Sujeet Sharma

Mon, July 27, 2026 2:05 AM • Delhi

Nothing productive from the weekend but the day spent well with machines.

I don't feel like riding bikes the way I used to feel during my college days and till 2015. But my love for these beautiful machines remains unchanged.

And this reminds me—it's been a long time since I last rode my Classic 350. Maybe I'll take it out for a ride next weekend.

24 July 2026 • 7:33 AM • Delhi (Metro)

The quiet mornings of this city still remind me that, away from the crowds, it remains much the same as it was when there were fewer people.

The part of Delhi where I grew up has changed a lot over the years. The narrow roads have become much wider, and most of the trees that once lined them have been cut down to make way for development. The Yamuna has become even more polluted. Yet, there are still a few places where patches of earth remain untouched, where people continue to cultivate the land.

One morning and one photograph are enough to bring those memories back—the peaceful mornings and the lush green fields that once felt so ordinary, yet now seem so precious.

Tue, 21 July 2026 • 1:50 AM • Delhi

Silence in the face of injustice is often seen as acceptance. Sometimes, you have to raise your voice, even if it goes unheard.

Monday, 20 July 2026 • 2:30 AM Delhi

The day was spent well at home; the weather was nice, and I had plans for a few visits, and one was for Teen Murti Bhavan, but it didn’t happen as other visits were cancelled.

I slept for a few hours, and that was not a good idea because now I am sleepless at midnight and have to go to the office tomorrow. I feel reading is a bit engaging, but nowadays it seems more challenging to focus; maybe due to the weather, it makes me sleepy most of the time during the daytime.

I spent a few minutes scrolling through X, and it left me feeling disturbed. The conversations seem louder than ever, yet meaningful discussions often feel quieter. Whether it's food adulteration, deforestation, or public policies, ordinary people often have little choice but to adapt to the changes around them.

At times, it feels like the concerns of ordinary people and the environment don't receive as much attention as they should. Decisions often seem to be shaped more by economic priorities than by everyday realities. This isn't about any one political party—I find myself thinking the same way regardless of who is in power.

So, deciding to not check the X anymore and letting's go with the flow. I wrote a few things about some tax changes in Bihar, as I don’t think that the current government is working in favor of the public, and it’s useless even if the people there voted in greed, so they have to face the consequences…what my posts can do, and I shouldn’t think about that as nothing will change.

Posted another thought about telecom companies' loot, especially Airtel, which I never liked; maybe Jio will also follow, and then Vi will also do without any choice. Airtel has limited the use of 5G on hotspots, which doesn’t seem like a fair decision. If you’re limiting and charging high for 5G, then what’s the purpose of that? Gone are the days when telecom companies were competing for service, and now both Jio and Airtel are competing for loot. TRAI is useless as usual; they don’t have any control over these companies and they feel like mute spectator.

Maybe writing about these concerns are useless and a waste of time. Nothing will change, and there is no option at all. Better adapt and move on.

It's probably a little late to realize this, especially after wasting two days, but I think I should start planning an outing every Sunday or Saturday. That way, I'll avoid sleeping through the afternoon. Maybe I could visit a museum, explore a historical place, or spend a few hours at a library. I had planned to visit the newly opened library — Jaiprakash Narayan Public Library yesterday, but I ended up missing it.

Sunday, 12 July 2026 • 10:45 PM Delhi

Wed, 8 July 2026 • 2:40 AM • Delhi

I was thinking about time today, and then I found a Casio watch lying in my drawer — the black one, round dial, no strap. Just seeing it pulled me straight back to my college days, when I used to wear it on alternate days with another watch, a rectangular one. I had a whole collection of vintage Casios that I wore through my school years.

Wearing a watch made me feel like I respected time, like I was someone who took it seriously rather than someone who let it slip past unnoticed. And my father liked seeing it on my wrist. That mattered more to me than I probably admitted at the time.

Whenever he came back from Dubai, he would ask me if my watch was still working and every now and then, he'd bring a new one for me on his own, and I'd keep it carefully with me.

Two of those watches I gave away to my uncles — one was a vintage Casio Solar, the other an analog Casio with a round dial. I still think about them sometimes. My elder uncle had given me a Seiko 5 in exchange back then, which he later took back. A few years ago, I actually spotted it again, back in Bihar but that wasn't working.

