Life at 24 Degrees

If you are a girl or a mid 40s man, you could relate with this. When office is freezing and you call the AC Maintenance guys to maintain the temperature, what instructions do you give to them? Set the AC Temp at 24 degrees. 

Would you disagree if I say there is something ‘truly’ magical about 24 degrees. 

It’s not about that perfect temperature where the office feels cozy and your 14x16 room feels warm and not fuzzy! 

It is when the whole world feels in perfect harmony; not too warm to tire you, not too cool to make you retreat. If you hear it closely, it will feel like a rhythm, like someone poured honey in your ear! 

It is when air feels like a quiet hug, the sunlight finds its gentlest form, and even your morning coffee tastes better somehow. 

Everyone loves a lil balance in the most effortless state, and maybe, that’s exactly what life is asking us to find.

Usually, we live our days between extremes.. chasing highs, avoiding lows, constantly adjusting our emotional thermostats. 

One moment we’re blazing with ambition, the next, cooling down from exhaustion. 

But if you look closely, there is something in between - a sweet spot… your inner 24 degrees. 

I’ve felt it on quiet evenings when the day hasn’t gone perfectly, yet there’s peace in knowing it’s enough. 

I’ve felt it in my heartfelt conversations with my best friends that don’t demand anything…. I’ve experienced it in my evening teas with my partner, in late evenings whisky with my special friend, with having a quiet dinner with your parents where nobody rushes to check their phones, everything is just perfect in its own sense.

In those moments, what you will feel is that your words flow, laughter lingers, and silence feels safe.

I’ve felt it on mornings when I am driving to work, and I play my “song of the day” on Apple CarPlay, when my work aligns smoothly, and you can be at ease while having your morning coffee with your work bestie. There is a rhythm to the day that doesn’t feel forced.. like they say, easy breezy! 

You don’t need “Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi” dramas in your life, no sudden fireworks, no fire-fighting, just a sense that everything inside and outside has settled into its rightful place.

After all, we all like fireworks 🎆 only on Diwali, or on 4th July, or on those Opera nights. 

Maybe life at 24 degrees is when the temperature of your heart matches the weather outside.  When calm doesn’t need a reason, and happiness doesn’t seem like a loud noise.

When you pause yet working, both at the same time, simultaneously. 

Not every day will stay that way, of course. The world will keep shifting its weather… storms will come, winds will change, volcano will erupt, rain will be too much that the city roads could not handle, or snow will wrap a thick layer over the streets, and sometimes, heat will rise beyond comfort. 

But maybe the art lies in carrying that 24-degree feeling within… learning to find that warmth in chaos and coolness in intensity. Because life at 24 degrees isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence. 

It’s about knowing that peace isn’t always found in stillness or at Himalayas… sometimes, it’s in the quiet balance between everything that moves.  

So on the days when things feel too much or too little, remind yourself: the goal isn’t constant sunshine. 

It’s the perfect morning when sunlight feels like a soft hug, when the breeze doesn’t ask you to reach for a sweater, and coffee tastes like contentment itself. It’s to find and keep returning to your own 24 degrees.

Shamboo!

 Back in 2000, one of my Dad’s morning rituals was to play bhajans the moment he woke up. There wasn’t a single day when I didn’t wake up to the melodious voices of Vikram Hazra, Rishi Nityapragya (our beloved Nitin Bhaiya), and Chitra Roy.

Bhajans were never restricted to being an early-morning alarm for the house. My dad played them in his car too… something I have both loved and hated all my life.

Before 2000, it used to be old Bollywood songs. Then the Art of Living shift happened.

After he came into Art of Living, the mediums evolved.., from World FM Radio to cassettes (yes, we used those in our old Maruti), to CDs, and now to Spotify.

But one thing remained constant: his love for bhajans. And somewhere along the way, as I near 40, I have picked up that habit too.

I remember almost 14–15 years ago, I sat in his car while Nitin Bhaiya’s Trinetraya album was playing. The car was echoing “Jai Jai Shiv Shamboo” at its loudest. The moment I sat down, I told Papa, “You know what, I don’t like Shiv ji that much… let’s play Krishna bhajans.” And my mom, dad, and I burst into laughter.

That became our little inside joke. Whenever we needed to change a bhajan, or when we were sitting in a satsang and a Shiv bhajan began, the three of us would exchange glances, smile at each other, and gently lean into the bhakti.

All my life, I have been surrounded by friends whose inclination was… and still is… towards Shiva. Be it T in college, P in iYogi, RPN in Videocon, AM, and now AR - in different phases of life, I have walked alongside people whose lives were deeply touched by Shiva Shakti. Yet, for the longest time, I never fully understood the depth of that devotion, that surrender, that pull.

