If God resides in the hearts of men
As I believe He does,
The Cockroach's Evolution: Acquiring a Life Beyond the Insult
The CJP’s journey, however, is no longer confined to the politics of examination failures and youth precarity. Its School Thik Karo campaign has extended the movement’s work towards accountability for basic public-school infrastructure, while its latest mobilisation has turned to electoral accountability.
‘Himalayasia’: Can a Mountain Range Give South Asia the Identity It Never Had?
Whether or not “Himalayasia” ever catches on as a name, the underlying question it poses is a serious one for a region that houses a quarter of the world’s population, spends tens of billions of dollars a year arming itself against its own neighbors, and still trades more easily with the far side of the globe than across its own borders
South Asia Needs Cross-Border Internships, Not Only Degrees Abroad
South Asia often discusses youth mobility after a student has already decided to leave the region. A stronger regional system would give students another option before that point: international experience that is close enough to be practical, but different enough to change what they learn.
School Absenteeism and Growing Coaching Culture: Are we Compromising the Future of an Entire Generation?
If dummy admissions, prolonged school absenteeism, and an unregulated coaching culture continue unchecked, we may end up producing students who have spent enormous amounts of time and money on education without actually receiving the education they need.
More on Education and Gen Z Voices
If God Resides In The Hearts of Men
Golf
If there are no flowers where you are,
and the stars seem too far,
The Phantom called immortality
Vast stretches of arid land,
rivers that never know the sands to traverse.
At one's mother’s feet
Lies the stairway to heaven,
And eternal peace.
My River
There’s a river i know
Whose name i, often, forget,
There’s Divinity in Silence
Spend time with Silence
For, wisdom lies there,
The Arrogance of Misfortune
Gloat not, O misfortune
Your triumphs are not eternal,
I Often Wonder
If Birds were Man’s Mentor
Would we a better breed be
The Cradle of Friendship
The cradle of friendship
Is too delicate for words
Faith
For all my proclamations of belief,
Which in intent and conviction are true,
In Search of the Soul
Endless, fruitless, journeys
That we oft embark upon,
In The Precincts Of The Mind
In the precincts of the mind,
In the fortress I call mine,
O Demise, Are You Fair?
O Demise, thou art a friend true
When I feel lost and dark blue
Destiny
The capriciousness of destiny
at play I see in every day
The Paradox of Time- Life’s Pantomime
Is my Time really mine
Or, is there a paradox there,
