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The postmaster’s office was located in the village of Ulapur. It was a quaint village, there was an indigo plantation nearby, and so the manager—an Englishman goaded by the need for communication—had arranged for the setting up of a post office.

The postmaster was a young man from Calcutta. Stationed here, away from the known limits of civilization, he often felt like a fish out of water. The plantation workers seemed to have their own community. Social miscegenation between two different classes of people seemed all but impossible.

In truth, the boy from the city wasn’t good at mixing with people. Uprooted and exiled to a foreign land, his feelings oscillated between arrogance and shame. He rarely met any of the villagers. He wrote poems: poems of endless waiting, poems in which the marrow of life seemed to resonate with the faint tremble of young leaves, where the memory of existence was rejuvenated by the sight of rain clouds. He longed for the security of metal roads, of tall houses which blocked the sight of clouds in the open sky. The city was spreading its tentacles, calling him back.

The postmaster’s salary was meager. Evenings would arrive with plumes of smoke rising from the cowshed. The evening would be as still as the cadence of lost poetry, the silence all around would shake the fault lines of the heart; and as all of this would take place, the postmaster would light his lamp.

The postmaster’s office was located in the village of Ulapur. It was a quaint village, there was an indigo plantation nearby, and so the manager—an Englishman goaded by the need for communication—had arranged for the setting up of a post office.

The postmaster was a young man from Calcutta. Stationed here, away from the known limits of civilization, he often felt like a fish out of water. The plantation workers seemed to have their own community. Social miscegenation between two different classes of people seemed all but impossible.

In truth, the boy from the city wasn’t good at mixing with people. Uprooted and exiled to a foreign land, his feelings oscillated between arrogance and shame. He rarely met any of the villagers. He wrote poems: poems of endless waiting, poems in which the marrow of life seemed to resonate with the faint tremble of young leaves, where the memory of existence was rejuvenated by the sight of rain clouds. He longed for the security of metal roads, of tall houses which blocked the sight of clouds in the open sky. The city was spreading its tentacles, calling him back.

The postmaster’s salary was meager. Evenings would arrive with plumes of smoke rising from the cowshed. The evening would be as still as the cadence of lost poetry, the silence all around would shake the fault lines of the heart; and as all of this would take place, the postmaster would light his lamp.

The postmaster’s office was located in the village of Ulapur. It was a quaint village, there was an indigo plantation nearby, and so the manager—an Englishman goaded by the need for communication—had arranged for the setting up of a post office.

The postmaster was a young man from Calcutta. Stationed here, away from the known limits of civilization, he often felt like a fish out of water. The plantation workers seemed to have their own community. Social miscegenation between two different classes of people seemed all but impossible.

In truth, the boy from the city wasn’t good at mixing with people. Uprooted and exiled to a foreign land, his feelings oscillated between arrogance and shame. He rarely met any of the villagers. He wrote poems: poems of endless waiting, poems in which the marrow of life seemed to resonate with the faint tremble of young leaves, where the memory of existence was rejuvenated by the sight of rain clouds. He longed for the security of metal roads, of tall houses which blocked the sight of clouds in the open sky. The city was spreading its tentacles, calling him back.

The postmaster’s salary was meager. Evenings would arrive with plumes of smoke rising from the cowshed. The evening would be as still as the cadence of lost poetry, the silence all around would shake the fault lines of the heart; and as all of this would take place, the postmaster would light his lamp.

Deven shrank back in apology. ‘No, sir I teach in- in the Hindi department. I took my degree in Hindi because-’

But the poet was not listening. He was laughing and spitting as he laughed because he did it so rustily and unwillingly. Phlegm flew. ‘You see,’ he croaked, ‘what did I tell you? You are a slave. Perhaps a spy even if you don’t know it, sent to universities to destroy whatever remains of Urdu, hunt it out and kill it. And you tell me it is for an Urdu magazine you wish to interview me. If so, why are you teaching Hindi?’ he suddenly roared, fixing Deven with that small, turtle-lidded eye that had now become lethal, a bullet.

