MAADHYAM

The Dragonfly I’ve always been fascinated by these little creatures and fler they were mystical.  There’s something about them—mysterious, delicate, yet powerful. The day I drew this dragonfly, something within me shifted. It came a day after a close friend lost his father, suddenly and without warning to a Cardiac arrest. One minute he was playing with his grandchildren the next he fell dead on the sofe.  No good bye No time to react No time to process Just gone That moment made me pause. The dragonfly , in cultures around the world, is a symbol of transformation — Not just surface change, But deep, internal change that stems from emotional growth, Mental maturity, And a new understanding of life itself. Reflections Life is fragile. Life is unpredictable. It takes just one event — One breath, one heartbeat, one goodbye— To change everything we know. But in the face of this uncertainty, We must continue. We must rise, And live. Not in yesterday, Not in ...

From Innocent Play to Pressure-Packed Trends: A Tale of Two Generations Growing up, many of us remember sneaking into our parents’ rooms, rummaging through their vanity, and swiping on a tube of lipstick with reckless abandon. It wasn’t about looking perfect or capturing a moment for the camera—it was pure play. The oversized heels, the smudged red lips, and the powder dusted over our faces were all part of pretending, of exploring the idea of being "grown-up." These moments were fleeting, innocent, and most importantly, disconnected from any societal pressure. When Makeup Was Just Play Back then, makeup wasn’t a routine or a statement but a novelty. There were no expectations of perfection, no filters to compete with, and no audience to validate our efforts. We played dress-up for ourselves, for our siblings, or for a good laugh. By bedtime, the lipstick smears were wiped away, and we returned to our carefree world of books, outdoor games, and imagination. The Shift to the ...

People often ask me how I became a content creator, learned to write, and—most importantly—how I found the courage to stand up for myself. The answer is simple: Professor Jerry Pinto. I still remember our first day in class. Forty girls, all slightly nervous, trying to figure out what journalism school had in store. Jerry walked in and said something none of us expected: “You will not call me ‘Sir’. I haven’t been knighted by the Queen of England. I’m not your teacher. Call me Mr. Pinto or Jerry.” We were stunned. Then came a question that truly shook us up: “How many of you can ask your friend to return the money they borrowed, without feeling guilty or awkward?” Only a few of us raised our hands—including me. Then he asked, “How many of you have money saved up that nobody knows about?” Again, just a few hands went up. Mine included. And then… the real shocker. He told each of us to stand up and say, “F@k off.”* You can imagine our expressions. We were frozen. Some giggled nervously, ...