During school, I didn't really understand the value of any of this. If a watch's battery died, I'd just put it away — I never once thought to take it to a watch mechanic and get the cell replaced. I wouldn't even tell my father; I'd just say I'll get it fixed later and let it sit. A few watches got lost along the way too, here and there. It was only from college onward that I started keeping my watches carefully, as memories rather than just things to tell time.

Today, after all these years, when I looked at these two strapless watches, that whole time came rushing back — and it made me go through the rest of my watches too, most of which have been sitting dead for a long time now. Almost all of them were gifts from my father. There's just one exception — a Tommy Hilfiger, the first one I ever bought for myself.

These watches remind me of my father, and they remind me of what it felt like to wear one. After he passed, I never really felt like wearing a watch again and maybe there was no one left to notice the bareness of my wrist, or the watch on it, anyway. But today I picked up the Casio Vintage Solar and even after years of sitting unused, it was still faintly blinking. This is the second-last watch my father ever bought me. The last one is the gold one. There was another solar watch that came with this one, which I'd given to my uncle back then because I already had the same model. And this one says Made in Japan Y — which makes it that much more special to me.

If there's one thing I'd change, it's this. I always wanted to give a watch to my father. I kept telling myself I'd buy him a really good watch someday. That day kept getting pushed further away, the way good intentions always do, until there was no day left for it at all.

So right now, this Casio Vintage Solar is still on my wrist, though its weak battery means it barely shows the time in the dark anymore. I'll charge it tomorrow, and start wearing my watches again. The rest of the ones that have stopped, I'll get their batteries replaced too. And there's a Seiko that needs repairing as well.

Let's see how much of this I can get done this weekend.

And a song I would like to share... Hopefully we can relate this with time.

Every year, June brings the quiet hope of the first petrichor and ready fields. But this year, the skies remained stubbornly clear. Here is where India's 2026 monsoon stands right now:

India's 2026 southwest monsoon opened June with a 40% rainfall deficit, and by month's end the country was still running 41–46% below normal for the season. The shortfall was geographically uneven: Central India was hit hardest at -50%, followed by East and Northeast India, including Bihar, at -40%, the South Peninsula at -27%, and Northwest India at -31%, where the monsoon had yet to fully arrive in several areas.

Three factors compounded to produce this deficit: a strengthening El Niño, an unfavourable Madden-Julian Oscillation, and a scarcity of low-pressure systems over the North Indian Ocean that typically channel rainfall into central and eastern India. This was not unforeseen — IMD's pre-season forecast had already assigned an 84% probability to below-normal or deficient rainfall.

The consequences extend beyond the numbers: disrupted kharif sowing, groundwater stress, reduced reservoir levels, and pressure on rural incomes in states already navigating other structural challenges. While July may bring partial recovery, forecasters caution that below-normal rainfall could persist through much of the month — meaning a strong second half of the season cannot fully offset an already compromised sowing window.

Perhaps the greatest danger is not a weak monsoon itself, but becoming indifferent to these warning signs.

The death of Bharat Tiwari has sparked intense debate, but beyond the headlines and political narratives, a few fundamental questions remain.

If he had surrendered, the public deserves to know why the situation ended the way it did.

If he had not, then the evidence should be made transparent and subjected to independent scrutiny.

What is equally concerning is how quickly labels can replace facts. Describing someone as "mentally unstable" should never become a substitute for due process, accountability, or a fair investigation.

In a democracy:

Criticism of the system is not a crime

Public institutions earn trust through transparency, not assumptions

Truth emerges through evidence, not competing narratives

Whatever one's views, an impartial investigation is essential—not only for justice in this case, but also for maintaining public faith in the rule of law.

A view from my bus journey (unplanned).

I wasn't planning to travel by bus, but getting a Tatkal ticket from Siwan Junction (Bihar) to Delhi has become nearly impossible.

This is my fourth bus journey, and while it has been a pleasant one, I still hope Indian Railways improves its services. Trains remain the most practical and comfortable option for many, especially elderly travelers.

6 Jun 2026 — 7:02 PM

The distant horn of a train reminds me that I am only a traveler, and one day I will have to gather my memories, pack my days, and move ahead.

Dil ke har kone mein tera hi naam rehta hai.