‘I studied Urdu, sir, as a boy, in Lucknow. My father, he was a schoolteacher, a scholar, and a lover of Urdu poetry. He taught me the language. But he died. He died and my mother brought me to Delhi to live with her relations here. I was sent to the nearest school, a Hindi-medium school, sir,’ Deven stumbled through the explanation. ‘I took my degree in Hindi, sir,and now I am temporary lecturer in Lala Ram Lal College at Mirpore. It is my living, sir. You see I am married man, a family man. But I still remember my lesson in Urdu, how my father taught me, how he used to read poetry to me. If it were not for the need to earn a living, I would – I would-’

Deven shrank back in apology. ‘No, sir I teach in- in the Hindi department. I took my degree in Hindi because-’

But the poet was not listening. He was laughing and spitting as he laughed because he did it so rustily and unwillingly. Phlegm flew. ‘You see,’ he croaked, ‘what did I tell you? You are a slave. Perhaps a spy even if you don’t know it, sent to universities to destroy whatever remains of Urdu, hunt it out and kill it. And you tell me it is for an Urdu magazine you wish to interview me. If so, why are you teaching Hindi?’ he suddenly roared, fixing Deven with that small, turtle-lidded eye that had now become lethal, a bullet.

‘I studied Urdu, sir, as a boy, in Lucknow. My father, he was a schoolteacher, a scholar, and a lover of Urdu poetry. He taught me the language. But he died. He died and my mother brought me to Delhi to live with her relations here. I was sent to the nearest school, a Hindi-medium school, sir,’ Deven stumbled through the explanation. ‘I took my degree in Hindi, sir,and now I am temporary lecturer in Lala Ram Lal College at Mirpore. It is my living, sir. You see I am married man, a family man. But I still remember my lesson in Urdu, how my father taught me, how he used to read poetry to me. If it were not for the need to earn a living, I would – I would-’

Deven shrank back in apology. ‘No, sir I teach in- in the Hindi department. I took my degree in Hindi because-’

But the poet was not listening. He was laughing and spitting as he laughed because he did it so rustily and unwillingly. Phlegm flew. ‘You see,’ he croaked, ‘what did I tell you? You are a slave. Perhaps a spy even if you don’t know it, sent to universities to destroy whatever remains of Urdu, hunt it out and kill it. And you tell me it is for an Urdu magazine you wish to interview me. If so, why are you teaching Hindi?’ he suddenly roared, fixing Deven with that small, turtle-lidded eye that had now become lethal, a bullet.

‘I studied Urdu, sir, as a boy, in Lucknow. My father, he was a schoolteacher, a scholar, and a lover of Urdu poetry. He taught me the language. But he died. He died and my mother brought me to Delhi to live with her relations here. I was sent to the nearest school, a Hindi-medium school, sir,’ Deven stumbled through the explanation. ‘I took my degree in Hindi, sir,and now I am temporary lecturer in Lala Ram Lal College at Mirpore. It is my living, sir. You see I am married man, a family man. But I still remember my lesson in Urdu, how my father taught me, how he used to read poetry to me. If it were not for the need to earn a living, I would – I would-’

Deven shrank back in apology. ‘No, sir I teach in- in the Hindi department. I took my degree in Hindi because-’

But the poet was not listening. He was laughing and spitting as he laughed because he did it so rustily and unwillingly. Phlegm flew. ‘You see,’ he croaked, ‘what did I tell you? You are a slave. Perhaps a spy even if you don’t know it, sent to universities to destroy whatever remains of Urdu, hunt it out and kill it. And you tell me it is for an Urdu magazine you wish to interview me. If so, why are you teaching Hindi?’ he suddenly roared, fixing Deven with that small, turtle-lidded eye that had now become lethal, a bullet.

