Pages From Her Diary

  Five Lines That Stayed A 2 a.m. reading of Kevin Kelly's "68 Bits of Unsolicited Advice" — and the five sentences that refused to let me sleep. It is 2 a.m. The fan is on. The city outside has gone quiet. And I am doing what every adult swears every night they will stop doing — scrolling through old bookmarks on my phone, hoping something I once saved will turn out to still be worth saving. Most of it is junk. And then I tap on a link from months ago: "68 Bits of Unsolicited Advice" by Kevin Kelly — sixty-eight short sentences from a man on his sixty-eighth birthday, written by someone who has clearly travelled vividly and paid attention. Out of all sixty-eight, only five stayed with me by sunrise. These are the five. 1. "When you die, you take absolutely nothing with you except your reputation." I read this and thought of every Indian funeral I have ever been to. The same plastic chairs, the same quiet uncle with the register, the same con...