The Missing Voice: Sharda Sinha, Rajshri, and Chhath Puja

For decades, the voice of Sharda Sinha was deeply woven into the soul of Rajshri Productions. Whether it was the playful innocence of Kahe Tose Sajna in Maine Pyar Kiya or the emotional depth of Babul in Hum Aapke Hain Koun..!, her singing gave life to the family traditions and cultural warmth that Rajshri movies are famous for. Alongside her Bollywood work, she was, of course, the undisputed voice of Chhath Puja—a singer whose melodies have echoed across ghats and homes every festive season for generations.

Watching Rajshri’s latest movie finally feature a Chhath song, Bulaye Chhathi Maa, which launched today, brings a sudden wave of nostalgia and sadness. It feels like a rare, beautiful intersection of two worlds she defined—Rajshri cinema and Chhath Puja—yet she is no longer in this world to witness it or lend her magic to it. Hearing this song today is a quiet reminder of how much we miss her, and how a single voice could make both a family film and a sacred festival feel complete.

The Hidden Thread: What Traveling Taught Me About Being Indian

 Growing up, we are always taught how different every Indian state is. Textbooks, TV, and people around us constantly talk about our diversity—how languages change every few kilometers, how food habits are totally different, and how clothes and traditions vary from state to state. For a long time, I actually believed that people from different states had almost nothing in common except living in the same country.

That perspective really started to change when I moved to Hyderabad and began living in the South, along with traveling to different places. Moving to a new state makes you observe things much closely than a short trip does. Chatting with colleagues, neighbors, and people from all over India, you suddenly feel this strong, unsaid connection. Beneath all our different languages and daily habits, there is something silent yet powerful that binds us all together as Indians.

I felt this most during festival times while living here. Earlier, I used to think Durga Puja was strictly a Bengali festival, and Navratri was mostly a North Indian thing. But living in the South during this time opened my eyes—seeing streets decorated with lights, homes setting up traditional displays, and people worshipping the Goddess with the exact same heart and energy. It is the same story with harvest festivals—whether it is Sankranti, Pongal, or Bihu—or small traditions like eating Pachadi during the New Year, having Satuan, or paying respects to our ancestors on Mahalaya Amavasya. We might use different regional names, but living across these cultures makes you realize that at the end of the day, we are all celebrating the exact same feeling.

We Can Scan to Pay, So Why Not Scan to Trust?

 AI has changed how we work. Emails are drafted in seconds, reports are summarised, code is written faster, and customer queries get answered at any hour. Tasks that took days now take hours, and small teams can do the work of much larger ones. Efficiency and throughput have gone up, and work feels easier than ever. Yet when it comes to protecting people from basic, everyday risks, we still seem to be lagging.

Take the recent rabies vaccine scare in India. A batch of Abhayrab was declared substandard and potentially spurious after failing a potency test. The seized vials were not manufactured by Indian Immunologicals Ltd, according to the company and regulatory findings. The batch also showed inconsistencies in labelling, artwork, cap colour and licence details, and it failed a QR verification. This was not the first such case: the company had earlier reported counterfeit doses with same batch number. Rabies is almost always fatal once symptoms appear, so a fake vaccine can cost a life. Why should a patient have to trust blindly? We scan QR codes to pay for tea, so why not a simple, AI-powered app where anyone can scan a vaccine or medicine pack? The app could instantly confirm whether the batch is genuine and show the manufacturer, manufacturing date, expiry date and distribution details. It could flag duplicate codes, suspicious scan patterns and mismatched labels automatically. 

The same problem exists with food and medicines that need strict temperature control. Paneer, milk products, ice cream, vaccines and insulin can spoil or lose potency if they warm up even briefly during transport or a power failure. By the time the product reaches the retail shelf, it is cold again, and the customer has no idea the damage was done earlier. Why can't every packet carry a simple indicator that changes colour permanently once the safe temperature is breached? A tiny colour-changing label would let an ordinary buyer see at a glance whether the product is safe. Smart sensors and AI-based tracking could also monitor the whole cold chain and alert businesses before the product ever reaches a shop.

AI has made our work faster, and now it should make our lives safer, one scan and one colour-changing label at a time.

The world on the move

We often think of "outsourcing" as a corporate term, but it is really just a simple, natural human flow. Whether it is physical labor, technical expertise, or athletic talent, people move to where they are needed most. Whenever there is a gap in a society, someone from elsewhere will eventually come to fill it.

Take the internal migration in India, where workers from Bihar and Uttar Pradesh power fields in Punjab and construction sites in the South. Or look at the IT sector, where talent flowed from India to the West to keep the global tech engine running. 

Recently I noticed it in sports, like in FIFA 2026, where nations recruit players from all over to fill their rosters. It is ironic how countries with a history of racism easily push those views aside when they need elite athletes.

 It is a universal law of economics: labor and talent flow to where they are most useful.

But this process brings a difficult challenge. Once these newcomers become a part of the society they helped build, resentment often starts to grow. It is ironic that the very people who come to fill an economic gap eventually face pushback from the locals. You can see this tension rising in protests and political debates around the world. 

There is no easy solution..Newcomers share the responsibility to assimilate by respecting and adopting local customs. Friction is minimized when they blend into the community rather than creating boundaries or imposing their own traditions. True growth happens when migrants embrace the society they have joined rather than trying to change it.

My Favorite Connections in the Corporate World

 This morning, as I was walking into my office building, I saw something that really made me stop and think. Two security guards were changing shifts-one was logging off from the night shift, and the other was logging in for the day. I know them since they are in my building only. Both of them are from Bihar, which is my home state too.  It just hit me how difficult it really is to stay hundreds of kilometers away from the place you grew up, leaving behind your childhood friends and everything familiar to live in a completely unknown city.

At the end of the day, we are all just working hard for our livelihood and trying to take care of our families. It takes a lot to leave your roots behind. Seeing those guards work through the night reminded me of the quiet sacrifices so many of us make every single day. You push through the homesickness because you have people depending on you. It is a tough routine, but you do what you have to do.

Since I have been working in this company for a long time, relatives sometimes ask me, "You must have great connects here, right? People must know you since you're an old-timer." I usually just smile. If I have any real acquaintance here, it is with these guards. Whenever I pass by, we always stop for a quick, brief chit-chat. We talk about our state, Chathh puja, share some random thoughts, and just connect for a minute. It is just a nice reminder that we aren't alone out here, and life goes on.