
When Was the Last Time?
- Isha Dave
- Jul 31
- 4 min read
If you need pictures to read through this blog your not my audience š¤£
Today, suddenly, I felt like writing this.
because I had a free hour (I didnāt), not because my toādo list got shorter (it grew), but because in the middle of a very ordinary corporate Tuesday I caught my reflection in a lift mirror and didnāt recognise the person sprinting from one āurgentā to another. I asked myself, *What am I doing?* And more honestly: *What am I not doing?*
When was the last time you took your mom out for coffeeājust the two of you, no screens, no hurryāsat across from her and let the conversation wander to childhood recipes and the neighboursā mango tree? When was the last time you chopped onions while she seasoned the dal, and you paid attention to how her hands move, the way she hums without noticing?
When was the last time you looked up at the sky without measuring the moment? The last time you let the wind interrupt your thoughts and rearrange them into something kinder? The last time you let a sunset finish speaking before you rushed to reply with a photo?
When was the last time you called your friends and met without an agenda, no ānetworking,ā no ticking boxesājust stories? The kind of stories that detour into *history and cartoons and music*, that unexpected memory of *Calcium Sendozās bottle* on a cracked balcony table, and everyone laughing so hard you forgot to check the time. When was the last time you talked for hours and didnāt utter a wordāthe kind of silence that happens only with people who know your pauses and trust them?
Weāre all running so well these days. Efficient. Optimised. Calendar-coloured. We run in neat shoes and speak in bullet points. Weāre professional at being professional. But somewhere between quarterly targets and quantified steps, I worry weāve started outsourcing our tenderness.
I am not antiāambition. I love seeing people win, and I want to win too. Money pays for parentsā medicines and weekend getaways, for coffees and cookbooks and train tickets home. But if the cost of success is forgetting what weāre using it *for*, the math stops making sense.
So this is a small, public checkāin from me to meāfrom Isha to Ishaāand an invitation for you to ask yourself the same questions:
When was the last time you made time, not found it? We say āIāll make it up later,ā as if time were a wallet note we can fold and unfold. But time doesnāt keep change. It only keeps direction.
When did you last let love be inconvenient? A long bus ride to see a friend whoās had a rough week. A detour to buy your mom those bangles she pointed at absently. Stirring the pot on the stove for ten minutes longer because thatās how she likes it.
When did you last share something unpolished? The halfāformed poem. The embarrassing story. The way you really feel about the city. Remember how intimacy grows out of imperfect edges, not presentations.
I think of my motherās laughāhow it starts quietly and then surprises itself. I think of standing barefoot on warm terrace tiles, trading constellations for confessions. I think of friendships that survived not because we were always available, but because we kept returning. I think of how the best conversations hold room for both deep debate and silly detoursāhistory, cartoons, music, Cal, Sim, that old Sendoz bottleāand how that mix is what makes a life feel textured instead of templated.
If you need a practical nudge (I do), try this tiny recalibration plan not a productivity hack, just a way back to yourself:
1. Coffee with Mom (or Dad) this week - Put it on the calendar like a client meeting. Ask one question youāve never asked before. Listen for the answer beneath the answer.
2. Cook together once - Let the kitchen be slow. Measure spices with your palm. Learn the story behind one recipe.
3. One nature appointment - a sunrise on the terrace, a treeālined walk, five minutes of cloudācounting from your window. No phone. Just weather.
4. Call the group - Pick a day. Meet somewhere unfancy. Bring a memory to the table and see where the evening goes.
5. Practice shared silence - Sit with someone you trust and let the quiet do its work. Youāll be surprised how much it says.
6. *Tell one true story - The kind that takes a little courage. Watch how honesty attracts more of itself.
7. Name what youāre chasingāand why - write it on a sticky note. If āwhyā doesnāt make you softer, adjust the āwhat.ā
We donāt need to quit our jobs or cancel our dreams. We just need to remember that success should widen our hearts, not narrow our days. The promotion matters. So does the person youāre becoming on the way to it. The bank balance matters. So does the balance of who gets your best attention.
Today, suddenly, writing this for Me , I felt the urge to filter my own lifeānot to remove noise, but to *choose* the sounds I want to keep. My momās spoon tapping the pot. My friends interrupting each other. The soft chorus of a city evening out the window. My own breath, steadying.
And if youāre reading this, future Isha, remember that the mirror in the lift wasnāt accusing you. It was inviting you to come back. Success will feel better with your people in the picture. Money will feel lighter when it pays for laughter. Work will feel cleaner when time with yourself and the ones you love is not an afterthought but a first principle.
Soāwhen was the last time?
If itās been a while, let today be the day you begin again. I will, too.
You made it reading all of this without pictures kudos š
Drop a comment to let me know your thoughtsš¤
Loved each and every single word ....much needed article in today's lifestyle
Good job Ishu
God bless you
Reading this made me pause, truly feel what life is beyond the corporate world. Beautifully written ā¤ļøš„°
Kudos Isha, keep writing! ā„ļøāØ
Love your article.
Keep them coming ā¤ļø