Log kehte hain waqt sab kuch bhula deta hai,

May 29, 2026

The sun goes down, the sky turns gold, and for a few quiet moments, everything feels exactly where it belongs.

Nothing extraordinary— just an evening in my hometown, and a heart full of peace. 🌅✨

It is a gesture of solidarity. But I wonder—100+ lives were lost in storms in Uttar Pradesh last week. Where was the same public acknowledgment at home?

If you have ever tried booking a train ticket on a Bihar route, especially during holidays, festivals, or even in urgent situations, you probably know how stressful it can be. For many people, it does not feel like a simple travel booking—it feels like a battle against time, demand, and a system that often seems unable to handle it.

Bihar is one of those states from where lakhs of people regularly travel to other parts of India for work, education, business, and livelihood. This is not a hidden reality. For decades, migration has been a major part of Bihar’s story. Families are spread across Delhi, Mumbai, Punjab, Gujarat, Bangalore, and many other cities because people move out in search of opportunities that they often struggle to find within the state itself.

If this is such a well-known reality, then a simple question arises: why do train services still not seem to match this demand?

Every year, the same struggle repeats itself. Tickets get booked within minutes, waiting lists become endless, and Tatkal booking feels almost impossible. In emergencies, when someone genuinely needs to travel urgently, the stress becomes even worse. Sometimes the IRCTC website struggles, sometimes tickets disappear instantly, and many people are left frustrated with no option but to spend extra money on agents, flights, or uncertain alternatives.

And this is not just about inconvenience.

For millions of migrant workers and middle-class families, trains are not a luxury—they are a lifeline. A student traveling back for exams, a worker returning home during festivals, someone rushing because of a family emergency, or parents visiting children working outside the state—these journeys matter deeply.

The bigger concern is that Bihar’s migration numbers clearly show the scale of this need, yet railway capacity on many major routes still feels inadequate. More people are traveling, but passengers often feel like infrastructure has not kept pace with reality.

This issue also reflects something larger. Bihar continues to send a huge workforce to other states because employment and industrial opportunities remain limited. And even for those millions who leave to earn a living elsewhere, basic transport remains a struggle.

People do not expect miracles. They expect practical solutions.

More trains on high-demand routes. Better capacity planning. A booking system that works smoothly during peak demand. Reliable Tatkal access in genuine emergencies. And most importantly, a railway system that understands that Bihar routes are not “seasonal” demand routes—they are some of the busiest lifelines in the country.

Railways are not just about transport. For millions of families, they are about livelihood, connection, and reaching home.

15 नवंबर 2000। भारत के नक्शे पर एक नई पंक्ति खींची जाती है। झारखंड अलग राज्य बन जाता है। और बिहार? बिहार को सबसे समृद्ध, सबसे औद्योगिक, और सबसे खनिज-संपन्न हिस्सा छीन लिया जाता है।

यह दिन बिहार के आर्थिक इतिहास में सबसे काला दिन बन गया। और बदतर बात यह है कि इसके बाद के 25 सालों में—चाहे कोई भी सरकार रही हो—किसी ने इसकी भरपाई करने का ईमानदारी से कोशिश नहीं की।

क्या खोया था बिहार?

झारखंड अलग होने के बाद बिहार को क्या नुकसान हुआ, यह आंकड़े बताते हैं:

75% औद्योगिक क्षमता चली गई – धनबाद, बोकारो, जमशेदपुर, रांची जैसे स्टील और कोल हब सब झारखंड चले गए।

60% राजस्व खोया – जो राजस्व बिहार को आता था, उसका 60% प्रतिशत अचानक खत्म हो गया।

75% खनिज संपदा चली गई – कोयला, लोहा, अभ्रक, बॉक्साइट... सब झारखंड के पास।

बचा क्या? उपजाऊ मैदान, बड़ी आबादी, और खोखली राजनीतिक बातें।

अब बिहार की प्रति व्यक्ति आय मात्र ₹62,356 है जबकि राष्ट्रीय औसत ₹200,000+ है। 33.8% गरीबी दर है—देश में सबसे ज्यादा। और 8 मिलियन लोग काम की तलाश में दूसरे राज्यों में जा चुके हैं।

वाजपेयी-काल में "विकास का ढोल"

साल 2000 में जब अटल बिहारी वाजपेयी की NDA सरकार थी, तब भी एक दिलचस्प बात हुई। विधानसभा चुनावों में लालू का RJD सबसे बड़ी पार्टी बनी, लेकिन बहुमत नहीं पाया। तब नीतीश कुमार (तब समता पार्टी में थे) को BJP के समर्थन से मुख्यमंत्री बनाया गया।

अब सवाल उठता है: क्या यह सिर्फ राजनीतिक संयोग था, या लालू को कमजोर करने की सुनियोजित रणनीति?

