G Writes

Every year on June 21 , the world comes together to roll out mats, stretch muscles, and celebrate International Yoga Day . And as social media floods with images of serene poses and peaceful parks, the word yoga becomes both a trend and a reminder. But yoga is far more than just a wellness routine or a path to flexibility. It's a civilizational offering , thousands of years old, rooted in profound philosophy, spiritual pursuit, and human transformation. Today, instead of another list of yoga’s health benefits, let’s trace its origin, evolution, and the surprising journey it took across the globe —a journey that began not in modern studios, but in the sacred fire of Vedic chants and the silence of Himalayan caves. The Ancient Birth of Yoga Yoga's roots reach back over 5,000 years , as recorded in the Rig Veda , one of the oldest known texts in human history. The Rig Veda—written in Sanskrit, the language in which yoga still speaks today—is a compilation of hymns and mantras...

I come from a middle-class family in Kerala. My skin is brown — brown enough to not fit the beauty standards this society has so rigidly defined. As I stand in front of the mirror, I see curves that are "too much," hair that is "too frizzy," skin that is "too dark." I have been conditioned to believe that this body — my body — is not enough. The voices around me were never kind. Relatives, neighbors, even parents, in their ignorance, made remarks that stuck to my skin like scars. “You’re too dark,” they would say. “You’re fat, your back isn’t straight, your body isn’t right.” They’d tell me not to wear white — it doesn’t “suit” me. They’d mock me for applying kajal, saying it blends into my skin tone. Red lipstick? Unthinkable. All too bold for a girl with this skin. Strangers stared. The media reinforced it. And slowly, I thought it was normal — all of it. Somehow, I grew immune to these comments. Maybe I’d just heard them so often that my ears stop...

  They came with laughter in their hands, With hearts like lanterns, glowing bright, To carve a moment out of time, Beneath the stars, beneath the light.   A mother’s prayer, a lover’s gaze, A child’s delight in winding roads, A dreamer’s pause where silence sang— All scattered now like fallen oaths.   A ring still warm upon a hand, A father’s hand, now cold, let go— Life torn away, so sudden, stark, Mid-laughter’s rise, mid-lover’s kiss.   What law of man, what claim to cause, Can stand where joy was laid so bare?  What twisted creed could sanctify The breaking of a breath so fair?   No faith commands this kind of fire, No flag flies high on bloodied peace This isn't faith, this isn’t right— No God would bless this kind of fight. So mourn we must, for lives now gone, But vow we shall, with burning cry: That never shall such horror reign, These tears will cost you far.   This terror has a name, a ...

A film is meant to be an artistic expression, a reflection of society, and sometimes, a bold mirror held up to power. Empuraan , the much-anticipated sequel to Lucifer , has not just continued the story of Khureshi Ab’raam alias Stephen Nedumpally but has ignited a larger debate. Beyond its grand cinematic experience, the film has managed to disturb certain factions, not because it tells lies, but because it dares to tell uncomfortable truths. The Fear of Truth? From its very first frames, Empuraan establishes itself as more than just a political thriller—it’s a commentary on power, corruption, and manipulation. It presents riots, political conspiracies, and systemic control not as religious conflicts but as carefully orchestrated power plays. Remember what mausi said in the movie? When a film brings up the Gujarat Riots, for example, why does it cause an uproar? What is there to hide? The fear is not about what is being said but about the possibility that people might sta...

  As I sat on the plush velvet chair, waiting for my name to be called, the grandeur of the oath-taking ceremony blurred into the background. My heart should have been soaring; this was the moment I had dreamed of my entire life. Instead, it felt heavy, as if a stone had lodged itself in my chest. The hall was filled with the who's who of Indian politics, their faces painted with false smiles and calculated congratulations. Cameras flashed, reporters buzzed, and yet, I felt utterly alone. My name is Deepak Sukhwinder, the soon-to-be Chief Minister of Delhi. A title I fought for, sacrificed for. A title I now wear like a crown of thorns. As I leaned back, my thoughts began to wander, pulling me into the labyrinth of memories I’d tried so hard to suppress. My Abba’s voice echoed in my ears, deep and commanding, yet filled with warmth. “Deepak, Dilip, you two are the roots of this family tree. Stay united, no matter what storms come your way.” Abba and Mama were everything to us. They...

  As a student, Sunday often feels like a bittersweet transition from the freedom of the weekend to the responsibilities of the week. It's the day that marks the beginning of the end, where the thought of assignments, projects, exams, and the endless stream of tasks seems to hover in the air. It's not uncommon to feel the dread creeping in – that mixture of anticipation and anxiety as Monday looms closer. But what if I told you that Sunday could be the secret ingredient to having a successful and stress-free week? The challenge isn't unique to students. As a corporate employee, my Sundays became a different kind of challenge. The relaxed feeling of the weekend is often overshadowed by the anxiety of the upcoming workweek. It is seen that employees have constant pressure of meetings, deadlines, and an overflowing inbox waiting to be tackled. For employees, Sundays become a battleground of balancing relaxation and preparing for another hectic Monday. Now, as a woman managing ...