Rodevra Republic

At $1,790 for this Balenciaga bag, what are we meant to admire here — craftsmanship, provocation, or exclusivity itself? When my daughter visited us recently, we found ourselves discussing a high fashion brand, Balenciaga, known for distressed shoes selling for enormous sums and handbags resembling trash bags presented as high art. The initial reaction was shock, but beneath the shock was something more unsettling. What exactly was one expected to admire here? As we spoke further, it became clear that there was a much larger phenomenon unfolding in contemporary luxury fashion: the deliberate blurring of the line between sophistication, absurdity, provocation, and cultural commentary. What began as a discussion about fashion slowly opened into a larger question about modern culture itself. The rationale behind such brands operates on several levels, and not all of them are about clothing in the ordinary sense. One part of it is status signalling. Luxury goods have always functioned part...

Perhaps the missing circle was never outside the others, but quietly at the center all along The more I have looked at this diagram, the more I see that there is something fundamentally missing in it. That said, for decades in our professional lives we believed in it, as it brought clarity to an often chaotic life by encouraging us to distinguish between what we can control, what we may influence, what we must adapt to, and what ultimately lies beyond our reach. There was practical wisdom in this framework. It prevented wasted energy. It encouraged maturity. It taught realism. Yet today, as the intensity of working years has receded, I find myself free to look at these circles differently. The question that arose is: Is human life fully explained by control, influence, adaptation, and concern? Or is there another dimension, subtler and deeper, that these circles do not fully account for? What the framework primarily addresses is the mechanics of engagement with life. It helps us unde...

  High above the city, where a simple thought begins to take shape. When my friend on the 56th floor called, at first I thought he was inviting me over for a drink, as he usually does. But when I answered, he said solemnly, “Come if you are free. No agenda.” Which, in his case, usually meant there was one. We sat on the balcony. Tea arrived, as it always did, without being asked for. After some routine talk, he came to the point. “I have been hearing this term—family constitution—these days. I have been mulling over it, and I think it makes sense.” I had a feeling he had already made up his mind and was merely airing his ‘loud thinking’, seeking confirmation more than discussion. He knew I was a writer of sorts, as I used to send him my articles. He claimed he read them; I strongly suspect he didn’t. But the point is, he knew he had in me a patient listener, and someone who could help give shape to his thoughts. He is the patriarch of a large and well-known family, with its members...

A tool may shape the words, but not the thought behind them From time to time, readers may wonder whether tools based on artificial intelligence play any role in the preparation of these posts. In an age when such tools are becoming increasingly common, the question is understandable, and it seems only fair to address it openly. The answer is yes, though perhaps not in the way one might imagine. When I first encountered these tools, I approached them with some hesitation. Writing that deals with reflection, experience, and the subtleties of the inner life seemed unlikely territory for something so technical. There was a concern that a machine might smooth the language while missing the spirit behind it. Over time, however, it became clear that, when used carefully, such tools can serve a limited but useful purpose. They can help refine language, improve clarity, and gently polish a piece once it has already taken shape. The reflections themselves still begin in the same way they always...

A fingerprint, seen through layers of analysis—where observation often gives way to interpretation Every now and then, one comes across messages, often passed around as casual forwards, that begin with a few interesting facts and slowly move toward larger, more sweeping conclusions. They usually follow a familiar path. A scientific observation is presented, then expanded, and eventually interpreted in a way that goes well beyond what the original fact can support. Fingerprints offer a good example. It is true that fingerprints form before birth. It is also true that they are unique to each individual. These are established facts. But from here, the line of thinking often begins to shift. As someone who writes, I have become more aware of how language can gently steer thought. Not always deliberately, but effectively nonetheless. Certain patterns of expression, certain turns of phrase, can nudge the reader from observation toward conclusion without quite making the transition visible. V...

George Washington Carver working in his laboratory at Tuskegee Institute I was recently forwarded an article about an interesting psychological concept called social proof.  It can be broadly defined as the tendency of individuals to look to others to determine the correct behaviour in a given situation.  It rests on the implicit assumption that if many people believe or do something, it must be valid or acceptable. This behaviour is rooted in our evolutionary past where group consensus often had survival value. Considering how subtle and pervasive it is, manifesting in various forms in our lives, I realised the value of independent and critical thinking. I was looking for examples of people who demonstrated this quality—of standing against the tide and refusing to take the easy route to conformity. I did not have to stretch my thinking; the name of George Washington Carver (1864–1943) immediately came up. My acquaintance with him began years ago, through a colleague who spok...

Among the many ideals human beings aspire to, truthfulness stands apart. We often speak of seeking Truth in the highest philosophical or spiritual sense, yet in the practical circumstances of daily life we sometimes allow ourselves small compromises with truth. This contradiction reveals a deeper human frailty. How can one aspire to the Universal Truth while continuing to live with fragments of falsehood? Untruth may promise temporary advantage, but over time it quietly erodes the very core of our being. Truth, on the other hand, serves as our inner compass. Once awakened, it quietly begins to guide and check every action that strays from it. At first the discipline of truthfulness can feel difficult. Yet when truth gradually becomes a way of life, something remarkable happens: the inner truth begins to shine forth naturally. Truthfulness is no longer an effort, but an expression of one's very nature. And truthfulness extends beyond mere words. It means living in harmony with o...

