. We are the superheroes of India and this world.’

‘Well I hope you indulged your bloodlust. You are going about London doing everything there is to do in this city. I hope you are happy.’

‘I have met my girlfriend many times recently. But despite this happiness, these are the days of absolute sadness. The days of great sadness. We look at his world. This wretched world. The real peace and happiness would be in death. This struggle that has gone on forever, this struggle for status and honour, for a just reward, for true diversity and equality, for the community, this endless striving. Then and finally then, it would be over. It is the days of death. We remember the ones that have died, our most beloved.’

‘And what philosophy is there to counter sadness?’

‘There is nothing that can counter sadness. There is nothing that can counter the suffering that The Oppressed have to face in this world. We fight our hardest against a cowardly and dishonourable foe. The whole world is our enemy.’

‘One man cannot fight the entire world.’

‘From birth, you contend with the fairness of the allocation of resources. Milk, love, food, money, recognition, power and status. If I had ever been content with the share that I received, that we have received, then I would lay down my arms. Then I would forget my sadness, our sadness. But this resource allocation has always been unfair. It is unfair. And therefore, The Tiger bares his teeth. He shows his claws. In the essence of The Tiger there is this great gaping wound, sadness.’

‘You who have chased every happiness, you have everything noble and great in this world, everything, how can you be sad? You are the most fortunate. You are the one they envy. Hindu philosophy says sadness and happiness are unreal. Emotion is a cloud.

‘Humne apnein shakaal ke dorh dikhai gaheen aini ke gum mein

Chahein hai humnein uske tudkhrein ekh mudat sein’.

‘We have seen the run of our shape in the sadness of the mirror

We have wanted its shards for an age’.

the attempt to make life beautiful

22.03.2026

A: You are always telling me that you are trying to make life beautiful.

S: I do make life beautiful. Today, I had a wonderful day.

A: Why?

S: I work at the most beautiful places in the world, the most fascinating, the most interesting. However, I will not talk about work. I will talk about what I did outside of work.

A: What did you do?

S: In the first break in the morning, I shopped at the local Oxfam Charity Bookshop. I bought several books, including those on typography, writings from women travellers and also an exquisite little tome on gardens.

A: Then, at lunch?

S: I went down to the National Maritime Museum and went through the Astronomy Photographer of the Year exhibition. I had a wonderful time immersed in space, nebulae and the planets. I was travelling there. I saw a beautiful video about a couple that went on an adventure to photograph the Northern Lights, such a nice and kind woman, such an aid to the photographer. It was heartwarming.

A: The next thing?

S: Another break and this time I went aboard The Cutty Sark to gaze at the views around me on a boat. Followed by a cheap snack at Macdonald’s.

A: Then after work?

S: A visit to Canary Wharf to look over the buildings and the waterfront. Then a shopping expedition to Marks and Spencer’s where I picked up some wonderful dessert and tomorrow’s lunch, Thai Red Curry and Sweet and Sour Chicken. I then ambled about in the park at Canary Wharf where I sat amidst the cherry blossoms and camelias, having a conversation on the phone with my girlfriend.

A: Then when you got home?

S: I had a feast for dinner. It was chicken and spinach curry with freshly prepared chapattis. The salad was wonderful: tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce of two descriptions, red onions and a special favourite – mooli (parsnips) with garam masala. This was also washed down with 100% lychee juice and a glass of water. For dessert, I had an M & S trifle of peach, pears and pineapple.

A: To end the night?

S: Duty, my friend. There is always duty. I sat with my mother while she watched a video of an Indian wedding for a few minutes. Then, I wrote a newspaper article for the charity that I work on, a newspaper article about Punjab, the home of my people. While listening to world music instrumentals on Spotify.

A: You pack in a lot.

S: My energy and my curiosity, my greed for life, all of these are boundless. I want to live a full life and I do. It is the life I dreamed of. The life of an intellectual, the life of a lover, the life of an artist.

A: To finish the night?

S: The girlfriend again. A hot shower. Perhaps some reading. This mind needs fuel and love.

the flattery of the echo

17.03.2026

S: Recently, someone used the exact phrase that I used to describe something in a private communication when they were making a more public announcement.

A: Out of all the private messages that she got, she used your words?

S: Yes, my praise must have pleased her.

A: So she echoed you?

S: It was the flattery of the echo.

A: Analysis?

S: It could be a number of things. First of all, I am a writer. She might have thought it was the phrase that was the most apt. Perhaps when she was going ahead to write something that was semi-public to the small group, she wanted to model herself on a writer.

A: Perhaps.

S: But you also have to remember the relationship. She knew that I would know that she had echoed my phrase. After all, I wrote it. She was communicating to me that she was echoing my phrase.