‘I studied Urdu, sir, as a boy, in Lucknow. My father, he was a schoolteacher, a scholar, and a lover of Urdu poetry. He taught me the language. But he died. He died and my mother brought me to Delhi to live with her relations here. I was sent to the nearest school, a Hindi-medium school, sir,’ Deven stumbled through the explanation. ‘I took my degree in Hindi, sir,and now I am temporary lecturer in Lala Ram Lal College at Mirpore. It is my living, sir. You see I am married man, a family man. But I still remember my lesson in Urdu, how my father taught me, how he used to read poetry to me. If it were not for the need to earn a living, I would – I would-’

The arts—be it music, dance, or painting—have enabled artists to express themselves freely across borders for eons. However, speaking a common language remains one of the easiest and most effective ways for people to communicate and understand one another. India has a cornucopia of regional languages and dialects, an integral part of each region’s cultural heritage. No national language has ever been declared, and many regional languages are endangered or extinct due to inadequate documentation.

Nagaland, home to 19 languages and 16 tribes, exemplifies this linguistic richness. To preserve them, Nagaland University recently organized a convention focused on their documentation and promotion. Language, as a key element of culture, plays a pivotal role in shaping regional identities, as seen in the prevalence of Russian in Kazakhstan or English in India. While Indian English writers like Salman Rushdie have global recognition, regional languages remain vital for connecting with local heritage.

The National Education Policy 2020 emphasizes the importance of learning one’s mother tongue, which connects individuals to their roots and offers insights into local traditions. Languages like Pali, which preserve the teachings of Lord Buddha, and Sanskrit, the language of the Upanishads, offer invaluable cultural and spiritual wisdom. With languages such as Aka-Bo from the Andaman Islands disappearing, documenting these endangered tongues is crucial. The loss of such languages erases not only communication but entire histories. While technology, such as translation apps, helps bridge linguistic gaps, the onus remains on the people to protect, preserve, and promote this invaluable part of India’s cultural heritage.

The arts—be it music, dance, or painting—have enabled artists to express themselves freely across borders for eons. However, speaking a common language remains one of the easiest and most effective ways for people to communicate and understand one another. India has a cornucopia of regional languages and dialects, an integral part of each region’s cultural heritage. No national language has ever been declared, and many regional languages are endangered or extinct due to inadequate documentation.

Nagaland, home to 19 languages and 16 tribes, exemplifies this linguistic richness. To preserve them, Nagaland University recently organized a convention focused on their documentation and promotion. Language, as a key element of culture, plays a pivotal role in shaping regional identities, as seen in the prevalence of Russian in Kazakhstan or English in India. While Indian English writers like Salman Rushdie have global recognition, regional languages remain vital for connecting with local heritage.

The National Education Policy 2020 emphasizes the importance of learning one’s mother tongue, which connects individuals to their roots and offers insights into local traditions. Languages like Pali, which preserve the teachings of Lord Buddha, and Sanskrit, the language of the Upanishads, offer invaluable cultural and spiritual wisdom. With languages such as Aka-Bo from the Andaman Islands disappearing, documenting these endangered tongues is crucial. The loss of such languages erases not only communication but entire histories. While technology, such as translation apps, helps bridge linguistic gaps, the onus remains on the people to protect, preserve, and promote this invaluable part of India’s cultural heritage.

The arts—be it music, dance, or painting—have enabled artists to express themselves freely across borders for eons. However, speaking a common language remains one of the easiest and most effective ways for people to communicate and understand one another. India has a cornucopia of regional languages and dialects, an integral part of each region’s cultural heritage. No national language has ever been declared, and many regional languages are endangered or extinct due to inadequate documentation.

Nagaland, home to 19 languages and 16 tribes, exemplifies this linguistic richness. To preserve them, Nagaland University recently organized a convention focused on their documentation and promotion. Language, as a key element of culture, plays a pivotal role in shaping regional identities, as seen in the prevalence of Russian in Kazakhstan or English in India. While Indian English writers like Salman Rushdie have global recognition, regional languages remain vital for connecting with local heritage.

