Mc Kode, a rap artist from Delhi has been missing after posting a cryptic message on his Instagram story, about standing on an isolated bridge overlooking the Yamuna. Since then, people have been trying to search for him around all possible locations matching his description of the bridge. Several other rap artists such as Raftaar and Seedhe Maut and others on social media have posted about it. The reason behind Kode attempting to take such a drastic step is because an old video of his rap battles surfaced online. In it, he used slang to take jibes at the Hindu epic, Mahabharata, and “abused Hinduism.” He soon became a target of local goons who threatened him, his family, and his friends. Moksh, a musician, took to Instagram to post a series of events that led to the disappearance of Kode. Brands terminated contracts with him and all of Kode's work was taken down from the Internet overnight. Kode released an apology online, but it didn't satisfy the angry mobs that wan...
People are born not made, but some are not as privileged as the rest or lack something the others may possess. It is when such people rise above the rest on their own that they are called self-made. Self made, meaning to make or perfect oneself according to one's own will. True? False. Being self made requires so much more. It requires the knowledge to know your own self, to jump into the deep oblivion of your heart and brain and solve the mysteries inside of you. To conquer oneself, before conquering the world. It is to be philanthropic without letting it seem so. To be kind to your juniors and all around you without letting it get to your head. It is to watch your whole world crumble down in front of your eyes, but without as much as making a sound, building it up again without losing hope. It is to trust oneself when all else doubt you. If you can make it to the top after meeting with disasters and still call the ride to be the part because of what it taught you. ...
I pulled the last box out of the rusty mover’s truck and turned around to make my way upstairs. The stairs that led me to my new apartment were, to sugar-coat it, “dingy.” It was a Victorian-style building that was clearly a hundred years old. It was well lived in, by many old officials of the British army. Later, due to a shortage of space in the city, these apartments were rented out as smaller spaces for much cheaper prices. Anyway, I had no right to complain. I mean I was getting all this for peanuts. Sure it’s not luxurious but it fits my budget and has all the necessities. I reached upstairs to find the movers’ driver standing outside with the door ajar. He helped me stack the last box on top of the rest and stood with his hands on his hips. Are we supposed to tip? I mean, what the hell’s service tax for? He huffed and so I placed a couple of dollars on his palm that he had very demandingly brought out. He huffed again, disappointed, turned around and left, banging the door b...
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