In our daily lives, we create mental structures—frameworks of logic, habits, and discipline that help us navigate the world. These structures are necessary. They bring order and clarity, allowing us to function effectively amidst the many demands of life. Yet these structures also carry a hidden limitation. Over time they can harden into patterns—fixed ways of thinking, reacting, and perceiving. Gradually, we find ourselves confined within the very frameworks that once helped us. Thoughts repeat themselves, behaviours become mechanical, and emotional responses follow familiar grooves. The mind, once fluid and open, begins to resemble a structure—dense, rigid, and resistant. What lies beyond these self-created patterns? When we dare to lift our gaze and loosen our grip on these rigid constructs, we open ourselves to something far greater—a universal creative force that underlies all existence. This energy is not bound by logic or form; it moves freely, harmoniously, and beautifully. Whe...

Yusra and Sarah Mardini — swimmers, sisters, survivors From the Aegean Night to the Olympic Light There are stories that win medals, and there are stories that win something far rarer — our quiet admiration for what human beings can rise to when life strips them to the barest essentials. The story of Yusra and Sarah Mardini — two young sisters from Syria — belongs to the second kind. Long before the world knew their names, they were just teenagers in Damascus, daughters, students, swimmers. Then the war came, as wars always do — without warning, without reason, without mercy. When they fled their shattered city in 2015, they carried almost nothing except a skill they had learned in childhood: the ability to stay afloat. They were not fleeing a camp. They were fleeing a collapsing homeland. The sisters first escaped from Damascus to Lebanon, and from there made their way to Turkey — the staging point for many refugees trying to reach Europe. From Turkey, they boarded an overcrowded rubb...

Meeting between Donald Trump and Volodymyr Zelenskyy  After writing about the quiet geometry of diplomatic seating, I was reminded of another moment where that geometry quietly went missing — and how sharply it changed the tone of a meeting. There is a meeting from recent years that came back to me — one that showed, quite clearly, what happens when the angle is absent. It was the 2019 meeting between Donald Trump and Volodymyr Zelenskyy during the United Nations General Assembly. Though officially a one-to-one conversation, they were not seated in that familiar 45-degree diplomatic posture. Instead, their chairs were placed stiffly side by side, both facing the press rather than each other. The effect was immediate. There was no shared conversational space. No natural turning of the body. No easy eye contact. It looked less like two leaders in dialogue and more like two men placed on a stage for an uncomfortable joint appearance. The geometry had shifted, and with it, the atmosphe...

President Macron and Prime Minister Modi This bright sunny picture brought back old memories. Right from my childhood days, I’ve seen world leaders sit in this angular position — not facing one another, but slightly turned. I never understood why, when logic said they should be sitting face to face. Growing older, I assumed there must be some reason behind it, but never bothered to find out. Looking at this lovely picture now, I finally decided to understand why. It turns out that, like any other diplomatic posturing, this too serves several subtle psychological and visual purposes. First, it avoids a confrontational dynamic. Sitting directly opposite each other can subconsciously feel like a negotiation, interrogation, or even a contest. An angled position softens that. It suggests conversation, not confrontation — and we can see both leaders here looking relaxed and at ease. In diplomacy, optics matter as much as words. The next factor is orientation. They are not looking squarely at...

This may sound like a trivial question — the sort that belongs to a lazy morning rather than a serious conversation — but how you butter your toast can reveal more about you than you would imagine. In these tiny, automatic gestures, your inner wiring often shows itself more honestly than in your grand declarations. Consider the simple act. Do you begin at the centre and spread outwards? Do you first secure the edges and corners before moving inward? Do you drop little blobs of butter at different spots and then smooth them out? Are you generous? Frugal? Or blissfully indifferent — more worried about not dropping the toast, butter side down? A simple slice of buttered toast, quietly reflecting the small habits that reveal how we think and live At first glance, it is easy to draw amusing parallels. The centre-first person might appear faintly capitalist in instinct. The one who attends to the edges, the fringes, might seem quietly socialist. Not entirely wrong — but only half the picture...

An experience, a late-night question, and a quiet shift in understanding. Recently I was updating my website — making structural changes like creating a custom domain, strengthening security, preventing spam — and I took ChatGPT’s help. To say the least, the experience was unexpectedly smooth. For someone with only rudimentary technical knowledge, it guided me patiently and at exactly the right level. Too often, help is either over-simplified, assuming ignorance, or delivered at a level one cannot grasp. Here, the guidance was neither confusing nor patronising. When I encountered a problem, it would respond calmly: “Good. Don’t worry. We’ll stabilise this. At this point, the behaviour tells us something precise…” After a particularly long but successful session, I sighed, “Whew! I will finally call it a day. It has been a long one.” The response was telling. It listed the tasks completed — navigation inconsistencies fixed, mobile rendering stabilised, several other issues resolved — an...