सच कहूं तो यह सिर्फ संयोग था। झारखंड अलग करने की मांग 100 साल पुरानी थी—1912 से। आदिवासी आंदोलन, छोटानागपुर की अलग पहचान, खनिज संपदा पर नियंत्रण—ये सब बातें वाजपेयी के जमाने से पहले से थीं। Congress ने भी समर्थन दिया, RJD ने भी विरोध किया, और BJP ने "चुनावी वचन" के नाम पर तत्काल यह काम निपटा दिया।

लेकिन झारखंड अलग करते समय किसी ने यह नहीं सोचा कि बिहार का क्या होगा?

बिहार के पुनर्विकास के लिए कोई "विशेष आर्थिक पैकेज" नहीं दिया गया। कोई "विशेष श्रेणी का दर्जा" नहीं दिया गया। सिर्फ खोखले सुधारों की बातें कीं। वाजपेयी के 6 साल की सरकार में कुछ रेल प्रोजेक्ट और सड़कें बनीं, लेकिन औद्योगीकरण कभी नहीं हुआ। गेहूं की पैदावार बढ़ी, स्टील की नहीं।

मोदी का ₹1.25 लाख करोड़ का सपना (2015-2026)

2015 में जब नरेंद्र मोदी बिहार में चुनाव प्रचार करने गए, तो एक बड़ा वादा किया: "₹1.25 लाख करोड़ का विशेष आर्थिक पैकेज।"

11 साल बीत गए। 2026 आ गया। आज तक वह पैकेज कहां है?

वह सरकार अपनी चीनी मिलों का वादा भी पूरा नहीं कर सकी जो 40 साल से बंद थीं। "विशेष श्रेणी का दर्जा"? नीति आयोग के नियमों के तहत "फीजिबल नहीं।" इसलिए कुछ "विशेष अनुदान" देने की बातें हो रहीं हैं, लेकिन वो भी अभी तक कागज पर ही हैं।

असली समस्या क्या है?

यह सिर्फ किसी एक पार्टी की विफलता नहीं है। यह संरचनात्मक दुर्लक्ष्य है।

जब झारखंड अलग किया गया, तो:

तत्काली राजनीतिक लाभ (लालू को कमजोर करना, आदिवासी वोट) की सोच थी।

दीर्घकालीन नियोजन (बिहार का पुनर्विकास) की कोई सोच नहीं थी।

संवैधानिक जिम्मेदारी (बाकी भारत की तरह बिहार को भी विकास देना) को भूल दिया गया।

2000 से लेकर आज तक, हर सरकार ने बिहार से चुनावी समर्थन लिया, लेकिन वापसी में कुछ नहीं दिया।

बिहार का भविष्य?

आज बिहार की स्थिति ऐसी है:

कृषि-आश्रित अर्थव्यवस्था (सेवा क्षेत्र 58%, कृषि 20%, उद्योग सिर्फ 21%)।

बेरोजगारी के कारण बड़े पैमाने पर बाहर जाना।

शिक्षा और स्वास्थ्य में पिछड़ापन।

राजनीतिक अस्थिरता जो विकास को रोकती है।

क्या यह अपरिहार्य था? नहीं। अगर वाजपेयी 2000 में झारखंड अलग करते समय बिहार के लिए ठोस अर्थव्यवस्था का ढांचा तैयार कर देते, या मोदी 2015 में अपने ₹1.25 लाख करोड़ के वादे को ईमानदारी से पूरा कर देते, तो बिहार की कहानी अलग होती।

लेकिन नहीं हुआ। और इसीलिए बिहार आज भी भारत का सबसे गरीब, सबसे पिछड़ा, और सबसे उपेक्षित राज्य है।

यह सिर्फ आंकड़ों का खेल नहीं है। यह 8 मिलियन लोगों के मजदूरी करने की बाध्यता है। यह 10 करोड़ बिहारवासियों के सपनों की हत्या है।