The National Education Policy 2020 emphasizes the importance of learning one’s mother tongue, which connects individuals to their roots and offers insights into local traditions. Languages like Pali, which preserve the teachings of Lord Buddha, and Sanskrit, the language of the Upanishads, offer invaluable cultural and spiritual wisdom. With languages such as Aka-Bo from the Andaman Islands disappearing, documenting these endangered tongues is crucial. The loss of such languages erases not only communication but entire histories. While technology, such as translation apps, helps bridge linguistic gaps, the onus remains on the people to protect, preserve, and promote this invaluable part of India’s cultural heritage.

The arts—be it music, dance, or painting—have enabled artists to express themselves freely across borders for eons. However, speaking a common language remains one of the easiest and most effective ways for people to communicate and understand one another. India has a cornucopia of regional languages and dialects, an integral part of each region’s cultural heritage. No national language has ever been declared, and many regional languages are endangered or extinct due to inadequate documentation.

Nagaland, home to 19 languages and 16 tribes, exemplifies this linguistic richness. To preserve them, Nagaland University recently organized a convention focused on their documentation and promotion. Language, as a key element of culture, plays a pivotal role in shaping regional identities, as seen in the prevalence of Russian in Kazakhstan or English in India. While Indian English writers like Salman Rushdie have global recognition, regional languages remain vital for connecting with local heritage.

The National Education Policy 2020 emphasizes the importance of learning one’s mother tongue, which connects individuals to their roots and offers insights into local traditions. Languages like Pali, which preserve the teachings of Lord Buddha, and Sanskrit, the language of the Upanishads, offer invaluable cultural and spiritual wisdom. With languages such as Aka-Bo from the Andaman Islands disappearing, documenting these endangered tongues is crucial. The loss of such languages erases not only communication but entire histories. While technology, such as translation apps, helps bridge linguistic gaps, the onus remains on the people to protect, preserve, and promote this invaluable part of India’s cultural heritage.

More than Skin Deep

Our skin is not just our biggest organ, but also the one we're most familiar with. We look at it constantly, touch it, wash it, inspect it and yet when we consider looking after it, our minds often jump to aesthetics. We are inundated with ads for lotions and potions that promise to enhance our appearance, as if physical appeal is all that matters about this special organ. There are many other reasons to take care of our complexion besides cosmetic concerns. However, its condition can have knock-on effects on the rest of the body due to the dense thicket of blood vessels running under the surface. Inflammation that starts in the skin can easily spread to the heart and the brain, increasing the risk of cardiovascular disease and dementia. Wrinkles are not just a projection of our age; they can drive the aging process. We should think of skin care in the same way as exercise, and do it not just for looks, but for the undeniable health benefits. Ensuring our epidermis is in excellent condition should be a priority for anyone who wants to increase the chances of living a long life.

Research on skin care is shifting from marketing to scientific study. Certain foods can reduce damage from pollution and UV rays, while regular contact with nature may nurture the skin’s microbiome. This scientific approach helps assess trends and make informed decisions about using goods and services with proven benefits beyond claims of quick fixes, protecting our bodies from the outside.

More than Skin Deep

Our skin is not just our biggest organ, but also the one we're most familiar with. We look at it constantly, touch it, wash it, inspect it and yet when we consider looking after it, our minds often jump to aesthetics. We are inundated with ads for lotions and potions that promise to enhance our appearance, as if physical appeal is all that matters about this special organ. There are many other reasons to take care of our complexion besides cosmetic concerns. However, its condition can have knock-on effects on the rest of the body due to the dense thicket of blood vessels running under the surface. Inflammation that starts in the skin can easily spread to the heart and the brain, increasing the risk of cardiovascular disease and dementia. Wrinkles are not just a projection of our age; they can drive the aging process. We should think of skin care in the same way as exercise, and do it not just for looks, but for the undeniable health benefits. Ensuring our epidermis is in excellent condition should be a priority for anyone who wants to increase the chances of living a long life.

Research on skin care is shifting from marketing to scientific study. Certain foods can reduce damage from pollution and UV rays, while regular contact with nature may nurture the skin’s microbiome. This scientific approach helps assess trends and make informed decisions about using goods and services with proven benefits beyond claims of quick fixes, protecting our bodies from the outside.

