Selamat Datang from the beautiful Cameron Highlands! We’re here as a family to celebrate a milestone anniversary. I remember coming to this beautiful Malaysian hill station many years back, before the children were born, and coming back after so long, I could see how much it has changed over the years. We drove in from Singapore, stopping overnight in Kuala Lumpur before driving to Cameron Highlands, and we will return the same way.
Today’s proverb is from China and is not attributed to anyone, but is a clear and timeless reminder that big goals are achieved through small, consistent steps. We often look at challenges as enormous, immovable obstacles. A new habit, a long-term project, a personal transformation, or a career shift, these can feel like mountains. The size alone can overwhelm us before we even start. But this proverb challenges that mindset. It tells us that nothing is too big to tackle if you’re willing to break it down. Mountains don’t disappear in one grand gesture; they fade through steady effort. Small stones represent manageable tasks, the little actions that seem insignificant in the moment but gradually accumulate into real progress.
It’s also a lesson in patience. Modern life pushes us to expect instant results, but meaningful change rarely works that way. This proverb encourages humility and persistence. Even when it feels like you’re barely making a dent, every stone you move matters. Over time, those small actions build momentum. Before you know it, what once felt impossible starts to feel achievable. There’s also a subtle encouragement here: don’t wait for the perfect moment or a surge of motivation. Just begin. The first stone might be the hardest to lift, but once you do, the next one becomes easier. And finally, this proverb reminds us that perseverance transforms us. As we keep showing up, stone after stone, we grow stronger, more disciplined, and more confident. The mountain changes, yes, but so do we.
GG came back from her school trip, and the next day, we travelled to Malaysia. She was so tired and pretty much slept on the way to KL. I’ll share more about the trip and photos in a later post.
Today’s motivation post is about acceptance. It’s normal to struggle with acceptance. Accepting that something has ended doesn’t mean it didn’t matter to you. You’ve lived it and learned from it. It did add value to your life, but now it’s no longer there. Allow yourself to grieve the future you once dreamed of. By facing the reality of what is, you can finally begin to heal. Acceptance is letting go while also creating space for the possibilities that are waiting for you. The unknown may hold something more beautiful than you ever imagined. Pour your energy into growing something new.
That’s all I have for you this week. Stay positive and keep smiling!
Airplane Mode: An Irreverent History of Travel – Shahnaz Habib
A playful personal and cultural history of travel from a postcolonial, person-of-color perspective, Airplane Mode asks: what does it mean to be a joyous traveler when we live in the ruins of colonialism, capitalism and climate change?
For Shahnaz Habib, an Indian Muslim woman, travel has always been a complicated pleasure. Yet, journeys at home and abroad have profoundly shaped her life. In this inquiring and surprising debut, Habib traces a history of travel from pilgrimages to empires to safaris, taking on colonialist modes of thinking about travel and asking who gets to travel and who gets to write about it.
Threaded through the book are inviting and playful analyses of obvious and not-so-obvious travel artifacts: passports, carousels, bougainvilleas, guidebooks, expressways, the idea of wanderlust. Together, they tell a subversive history of travel as a Euro-American mode of consumerism—but as any traveler knows, travel is more than that. As an immigrant whose loved ones live across continents, Habib takes a deeply curious and joyful look at a troubled and beloved activity.
Perched high on the rugged hills of Junnar in Pune district, the Girijatmaj Temple at Lenyadri is a remarkable confluence of natural beauty, ancient history, and deep spiritual resonance. Unique among the eight Ashtavinayak shrines dedicated to Lord Ganesha, Girijatmaj is the only temple set atop a mountain and carved into a single monolithic rock within a complex of ancient Buddhist caves. Here, Ganesha is worshipped as the “son of Girija”, another name for Goddess Parvati, and the temple is a living testament to the power of maternal devotion, the endurance of faith, and the seamless blending of India’s Buddhist and Hindu heritages.
