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When the Click Happened: From Rush to Rhythm

When I moved to Bangalore from Mumbai, I realized something, maybe I had left Mumbai, but Mumbai hadn’t quite left me.


If you’ve lived in Mumbai, you know the pace. People walk fast, cut from behind, slip ahead it’s a city always moving. Even in grocery shops, the system is quick: one person fetches, another calculates, bags are ready before you even blink.


Bangalore was different. I would stand at a grain shop while the shopkeeper calmly fetched items, weighed them, packed them, and only then told me the total. It felt like ages. My restlessness kicked in—I’d already calculated the amount, bagged the items in my head, and kept the money ready. The shopkeeper only had to confirm.


One day, he looked at me with a smile and asked, “Why are you in such a rush?”

I froze. I had no deadlines that day. No meetings to run to. Nowhere to be. Yet the rush lived in me.

And that’s when it clicked, this wasn’t about efficiency. It was about the restless energy I was carrying, spreading into spaces that didn’t ask for it.


Since then, I’ve been learning.

Yes, I still drag my husband ahead when we walk wanting a clear path is still my quirk. But I also let the shopkeeper take his time. I breathe, wait, and notice the rhythm of the city I’m in.

Because slowing down isn’t just about patience. It’s about honoring the pace of people and places around us. And sometimes, that’s what grounds us the most.


Where in your life are you carrying a rush you don’t need anymore?

ree


 
 
 

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