Tag: personal reflection

Why Our Parents Kept Friends for Life… and We Didn’t


I was thinking about something recently.

In my dad’s generation, I rarely heard of “friend breakups.”

He had a strong circle.
He stayed in touch with almost all of them.

Only one friend disappeared from his life.
Not because of ego.
Not because of misunderstanding.

But because that friend lost his son in his mid-50s…
He went into depression…
And slowly cut himself off from everyone.

My dad tried to find him.
But he became unreachable.

That was the only “lost friendship” story I heard.

Even after my dad passed away 12 years back,
his friends still call us…
check on us…
stay connected.

That bond didn’t end with him.

My mother’s story is even more surprising.

She grew up in a time when:

  • Landline phones were rare
  • Calls were expensive
  • No WhatsApp
  • No social media
  • Women had very limited freedom after marriage

Still…

After 20+ years, she reconnected with her school friends.
And now they are all in regular touch.

She says only a handful are missing.
Most are still connected.

No breakups.
No “we stopped talking.”

Now I look at my generation.

And I see something very different.

We have:

  • Mobile phones
  • Unlimited calls
  • WhatsApp, Instagram, LinkedIn
  • Video calls
  • Everything is instant

But still…

We lose people.

I have lost many close friends in my lifetime.
Not one. Not two. Many.

And I see the same pattern everywhere.

People drifting.
People disconnecting.
People breaking friendships.

So what changed?

1. Earlier: Fewer People, Deeper Bonds

Our parents had limited circles.
So they invested deeply in those few relationships.

We have hundreds of contacts.
But very few deep connections.

When options increase… value per relationship reduces.

2. Earlier: Ego Was Controlled by Need

They needed relationships.

Today, we can replace people easily.

One misunderstanding…
Instead of fixing it, we move on.

3. Earlier: Effort Was High → Value Was High

To stay in touch:

  • Write letters
  • Wait weeks
  • Make expensive calls

So they valued relationships.

Today:

  • One message is enough
  • But we don’t even send that

Ease has reduced emotional investment.

4. Today: We Expect Too Much

We expect:

  • Instant replies
  • Perfect understanding
  • Alignment in thinking

If someone doesn’t match…
We silently step away.

5. Life Complexity Has Increased

Career, money, stress, responsibilities…

Everyone is running.

Friendships are no longer a priority.
They become optional.

6. We Don’t Repair. We Replace.

This is the biggest shift.

Earlier:

They repaired relationships.

Today:

We replace people.

My Realisation

We think technology will keep us connected.

But connection is not about tools.

It is about:

  • effort
  • patience
  • tolerance
  • forgiveness

Our parents had less access…
But more commitment.

We have full access…
But less commitment.

Final Thought

Maybe the problem is not time.
Not technology.

Maybe the problem is this:

We gave up on people faster than the previous generation ever did.

He Didn’t Just Compose Music… He Composed My Life


I’ve always felt that is not just a musician.

He is a doctor.
A hypnotician.
A mesmerizer.
A saviour.
A giver of solace.

And yes… a musician too.

He started his journey a couple of years before I was born.
But when I was growing up, he was at his peak.

So I didn’t just grow up listening to songs…
I grew up living inside his music.

And I feel lucky about that.

Over time, I started noticing something.

His music behaves differently based on what I need.

When I am stressed or low, it calms me — like “Thenpandi Cheemayile”.
When I can’t sleep, it gently takes me into rest — like “Ilaya Nila”.
When I feel like celebrating, it makes me dance — like “Rakkamma Kaiya Thattu”.
When I need motivation, it pushes me forward — like “Ooru Vittu Ooru Vandhu”.
And when I want to feel something spiritual, it lifts me — like “Janani Janani”.

I don’t know music technically.

But I keep wondering…

What is inside him that can control our mind and body like this?

How can one person create sounds that:

  • calm your nerves
  • increase your energy
  • bring tears without reason
  • or give peace without explanation

It doesn’t feel like just music.

It feels like he understands human emotions deeply… and translates them into sound.