More than Skin Deep

Our skin is not just our biggest organ, but also the one we're most familiar with. We look at it constantly, touch it, wash it, inspect it and yet when we consider looking after it, our minds often jump to aesthetics. We are inundated with ads for lotions and potions that promise to enhance our appearance, as if physical appeal is all that matters about this special organ. There are many other reasons to take care of our complexion besides cosmetic concerns. However, its condition can have knock-on effects on the rest of the body due to the dense thicket of blood vessels running under the surface. Inflammation that starts in the skin can easily spread to the heart and the brain, increasing the risk of cardiovascular disease and dementia. Wrinkles are not just a projection of our age; they can drive the aging process. We should think of skin care in the same way as exercise, and do it not just for looks, but for the undeniable health benefits. Ensuring our epidermis is in excellent condition should be a priority for anyone who wants to increase the chances of living a long life.

Research on skin care is shifting from marketing to scientific study. Certain foods can reduce damage from pollution and UV rays, while regular contact with nature may nurture the skin’s microbiome. This scientific approach helps assess trends and make informed decisions about using goods and services with proven benefits beyond claims of quick fixes, protecting our bodies from the outside.

More than Skin Deep

Our skin is not just our biggest organ, but also the one we're most familiar with. We look at it constantly, touch it, wash it, inspect it and yet when we consider looking after it, our minds often jump to aesthetics. We are inundated with ads for lotions and potions that promise to enhance our appearance, as if physical appeal is all that matters about this special organ. There are many other reasons to take care of our complexion besides cosmetic concerns. However, its condition can have knock-on effects on the rest of the body due to the dense thicket of blood vessels running under the surface. Inflammation that starts in the skin can easily spread to the heart and the brain, increasing the risk of cardiovascular disease and dementia. Wrinkles are not just a projection of our age; they can drive the aging process. We should think of skin care in the same way as exercise, and do it not just for looks, but for the undeniable health benefits. Ensuring our epidermis is in excellent condition should be a priority for anyone who wants to increase the chances of living a long life.

Research on skin care is shifting from marketing to scientific study. Certain foods can reduce damage from pollution and UV rays, while regular contact with nature may nurture the skin’s microbiome. This scientific approach helps assess trends and make informed decisions about using goods and services with proven benefits beyond claims of quick fixes, protecting our bodies from the outside.

Earlier this year, my daughter moved into college, where I noticed her neighbour's vision board filled with quotes and photos of physicians. The neighbour's mother explained it was meant to inspire her daughter, aspiring to be a pediatrician, to 'manifest' her goal. Manifestation, popularized by The Secret, suggests desires can become reality through focused thought. Neuroscientists James Doty and Sabina Brennan explore how brain function supports this idea, offering practical approaches to achieving goals.Doty's Mind Magic dismisses magical thinking, emphasizing a scientific approach to cultivating resilience and focus. His six-week plan teaches readers to embed intentions into their subconscious, rewire brain networks, and improve attention to opportunities. He argues that manifesting clarifies desires and aligns thoughts with purposeful action, transforming goals into reality.Brennan's The Neuroscience of Manifesting also debunks myths around manifestation, explaining how intentional thinking shifts perception and behaviour. She highlights the brain's negativity bias and advocates redirecting attention to positive, goal-oriented thoughts. Brennan introduces the "seven Cs of manifesting"- curiosity, compassion, connection, change, clarity, coherence, and creation - drawing from neuroscience and psychology to explain how intentional focus can lead to success.Both authors argue that tools like vision boards are not about magical outcomes but rather activating brain networks like the reticular activation system to reinforce goals. By stimulating focus and motivation, such tools help translate aspirations into action. Ultimately, Doty and Brennan remind us that achieving our ambitions depends on intention, focus, and actionable change -a "real magic" rooted in our own brains and behaviours.