A: For what reason?

S: Mirroring is a form of sociability, so is echoing. She was establishing a community between me and herself in the semi-public realm of this small group as she wrote to everyone. A community based on a written message.

A: Any other speculations?

S: There is a suggestion of emotion. I talked about my emotions in this phrase, about how I enjoyed something and how I would remember it. And she herself must have mirrored my emotions, enjoying my praise and remembering it.

A: You are a striking man. Some people are impressed by you.

S: That is exactly the right word, ‘impress’. Because I stamped myself onto her. Change in the world is driven by our influence on others and I can shape those around me.

A: Enough of this ego. Let’s get on with life.

S: Yes. I have a big assignment due in for university. There is never any time for anything but study and work. And yet, life happens and I live life too. Genius demands.

being boundlessly busy

16.03.2026

A: What is it like being busy all of the time?

S: It’s been going on all of my life. It’s what I’m used to.

A: But how is it going?

S: There is never any time for anything. Yet everything somehow gets done.

A: It is all a massive investment of time, labour and love. Isn’t it all really draining?

S: Isn’t everything?

A: What makes it work work? What is the nitty and gritty of it?

S: My mother handles everything at home. I organise everything ruthlessly. I don’t dilly and dally, I just do things. I rush everything. I am super quick as a person. I do everything straight away when I get time, on my breaks and lunch breaks, walking to and fro from places, on the commute. Besides that, I have a remarkable memory, touch type really fast and, as I often say many times, I am a genius.

A: Why do you boast so much?

S: In a honour culture, boasting is tolerated. Because it is an honour culture.

A: These that read, none of them are not Punjabi. They hold it against you.

S: False modesty is hypocritical. I am objectively a genius based on my work. The magnus opus is still unpublished but it is in first draft form. In any case, this culture would dishonour me and treat me as nothing. This is not true. I am special. I am the kind of thinker that comes every few hundred years. It is just an objective fact. Even people around me recognise that I can just go into any field and know it all. I am the last generalist in a culture of specialists. My mind is more plastic than everyone else’s. That is another reason why I can cope with being busy at this level. So, to answer your question, the more they try to put me down, the more I congratulate myself for being myself. The more that they attack my identity and devalue it, the more value that I put into it.

A: Narcissistic defence.

S: The appreciation of real value. They can’t appreciate or reward real value. They are exploitative, prejudiced and, compared to me, they are all lazy and incapable. I am the best. Objective fact. And the other thing? They have never let me do anything. They have refused me all of the jobs that I wanted to do. So despite that, I am still doing all of these jobs on a voluntary basis or for free. It is spite that keeps me going, anger that keeps all of these plates spinning, the famous stubbornness of the Punjabi. It is the community that gives me strength and courage, skill and energy. The Mother Goddess Saraswati, Goddess of Learning, she has blessed her son in a world of ignorance, selfishness and hate. This genius that comes from the lower castes, who the whole world is against, despite them he has still achieved. That is why I am god. God accepts no limitation. I am the dream of India. The dream of The Mother. The Tiger.

tiredness

15.03.2026

S: I am tired.

A: You surprise me. You are always full of energy.

S: It is 23.41. I have been up since 6 am like I am most days, most good days when I can get up. In this day, I have been at work for eight hours. In the lunch times and breaks, I shopped at a charity bookshop and I went to have a chocolate cake at a cafe. After work, I hosted a charity event, a fundraising event. I encouraged, enthused and gave out prizes. Then I went to a pub with five of my friends. I’ve fitted in two phone calls with my girlfriend too. In the morning, I did light weights, push ups and stomach crunches and meditated. I also wrote and I arranged an interview with a gurdwara (Sikh Temple) for my journalism project to help the Dalits, the lower castes in Punjab.

A: If you keep on packing in stuff like that, you are going to get tired.

S: This life is too short. There is too much to do. There is the whole world to change for the better. They have asked me to be a hero. They expect. I have asked myself to be a hero. I expect. The work of a hero. For no reward.

A: Why work yourself to the limit for them? They would not do the same for you.

S: A hero works for others, not for himself. The king works for the kingdom. Not for himself.

A: You that see yourself as a hero and a king, they do not. They see you as a villain.

S: Whatever they see me as, when I look into the mirror I see someone that cares. That wants to change the world around him. That has not accepted defeat. Someone that will do his level best to perform for the people and The Mother that see him as their prayer. Someone that can build communities around himself.

A: And this feeling, this feeling of tiredness. Is it not saying to rest, to relax? To recharge?

