Erbil didn’t introduce itself through monuments that afternoon, but through a plate of roasted chicken, Kurdish rice dotted with raisins, and the quiet confidence of a friend who said, “Let’s eat at Habib.” In Iskan’s lunchtime bustle, we carried our plates through a maze of tables, found a corner, and discovered a truth: sometimes a city reveals itself most honestly at the dining table.
In 1991, my wedding journey unfolded amidst riots, curfews, and total uncertainty. A Varanasi celebration was disrupted, an Aligarh reception relied on colleagues' kindness, and our honeymoon began in a humble railway retiring room. Looking back, what could have been a tale of disruption remains a timeless story of resilience, compassion, and the deep warmth of human connection.
With photos, names, and personal details travelling globally within seconds, modern privacy has grown remarkably fragile. Doxxing, the malicious weaponisation of private information, directly threatens individuals across the globe. By exposing vulnerable data to public harm, this hostile practice raises critical and urgent questions regarding personal safety, human dignity, and democratic participation, forcing society to confront the deep vulnerabilities of our digital era.
Long before roads, kingdoms, or writing connected humanity, our ancestors built invisible networks through curiosity and trust. How did strangers who spoke different languages trade, share ideas, and forge relationships? Archaeology suggests that gestures, shared experiences, and the universal human instinct to connect may have sparked the first conversations—laying the foundations of civilisation thousands of years before history was written.
A casual morning conversation with one of my old school friends about India's ancient megalithic burial sites led us to a fascinating question: were these merely graves, or the earliest centres of community life and worship? From tribal monoliths in India to Göbekli Tepe in Türkiye, archaeology is reshaping our understanding of how religion, society, and civilisation first emerged.
Some teachers teach subjects; a few become part of our life story. Ruchira Didimoni taught us Chemistry, but gifted us something far more enduring—the chemistry of relationships. From a noisy classroom of boys to memories spanning half a century, her invisible bonds remained strong. Her final words became a gentle farewell.
On 30 June 1855, long before the Revolt of 1857, the Santhals launched one of the earliest organized uprisings against British colonial rule in India. Hool Diwas commemorates their extraordinary struggle for dignity, justice, and the rights to access water, forests, and land. In the present day, we reflect on this lesser-known chapter of courage, which continues to inspire conversations about freedom, cultural identity, and the rights of indigenous peoples.
A tagged Faw pigeon from the marshlands of southern Iraq landed unexpectedly on my verandah in Erbil, turning an ordinary morning into a journey through heritage, sport, and culture. Revered for its endurance and aerial artistry, the Faw pigeon is more than a bird—it is a living symbol of Iraq's rich traditions, celebrated in prestigious competitions and cherished by generations of breeders who see the sky as their arena and these remarkable birds as champions.
The Pompeii Lakshmi, an ivory statuette crafted in India nearly 2,000 years ago, was discovered among the ruins of Pompeii, buried beneath the ashes of Mount Vesuvius. Whether depicting Lakshmi or a Yakshi, the figurine stands as compelling evidence of the vibrant trade and cultural exchanges that linked ancient India and Rome across vast maritime networks.
একজন মানুষ মারা গেলে তার শেষযাত্রায় কাঁধ দিতে আমরা অনেকেই ছুটে যাই। কিন্তু সেই মানুষটি যখন বেঁচে ছিল, যখন সে নীরবে সাহায্য, সমর্থন বা শুধু একটু সহমর্মিতার অপেক্ষায় ছিল, তখন আমরা কতজন তার পাশে দাঁড়িয়েছিলাম? মৃত্যুর পরে শ্রদ্ধা জানানো সহজ। জীবনের কঠিন সময়ে পাশে দাঁড়ানোই কঠিন। হয়তো সত্যিকারের পুণ্য শেষযাত্রায় কাঁধ দেওয়ায় নয়, বরং জীবিত একজন মানুষের দুঃসময়ে তার হাত ধরে রাখার মধ্যে।
