A piece of news, no it's a call, spouse shared, shook me recently. Her cousin's husband had passed away. Family, but long gap after last conversation.. Again few other cases also triggered.. Not even someone I spoke with often. But their death triggered a storm inside me. I began to ask myself questions I had buried for years: What is the point of this life? Where am I really standing? What mark have I left behind? If tomorrow I am gone, some who love me may cry. But those who hate me—or those I hurt knowingly or unknowingly—may laugh, even if silently. And many will simply move on, unchanged. What about my children? Will they remember me with tears, or will life sweep them forward too fast? The truth is, I am not a government servant with a title. I hold no political or social power. I never stood in front of society as a leader or influencer. I carry mistakes, sins, regrets. And yet, maybe, somewhere in my journey, I did some good I do not remember— a kind word, a small help,...
It's profoundly disheartening to witness the tragic reality that many individuals, particularly those born before 1985, choose to celebrate heinous acts despite being fully aware of the harrowing truths surrounding them. The demolition of a mosque by Hindutva mobs, followed by riots claiming the lives of over 3000 innocent human beings, stands as a grim testament to the depths of human depravity. What's even more distressing is the calculated politicization of these events, designed to silence the voices of the common people. Through strategic polarization, a path was paved for the unfathomable horror of genocide. It's a sobering reminder of the darkness that can consume societies when hatred and division are allowed to flourish unchecked. The making of India is the collective effort of all its people, built on the principles of unity, diversity, and justice. However, the rise of Islamophobia, the targeting of minorities, and the alarming use of demolitions and the so-call...