S: What this feeling is saying is satisfaction. The satisfaction of tiredness. To make the world a better place. Having taken on a big challenge in fundraising and having achieved it with good results, much better than estimated or expected. The satisfaction of knowing that I can do whatever I set my sights on. I enjoy this tiredness. Honest work creates honest sleep. I have deserved this rest tonight.

the value of volunteering

14.03.2026

A: You volunteer a lot, don’t you?

S: Yes.

A: What exactly is it that you do?

S: Curation, Journalism, Research writing, Protecting the planet and nature, Inspiring the protection of the planet, Advocating to the government for the poor, Activism, Working with Human Resource Issues, Being a Newsletter Editor, Professional Photography, Fundraising, Events Organisation, Tour guiding, Explaining art, Teaching, Presenting…

A: Many hats. Many skills.

S: Everything that is needed and asked for, everything that is wanted. Yet, it impresses no one. Yet it brings in nothing for me personally.

A: Why do it then?

S: I’ve always wanted to be a good person. I’ve always wanted to build the community.

A: Don’t you think that you have done enough?

S: There is always more to do.

A: They would suck at the blood in your veins. They would keep you working and working.

S: People need help. I can help them.

A: What is the value of this volunteering?

S: Personal satisfaction. The right to look in the mirror. The use of the privilege that has been given to me through the lottery of life. The knowledge that I am a man. That I have used my gifts to benefit and improve this world. That I have touched countless lives and influenced for the better. The knowledge that I have not squandered my gifts.

A: In all this, there is no reward. They do not even care about your volunteering in interviews.

S: That is the worst thing about being a man and having honour, for serving the community. You get nothing out of it. That is the regret.

A: Why not keep the time for yourself?

S: There is a big difference between a man and a non-man. A man has a social conscience and integrity. He will work for the community. He has a big heart. A non-man has nothing and is nothing. You can’t ask me to become like these non-men. Because I am a man and I have a heart.

the enemy world

09.03.2026

S: This world is an enemy. One whose clutches you cannot escape.

A: You have become an enemy to this world.

S: I was born its enemy. To have a heart is to create a foe to what is.

A: Do you not think that others have hearts?

S: Where is the evidence for it? Because love is something that has to be shown.

A: No one has shown you love? You have a girlfriend.

S: It is only her that shows me love.

A: What do you do with this girlfriend?

S: Explore existence.

A: She sounds more like a philosopher than a girlfriend.

S: I will not tell what we do. Because there is the eye of envy. As well as the eye of ignorance. This world would destroy love. That is what this world is. If one were to describe it, it could be described as love killing.

A: Why do you say this?

S: Have you ever watched the traditional Indian film? Two fall in love. Then the whole world goes against them. Not only rivals in love and villains, but also families. All anyone can think of is to kill love. It is a world that kills love.

A: This is a movie.

S: Not at all. It is my own personal experience.

A: How so?

S: Even the ones you love want you to kill your love. Do you know what torture it is is when you love someone and you cannot have them? They want you to endure this torture. It is no wonder that Nietzsche went mad when he could not have the one that he loved.

A: You escaped madness. By a whisper.

S: And now, I have someone. And I hide her from this cruel world that would take her away from me and the cruel ones that would have all kill their love.

the unequal bargain between the world and the genius

05.03.2026

S: If you investigate thoroughly, you will see that life is not fair.

A: How so?

S: Look at these wars in Iran. What have the common people done to deserve these deaths and these atrocities? It is the politicians that have inspired the fight. Yet, who suffers? The innocent. It is always the innocent that suffer.

A: Sometimes you say the people are one with the politicians.

S: It is the dirtiness and the ubiquity and omnipotence of the state for these worshippers of the state. They do not have the courage to do without the state. They cannot rule themselves like we can. They are not powerful like we are. They do not believe in themselves. They believe in the state. Where we would see its death, all they want is to breathe their life into the state.

A: How else is life unfair?

S: The young, they will inherit a barren earth because of the selfishness and greed of these around us, their ignorance and apathy. The exploited of the earth have nothing. The ones that choose who will work and who will play, who can say that their decisions are fair? The lottery of life. I have been born into a country with wealth while others starve and sing for pennies.

A: A bad account of the world all around.

S: Have you ever also considered the unequal bargain between the world and the genius? The world gives the genius nothing but hate and apathy and misunderstanding. And the genius? Because of his wisdom, the genius gives the world everything as a gift. The fact that genius has to be a gift with no reward and no recognition tells you about this world. It is exploitation. It is cruelty. It is selfishness and greed. It is arrogance.

A: How can you change the unfairness of the world?

S: I will not be like them and lie to say that the world is fair. I will not close my eyes to the truth. I will call it out. What else is there? You think these will let the world become fair? Of course not. It serves them to be unfair and they benefit from its unfairness.