There is a famous line in :

“That’s the beauty of music. They can’t get that from you… Haven’t you ever felt that way about music?”

I feel like saying this in my own way:

“That’s the beauty of Raja sir’s music. No one can take that away from you… Haven’t you ever felt that way about music?”

People talk about his attitude or arrogance.

Maybe he has it. Maybe he doesn’t.

But I feel something simple.

When someone gives this much to the world…
when someone becomes part of millions of lives without even meeting them…

I think he has earned the right to be who he is.

For me, he didn’t just compose songs.

He composed memories.
He composed emotions.
He composed phases of my life.

And somewhere…

he composed a part of me too.

When I Used to Write Without Thinking


I wrote my first blog on my birthday — 25th February 2000.

There was no WordPress then.
There were no themes, plugins, or analytics.
There was a simple PHP script called Blogger.

I wrote because I wanted to.
Not because I had an audience.
Not because I had something to sell.

When I eventually moved to WordPress, I lost everything I had written in those first five years.
Those words are gone forever — like notebooks misplaced during a house move.

Today, it’s 26 years later.

What remains is not a perfect archive, but a living memory.
And below is my reflection on what it felt like to write — and to change — between 2000 and 2026.

I started blogging when the internet still made noise.

In those days, I didn’t think about branding.
I didn’t think about positioning.
I didn’t think about audience psychology.

I just wrote.

In 2009 alone, I wrote 349 posts.
Three hundred and forty-nine.

I don’t even remember writing half of them.

I was young.
Not in age alone — but in openness.

I wrote about business dreams I didn’t fully understand.
I wrote about failures while they were still bleeding.
I wrote about friendships, risks, banks, emotions, optimism.
I wrote like someone who believed the world was listening.

And maybe it was.

Not loudly.
Not virally.
But quietly.

Those years were not strategic.
They were volcanic.

Some posts were raw.
Some were immature.
Some were embarrassingly honest.
But they were alive.

Then life happened.

Responsibilities grew.
Losses matured me.
Experience sharpened me.
Trust became selective.

I didn’t stop writing.

I just stopped exposing.

The words became slower.
More structured.
More guarded.

Young Anand wrote to release.
Today’s Anand writes to reflect.

Back then I was open.

Now I am layered.

And sometimes I miss that reckless courage —
that version of me who hit “Publish” without overthinking permanence.

But maybe this is growth.

Not becoming silent.

Just becoming intentional.

If you’ve been around since those early days —
thank you.

If you’re new here —
you’re reading a man who once wrote 349 times in a year
and now writes when it truly matters.

Either way…

This is not a comeback.

This is continuity.

— S.Anand Nataraj

26 Years of Blogging… Hello? Echo? Hello?


I started blogging in the year 2000.

That was when:

  • Internet made sounds like a dying robot.
  • “Upload speed” was a philosophical concept.
  • And blogging meant typing your soul into HTML.

For 26 years, I’ve written through dial-up, broadband, 3G, 4G, and now whatever-G we are in. I’ve written during my golden years, my rebuilding years, my confused years, and my “what am I even doing?” years.

Some posts were read. Some were shared. Some probably helped someone. Some probably confused even me.

But here’s the truth.

Somewhere along the way, the world moved.

From: Reading → Listening
Listening → Watching
Watching → Scrolling
Scrolling → Forgetting

And I stayed here. Typing.

Not because I can’t make videos.
Not because I can’t shout into a mic.
But because writing feels honest.

When I write, I think. When I think, I slow down. When I slow down, I become real.

But lately, I have a doubt.

Am I still writing to humans?
Or just to:

  • Google bots
  • SEO algorithms
  • Or my loyal WiFi router blinking in sympathy?

So this is not a motivational post.
Not a business insight.
Not a life lesson.

This is a reality check.

If you’re still here… If you still prefer reading over reels… If long-form thoughts still matter to you…

Drop a comment.

Just say: “I’m here.”

No drama. No philosophy. Just proof of life.

Because after 26 years, I don’t need virality.

I just need to know — Is the tribe still alive?

– S.Anand Nataraj