The historic Constitutional Order that rendered Article 370 and 35A null and void was passed on 5th of August. For seven decades, this 'special status', formed the socio-political identity of the people of Kashmir. But it was never a 'special status', it was only a temporary act meant to lend time to Kashmiris and India to decide the fate of the region and all its people. In theory, removing these acts will allow complete integration of the territories of Jammu and Kashmir into the Indian Union, something which was long overdue. However, those out on the streets beating drums and firing crackers may be celebrating too soon because the real challenges begin now. NOW, WHAT? When examined thoroughly in the present context, removing the law and creating two UT's from the region are only symbolic measures and do not assure any peace or development. Also, the people of Jammu and Kashmir who are at the center of this issue were blatantly ignored. The move needs to ...
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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