One day, about a decade ago, I was casually browsing through a Financial Times supplement when I came across a column by Harry Eyres-“The Slow Lane”. It was a periodical. Harry was reflecting on Roman roads in that particular episode, or rather he was reflecting on what Roman roads were not and what they might have replaced; the wood paths, which were never really built but grew out of the footsteps of the local people and occasional wanderers through ages. Harry contemplated on those roads which often led to nowhere unlike their successors which always connected definite places and were, at least for long stretches, extraordinarily straight. I still remember how Harry wondered if wood-paths might have some virtues which were not apparent at the first sight; how nowhere could be somewhere, how nature hardly works on a straight line and how learning could lose something valuable when people took a straight A to B approach. Since that day, whenever I think of life as a journey I envisage wood paths rather than modern highways or the iconic roman roads. Those narrow paths bearing the footprints of unnamed travellers; the foliage around them; and how they might come to an abrupt end at particularly nowhere and one has to search for a new path or sometimes find a humble settlement. How the intertwining of such paths might lead us to share our journey with someone else, at least for a while. I often find the wood paths worth the hardship that accompanies our travel along with one of them. This site is a sort of a humble forest settlement, somewhere along the wood paths I travelled working on Physics and thinking on many other things which often led me to nowhere. I enjoyed the journey nevertheless