Lyf....An Irresistable Crush

 Today is Shri Guru Arjan Dev Ji's Shahidi Parv...Tbh...whenever I read about Guru Sahib's martyrdom, one thing always leaves me speechless. How does one endure so much torture at the behest of Jahangir in Lahore...yet remain immersed in Waheguru's will? I can't even imagine it. Perhaps that's why such sacrifices aren't meant to be understood fully...only bowed before. Later, Sikh history witnessed another such supreme sacrifice when Shri Guru Tegh Bahadur Sahib Ji gave his life under Auranga's tyranny for the sake of religious freedom. Different times...different rulers...same attempt to crush the spirit. Yet every single time, the Gurus stood taller than th thron. One more thing...I personally don't hold any grudge against Islam or its believers. History itself tells us Akbar respected the Sikh Gurus, visited them and even sat in Langar. The Gurus also had Muslim friends, followers and admirers who loved and helped them. So for me, the issue was never ...

 Hd a exclusive out wid frnds to celebrate freedom after exams...we teamed up for paddle boating first, drifting across d calm waters wile tryin our best nt to splash each other too much...lolz! Thereafter we excitedly hopped onto our cycles n set off wid no real destination in mind...simply enjoyin d open trails...d fresh air n d feelin of havin nowhere urgent to b,was just splendrd a feel, we all hd been anxiously waiting to live!. A lil bit of trekking followed dat was enugh to leave us pleasantly tired bt still eager fr more... Evry part of d day seemed to carry its own share of laughter, mischief n extraaaa carefree moments.Thogh writin exams is completely different frm frolickin all day...no fatigue...no exhaustion...just spirits high.😊

 I m certainly gonna miss these post-exam, worry-free days spent here on Twitter.For a wile,lyf has felt a lil lighter...no books waiting,no deadlines chasing me,no constant thought of wat needs to b done next.Just opening d app wenever I felt lyk it,reading random posts,sharing random thoughts,talking to people,laughing @ silly things n letting d day pass widout carrying much on my mind.It’s strange hw quickly a phase becomes a memory wile you r still living it.Studies will start again soon n I know this easygoing routine won't stay forever.Till then,I just wanna be here,enjoy these days fr wat they r n live evry lil moment of them before lyf gets busy again... Q

 I share my joys here on Twitter almost every day... so I guess it's only fair to share my worries as well. Today's blog is about a serious issue. A couple of forced interactions recently left me genuinely shocked. It's strange how some people can create a sense of familiarity out of absolutely nothing n then expect you to play along. It reminded me that while most people are decent, a few can make online spaces uncomfortable by assuming a closeness that simply doesn't exist. Looking back, I can almost hear my Mum's warnings playing on repeat in my head. Maybe I was too relaxed, maybe I gave people the benefit of the doubt a little too easily. Either way, from now onwards, my sixth sense is going on overtime duty. Twitter will still be my happy place to laugh, learn, write n breathe free... but I'll be a lot more cautious about who gets access to my space. Some lessons arrive gently, others arrive disguised as notifications.

 Never thought a law student like me would one day be reading about forests, climate change, ozone depletion and sustainable development in such detail. Then Environmental Law happened. From Stockholm and Rio to Montreal, Kyoto and Paris, I spent a semester exploring how the world has been trying to balance human progress with nature's survival. And somewhere between conventions, principles and case laws, I realised the environment isn't merely a chapter in a textbook... it's the very foundation on which every other human right, dream and development rests...

 There was a time when I absolutely hated milk. A tiny glass of it felt like a mountain to climb, until Dadi, my evening storyteller and babysitter, discovered her own little trick. While Mum was busy building her legal career, my nights belonged to Dadi, her endless stories, and a porcelain mug painted with Disney characters. She would begin a tale before I could protest. One sip belonged to Cinderella, another to a fairy godmother n before the story reached its happy ending, the glass would be empty. Somewhere between those bedtime tales and those reluctant gulps, I fell in love with both fairy stories and milk. Soon, Dadi upgraded the ritual with saffron strands and a spoonful of honey, calling it a nectar fit for the "tiny tot" of the family. Years have passed, places have changed, and countless beverages have come and gone, yet milk remains my staple drink wherever I may be in the world. And every time I stir saffron and honey into a warm glass at night, I can still hear...