Lenyadri, also known as Ganesh Lena or Ganesh Pahar, is located about 95 km from Pune and 5 km from Junnar. The temple sits at the heart of a cluster of 30 rock-cut Buddhist caves, which date back to the 1st–3rd centuries AD and are scattered along a cliff face. The caves overlook the Kukadi River valley, offering breathtaking views of the surrounding green hills, especially after the monsoon when the landscape is lush and vibrant. To reach the temple, pilgrims and visitors must climb 307–315 stone steps, flanked by playful monkeys and mountain streams. The ascent is both a physical and spiritual journey, with the panoramic vistas and the cool mountain air preparing the mind for the sanctity that awaits at the summit.
The story of Girijatmaj is rooted in the deep yearning of Goddess Parvati for a child. According to the Ganesh Purana, after taking the form of Parvati, having previously been Sati, the goddess desired to have Ganesha as her son. She chose the caves of Lenyadri, then known as Jirnapur or Lekhan Parbat, as her place of penance. For twelve years, Parvati performed intense austerities and prayers inside these caves, seeking the blessing of motherhood.
Pleased by her unwavering devotion, Lord Ganesha granted her wish. On the auspicious day of Bhadrapada Shuddha Chaturthi, or Ganesh Chaturthi, Parvati scraped the dirt from her body, mixed it with oil and ointment, and fashioned an idol of Ganesha. As she worshipped this idol, it miraculously came to life, and Ganesha declared that he had incarnated as her son, as desired. Shiva later named the child Ganesh, meaning “one who keeps the three qualities: Satva, Raja, and Tama, under control.” Ganesha spent his childhood at Lenyadri, and for fifteen years, the caves were his playground and home.
The caves of Lenyadri are also the backdrop for several of Ganesha’s legendary childhood adventures. According to the Ganesh Purana, the demon king Sindhu, forewarned that his death would come at the hands of Ganesha, sent a series of demons—Krur, Balasur, Vyomasur, Kshemma, and Kushal—to kill the young deity. Ganesha, even as a child, vanquished all his adversaries and performed many playful miracles, or balleelas, in and around the caves. These stories are cherished by devotees and add to the temple’s aura of divine protection and joy.
The Lenyadri caves were originally carved as Buddhist viharas and chaityas, monastic dwellings and prayer halls, during the Hinayana phase of Buddhism, between the 1st and 3rd centuries AD. Of the approximately 30 caves, most served as monastic quarters, while a few were chapels. Cave 7, which now houses the Girijatmaj Temple, was originally a vihara, a communal hall for monks.
Over centuries, as Buddhism waned and Hinduism reasserted itself in the region, the caves were adapted for Hindu worship. The transformation of Cave 7 into a Ganesha shrine is a striking example of India’s syncretic religious history, where sacred spaces evolve and retain their spiritual significance across faiths.
The entire temple is hewn from a single rock, with no separate structural additions. This gives the temple its cool, serene ambience, regardless of the weather outside. The main hall, the sabha-mandapa, is a spacious, unpillared chamber measuring 53 feet long, 51 feet wide, and 7 feet high. It contains 20 cells of varying sizes, originally used by Buddhist monks. The central entrance is flanked by two windows, and a pillared veranda leads into the hall. The sanctum is not a separate structure but a niche in the back wall of the cave. The image of Ganesha is not a free-standing idol but a relief carved directly into the stone wall. The idol faces east, with its trunk turned to the left, and only one eye is visible. The icon is covered in indoor, or vermilion, in keeping with the tradition of Ashtavinayak temples. During the day, sunlight streams into the sanctum, bathing the idol in a celestial glow and enhancing the temple’s mystical atmosphere. The temple lacks a separate shikhara, or spire; gopuram, or gateway; or ornate carvings typical of Hindu temples, emphasising its monastic origins and simplicity.
