Maybe on Mother’s Day we can try taking one step towards respecting women. Yes.

I know. I know. Some of you might frown and say “not another article on this, no not again!” however I shall say that now is the perfect time to write about this.
Tell me. The Delhi Braveheart died. From being a successful future doctor, in ten days her world ended. Its over for her. The game has ended. And what about her rapists? Oh they shall rot in some jail of the country for a decade or more enjoying all three meals a day, the correct number of hours outdoors for their health (for its crucial to maintain good standards in a good prison) while their court case goes on and on..and on. For god knows how many years.

Each one of us lives a different life.


Yes, there’s a specific word for that very realization - that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk. It’s called sonder.

The Alternate Universe

From indo-pak war 1965.
We cannot afford countless number of deaths in the jails of the two countries justifying “they” killed “our” men, so “we” kill “theirs”. Until, the nationalism of “my” country (which lies deep down in a 60 feet bore well, where Prince, the kid you might remember, had fallen some years ago, wait, do you?) surpasses humanism, let alone the talks about “their” nationalism.