What podcasts are you listening to?
When the Mind Becomes a Radio and the Heart Becomes the Host.
People ask which podcast I listen to. These days, I’m tuned into the one inside: my
inner podcast. It doesn’t need headphones, subscription, or an app update. It plays on a
mysterious system called “the human brain,” and releases new episodes mostly around 2 a.m. My mind does not respect
time zones, alarm clocks, or common sense. It’s a global broadcaster.
Some nights this podcast plays comedy. Some nights, tragedy. Some nights, a historical flashback titled,
“Remember that embarrassing moment from 2009?” There are no ads, no disclaimers, and definitely no skip
button. It’s like a Netflix series where the remote is permanently lost between couch cushions.
Pigeons Over My Fields
At dawn, a flock of pigeons flies over my fields in Kumaon. They move in perfect formation—no traffic lights, no
rules, yet nobody crashes. They turn, rise, dip, float like a single organism. If humans had that level of teamwork,
global meetings would end in fifteen minutes instead of three hours and twelve PowerPoint slides.
The pigeons taught me something about thoughts. Our minds should move like that flock—coordinated, calm,
intelligent. But most of us wake up with thoughts that scatter like loose change on a tiled floor. The pigeons are
a metaphor for mental wellbeing: moving together, not fighting each other.
Maps Never Show Fear
Technology can locate the nearest café, but no map shows where fear lives. No navigation app warns you:
“Turn right for Anxiety Avenue,”
“Detour: Overthinking Highway,”
“Caution: Memory Speed Breaker Ahead.”
That’s where the inner podcast becomes useful. It points out things we avoid. It asks questions we don’t want to
answer. It speaks even when we wish it would stay muted. In grammar class, we were taught about subject,
predicate, clauses. No one said anything about the long sentences the heart writes at night.
Getting Lost, Honestly
I once lost my way on a forest trail. Surprisingly, I didn’t panic. Perhaps this generation panics more when Wi-Fi
drops than when life does. The forest was silent, almost too silent. That silence had punctuation. It told me:
“You’ve travelled everywhere except toward yourself.” A strange but gentle truth.
Losing the outer path helped me trace the inner one. Maybe that’s how mindful travel for anxious minds works—you get
lost, so your soul finally looks for a map. Adventure is not always climbing mountains. Sometimes it’s staying still
long enough to hear your own thought.
The Backpack Nobody Sees
Everyone carries invisible luggage: regret, guilt, words unsaid, choices we postpone. Photos show smiles, but real
journeys happen behind the face. When water is clear, you see the depth. When water is muddy, you only see
disturbance. Human hearts work exactly like that.
We show edited versions of ourselves to the world. The inner podcast plays the unedited version—raw voice, cracked
emotion, quiet bravery. It reminds us that wellbeing is not perfection. It is honesty.
Long-Distance Friendship
I believe in the old-fashioned magic of long-distance friendship and pen-friends. A letter or text from a different
country can calm a storm faster than people sitting next to us. Distance forces clarity. There is no performance,
no pretend. Only meaning.
Some people write like clear water—deep, patient, transparent. One honest sentence can feel like a hand on your
shoulder. A good friend is like a moderator stringing pearls: keeping conversations gentle, keeping people connected
without noise.
Insomnia: The Brain’s Mid-Night Circus
My inner podcast is most active during insomnia. Science says a hyperactive brain refuses to power down because it
keeps solving problems that don’t need solving at midnight. Here’s what helps me—global-friendly routines you can
try anywhere:
- Warm shower 60–90 minutes before bed (signals the body to land).
- Slow breathing or box breathing (free, portable, zero side effects).
- Write thoughts on paper: the brain loves outsourcing tasks.
- Dim light, calm words, gentle music—never doomscrolling glowing screens.
These are not magic tricks. They are micro-habits. Healing prefers small consistency over dramatic motivation
speeches. Every culture understands this: soft steps build strong roads.
Adventure × Wellbeing
Travel teaches pace. Wellbeing teaches pause. Pigeons do both: they fly fast, but they land when necessary. Maybe
the secret of a calm life is a rhythm—movement and rest, effort and ease.
We chase picture-perfect moments and forget that the bravest moments are usually invisible: asking for help, resting
without guilt, starting again. These acts never trend, yet they keep the world running quietly.
If Your Inner Podcast Talks Too…
If your mind plays its own midnight radio show, you are not strange. You are alive, thoughtful, human. If you want,
write your episode below—one sentence, one sigh, one emoji. Your voice might become a signpost for a stranger
somewhere on this planet, in a different time zone, fighting the same noise.
Written from the Kumaon hills, where the air is honest, the mountains are blunt, and the pigeons mind their own
business.
— Rohitash
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