The temple opens early in the morning and closes at sunset. Devotees offer flowers, durva grass, and modaks to the deity. The idol, being part of the rock, is not adorned with clothes or ornaments but is anointed with sindoor and sometimes oil. Ritual bathing, abhishek and aarti, and the waving of lamps are performed daily. Devotees can sponsor abhishek or aarti as a special offering. Circumambulation, or pradakshina, of the temple is performed within the main hall, as the structure is carved into the mountain. The most important festival is Ganesh Chaturthi, or Bhadrapada Shuddha Chaturthi, when thousands of pilgrims climb the steps to offer prayers. Special aartis, abhisheks, and communal feasting mark the occasion. Other festivals like Maghi Ganesh Jayanti, which is Ganesha’s birthday, and Sankashti Chaturthi, a monthly festival, are also celebrated with great devotion.
Many devotees undertake the climb of 307–315 steps barefoot as an act of penance or to fulfil vows, believing that the effort itself invokes Ganesha’s blessings. The temple’s monastic origins and serene setting make it a favoured spot for meditation and quiet contemplation. The absence of loud music or elaborate rituals preserves the cave’s tranquil atmosphere.
The name “Girijatmaj” combines “Girija,” another name for Parvati, the daughter of the mountain, and “Atmaj,” or son, emphasising Ganesha’s identity as the beloved child of Parvati. The temple thus celebrates the bond between mother and son, and by extension, the nurturing, protective aspect of the divine.
Girijatmaj is the only Ashtavinayak temple located on a mountain, symbolising the spiritual ascent a devotee must undertake to reach the divine. The physical climb is a metaphor for the inner journey of discipline, faith, and perseverance. The temple’s setting within a Buddhist vihara highlights the fluidity of India’s religious traditions. The peaceful coexistence of Buddhist and Hindu elements is a powerful reminder of the region’s pluralistic heritage.
Girijatmaj is traditionally the sixth temple visited on the Ashtavinayak pilgrimage, though the order can vary. Its unique location and the legend of Ganesha’s birth make it a highlight of the yatra. Pilgrims often combine their visit with a trek through the other caves, exploring the rich tapestry of Buddhist art and architecture that surrounds the temple.
The Girijatmaj Temple at Lenyadri is a living symbol of faith, perseverance, and the enduring bond between mother and child. Its legends speak of penance rewarded, demons vanquished, and the joy of divine play. Its architecture, carved from living rock, stands as a testament to the artistry and spiritual vision of ancient India.
Brilliant Maps for Curious Minds: 100 New Ways to See the World – Ian Wright
Which countries don’t have rivers? Which ones have North Korean embassies? Who drives on the “wrong” side of the road? How many national economies are bigger than California’s? And where can you still find lions in the wild? You’ll learn answers to these questions and many more in Brilliant Maps for Curious Minds. This one-of-a-kind atlas is packed with eye-opening analysis (Which nations have had female leaders?), whimsical insight (Where can’t you find a McDonald’s?), and surprising connections that illuminate the contours of culture, history, and politics.
Each of these 100 maps will change the way you see the world—and your place in it.
Silence is not merely the absence of sound; it is a language of its own, speaking in whispers that words cannot capture. It holds the weight of anticipation before a storm, the quiet understanding between two souls, and the hush of dawn before the world awakens. Silence can be peaceful, comforting, or deafening in its intensity, revealing emotions that need no voice. Today’s poem explores the unspoken symphony of quiet moments, where meaning lingers in stillness.
The Music of Silence
There is music in the hush of dawn, In golden light on dewdrop lawns. A melody soft, yet bright and clear, A silent tune the heart can hear.
The pages turn, the world stands still, A whispered pause, a breath to fill. Between each note, a space, a rest, Where silence hums its song the best.
A lover’s glance, a knowing smile, No words are needed to reconcile. A lull between the waves so wide, Where longing sways like a shifting tide.
Before the storm, the air holds tight, A quiet drumbeat laced with might. The thunder waits, the earth holds fast, A hush before the skies are cast.
Silence sings in ways unknown, In echoes deep and undertones. Not emptiness, but something more, A song of all that came before.
So listen close, embrace the sound, Where quiet truths are softly found. For in the hush, the still, the space, Silence hums with quiet grace.
Memories and Such 