Now, as I near 40, after the Hanuman Chalisa, which is almost a ritual to play the moment I sit in my car, I find myself listening to Shiv Stuti more often. The ritual of playing bhajans in the car continues. 

Over the years, I have read extensively about Him, listened to Sri Sri’s Shiv Sutras, and absorbed many of his discourses on Shiva.

And somewhere along this journey, there is a tranquility I cannot explain. A peace. A surrender. A quiet knowing - that I am Him, and He is me.

I feel His rage, yet I feel His stillness within me. He is nowhere, and yet He is everywhere. Despite what Annie says that Shiva has his own greys … I feel He is far beyond the small definitions we try to confine Him to.

He is the ultimate truth - the One with no beginning and no end. The One who simply is. Omnipresent. Formless. Boundless. Both aware and beyond awareness.

He is not just a deity to be prayed to… He is a state to be experienced. A dissolution of ego. A vastness that swallows every doubt.

He is Shamboo!

Calm and Chaos

And I stepped into the chaos of city, the hustle bustle of running a house, a partner whose antics is beyond my comprehension… I am feeling alone, not lonely, but alone, as I miss the noise of people I love.

Landing in this quiet, where I can hear the clock ticking, the steps of help roaming in the house, an unfinished series which I can now watch on TV rather than on my phone.. I feel a little empty inside.

I have returned with a full heart and pretty sure, I am unsure where to place it. 

The one who can hold it, keep it safe, is far away in a foreign land, the one who are here who can put a bandaid to it, are moving away… 

That feeling may not make a lot of sense.. to coming back from warmth, people, noise… to a pause can feel unexpectedly hollow. 

They want me to come along and take a vacay with the girl friends.. I dont know what I am scared of, I don’t know what holds me back.. Between these departures and still open plans that didn’t happen, I sit with a quiet I didn’t ask for.

Everyone is somewhere, and I’m here, holding the aftertaste of togetherness.

Countdown to 40 starts in 9 days!

Well, I survived a party yesterday.

Even though it was my partner’s school reunion, I still don’t know why I was f… happy? I devoured 6 G&Ts or was it 5? Sixty mls each in the system… you do the maths! Also, a few drags of puffs made the evening torturous by the end. Someone who used to happily chuckle… vomit-free since ’93 (How I Met Your Mother dialogue), but actually vomit-free since a dreadful car ride in 2016… well, that story later.

While I have been a two-drinks person this whole year, or max three, I think I got carried away in the rush of meeting and talking to people after years. There was no one at the party who didn’t know ‘TinTin’ aka my husband, Shashank. And I realised one thing—people introduce themselves with their name and say, “Nice to meet you” or “Pleasure to meet you.” Just by a handshake, a slight smile on your lips, and direct eye contact - do you remember this person at your next meeting? Maybe a faint recognition of the face, but the name for sure? Not!

How about introducing someone like—meet Richa, and she likes to have 5 G&Ts when she’s happy. If the other person won’t remember my name, I guess they’ll remember the experience. LOL!

Having said that, I have never been a resolution person. I don’t remember when was the last time I kept one, maintained it, or followed it to the T. Nothing of that sort is going to happen in 2026 either. I am just turning 40, not becoming a helluva new person.

Now, the countdown begins and here’s what I plan to do: short trips (UNPLANNED) with girls, because we all fuck up planned trips; give a good six months to my health goals and try achieving a scale by 17th September so that I’m not only celebrating my 40th but also proud of my physical goal achievements. I will DEFINITELY limit my drinking. And like last year, when I bid Rajnigandha goodbye, this year—2025—smoking (all kinds) is also on its way out. No peer pressure, no retort to the company I keep (in fact, I’ll encourage the company I keep to quit too).

Now that I’ve eaten practically everything I’ve been meaning to eat for a long time this month, I’ll also be mindful of whatever I put in my gut. No more cheating, no more cutting corners, no more procrastinating. I will also resume my ukulele learning classes so that I can strum on my birthday. :-P People attending my birthday will be in for a melodic good time. LOL!

Did you notice that all these are my personal goals? Nothing professional or academic has been marked here. Today, I had a meeting with the DEI team, and the first half of the year looks promising with good stuff in our kitty. How long that will sustain, God only knows or the loser CHRO (in one sentence, I managed the good and the evil both). Ha ha ha! But professional goals are running side by side, with a lil LinkedIn here and there. I’m just hanging in there and don’t want to overpromise (very unlike me, and I’m sure P would agree to this).

This 40th year of Richa Goel will be something she should be proud of …exactly a year later, today, on December 22, 2026.

Until then, I’ll keep writing and keep sharing the tick marks! 😉