iamindelhi

 Later, walking toward the hotel, conversation turned into debate. Over food, Mubashir and I argued on RSS and polarisation. He insisted the problem lay in lack of education, pointing to a softer, rebranded RSS. I countered with lived experience and the documented past—riots, orchestrated polarization, the poisoning of institutions, the weaponization of Brahmanism disguised as Hinduism, even mocking science while tightening cultural control. Bhagwat’s sugar-coated words or leaders’ whitewashing couldn’t erase the reality: RSS was born from authoritarian impulses, guilty of Gandhi’s assassination, and remains an engine of division. Eventually, we found common ground: whether or not one sees RSS as the villain, the government itself has failed in providing even the bare minimum, choosing spectacle over reform. From there, we walked on to Jama Masjid, entering its streets of sweets and aromas, but also harsh realities—families sleeping on sidewalks, men curled up on rented rickshaws, ...

  The day began with a journey from Jamia to Delhi Gate, where I walked toward the I.U.M.L. office with Mubashir guiding the way. He spoke with passion about history, heritage, and food, not only introducing me to the people around us but also introducing me as though weaving me into that heritage. As we were leaving, Mubashir suddenly said: “Let’s go back—you should talk to those students visiting North India.” I resisted: “No way!” But somehow, the sense of presence demanded attendance. Inside, I listened. The first speaker spoke of history and heritage as experience. The second dwelt on today’s polarisation and its reasons. The third ended with statistics, academic insights, and leadership. But to me, it all felt like fragments, none piercing deep enough to stir “I must do something.” My mind kept weaving a story to connect their dots. Then suddenly—my turn. At first, I declined sitting in the front. Later, I was called again. Nervous, yes, but I opened with a dua: asking to be ...

 Walk, talk, tea.. Another exploration night in search of purpose of humans!! Dilli shehar.. No it's a mix of gullies, cities, politics, poor, rich, classes, casteism and many more over heritage and rich histories.

Let’s build the philosophical and social outlook around it In nature, even the fiercest lion bows to the law of survival. An eagle seizes a cub, yet the lion doesn’t despair — it runs, it leaps, it fights, because saving one’s dear ones is not just instinct, it’s the right to live. But when we shift from jungle to human society, the story changes. We forget that every person, every being, deserves the same dignity — the right to survive, the right to protect, the right to simply exist without fear. Instead, we wrap these struggles in fancy words: “development,” “strategy,” or “geopolitics.” Nature shows us clarity. Humans blur it with excuses. The lion teaches us persistence, the eagle teaches us opportunity, but we must also learn the most important lesson: to recognize the rights and dignity of our fellow beings. Without it, we remain more divided than the jungle itself. Philosophical angle: opportunity! Correct angle : It's the right to save the dear ones, the right to live.....

 I crossed my state ; They asked my caste   I crossed my district ; They asked my religion   I crossed my state ; They asked my language   But when I crossed India I became an Indian.   Inside India, we often keep dividing ourselves. When you travel to another district, people see your religion first. When you go to another state, people test you by your language or caste. Politics takes advantage of this – leaders and parties feed on these small differences because that’s how they gather votes. They keep us busy fighting over caste, region, religion, language – while the bigger problems like jobs, health, education, and fairness remain ignored. The sad truth is: abroad, we proudly unite as Indians (?..that too the divisive rulers destroys!).  At home, politics keeps us divided for power. If the world can recognize us simply as Indians , why can’t we do the same at home? Unity and education are our real strength. Without them, we keep wal...

 I began in the simplicity of school days, a child until ten, where play and learning shaped my first memories. College came next, the predegree years, a taste of freedom before the harder climb of B.Tech in chemical engineering, where my mind was tested and my future began to take form. Work opened its doors and with it, marriage and a life in Kozhikode, then Trivandrum. Soon I stepped into Bahrain, a land that felt different, richer, and left a mark I still carry. In those years, I built more than income — I bought a small plot and built a home, and felt the ground beneath me grow steady. But life already turned again, bringing me back to India, this time to Delhi, into another home and into a season of struggles. The weight of responsibility grew, and sometimes I walked in silence, carrying more than I could say. Still, I travel on — through work, prayer, and small friendships — learning that even in suffering, the road keeps moving, and so do I. In the midst of new people where...