Earlier this year, my daughter moved into college, where I noticed her neighbour's vision board filled with quotes and photos of physicians. The neighbour's mother explained it was meant to inspire her daughter, aspiring to be a pediatrician, to 'manifest' her goal. Manifestation, popularized by The Secret, suggests desires can become reality through focused thought. Neuroscientists James Doty and Sabina Brennan explore how brain function supports this idea, offering practical approaches to achieving goals.Doty's Mind Magic dismisses magical thinking, emphasizing a scientific approach to cultivating resilience and focus. His six-week plan teaches readers to embed intentions into their subconscious, rewire brain networks, and improve attention to opportunities. He argues that manifesting clarifies desires and aligns thoughts with purposeful action, transforming goals into reality.Brennan's The Neuroscience of Manifesting also debunks myths around manifestation, explaining how intentional thinking shifts perception and behaviour. She highlights the brain's negativity bias and advocates redirecting attention to positive, goal-oriented thoughts. Brennan introduces the "seven Cs of manifesting"- curiosity, compassion, connection, change, clarity, coherence, and creation - drawing from neuroscience and psychology to explain how intentional focus can lead to success.Both authors argue that tools like vision boards are not about magical outcomes but rather activating brain networks like the reticular activation system to reinforce goals. By stimulating focus and motivation, such tools help translate aspirations into action. Ultimately, Doty and Brennan remind us that achieving our ambitions depends on intention, focus, and actionable change -a "real magic" rooted in our own brains and behaviours.

Earlier this year, my daughter moved into college, where I noticed her neighbour's vision board filled with quotes and photos of physicians. The neighbour's mother explained it was meant to inspire her daughter, aspiring to be a pediatrician, to 'manifest' her goal. Manifestation, popularized by The Secret, suggests desires can become reality through focused thought. Neuroscientists James Doty and Sabina Brennan explore how brain function supports this idea, offering practical approaches to achieving goals.Doty's Mind Magic dismisses magical thinking, emphasizing a scientific approach to cultivating resilience and focus. His six-week plan teaches readers to embed intentions into their subconscious, rewire brain networks, and improve attention to opportunities. He argues that manifesting clarifies desires and aligns thoughts with purposeful action, transforming goals into reality.Brennan's The Neuroscience of Manifesting also debunks myths around manifestation, explaining how intentional thinking shifts perception and behaviour. She highlights the brain's negativity bias and advocates redirecting attention to positive, goal-oriented thoughts. Brennan introduces the "seven Cs of manifesting"- curiosity, compassion, connection, change, clarity, coherence, and creation - drawing from neuroscience and psychology to explain how intentional focus can lead to success.Both authors argue that tools like vision boards are not about magical outcomes but rather activating brain networks like the reticular activation system to reinforce goals. By stimulating focus and motivation, such tools help translate aspirations into action. Ultimately, Doty and Brennan remind us that achieving our ambitions depends on intention, focus, and actionable change -a "real magic" rooted in our own brains and behaviours.

Earlier this year, my daughter moved into college, where I noticed her neighbour's vision board filled with quotes and photos of physicians. The neighbour's mother explained it was meant to inspire her daughter, aspiring to be a pediatrician, to 'manifest' her goal. Manifestation, popularized by The Secret, suggests desires can become reality through focused thought. Neuroscientists James Doty and Sabina Brennan explore how brain function supports this idea, offering practical approaches to achieving goals.Doty's Mind Magic dismisses magical thinking, emphasizing a scientific approach to cultivating resilience and focus. His six-week plan teaches readers to embed intentions into their subconscious, rewire brain networks, and improve attention to opportunities. He argues that manifesting clarifies desires and aligns thoughts with purposeful action, transforming goals into reality.Brennan's The Neuroscience of Manifesting also debunks myths around manifestation, explaining how intentional thinking shifts perception and behaviour. She highlights the brain's negativity bias and advocates redirecting attention to positive, goal-oriented thoughts. Brennan introduces the "seven Cs of manifesting"- curiosity, compassion, connection, change, clarity, coherence, and creation - drawing from neuroscience and psychology to explain how intentional focus can lead to success.Both authors argue that tools like vision boards are not about magical outcomes but rather activating brain networks like the reticular activation system to reinforce goals. By stimulating focus and motivation, such tools help translate aspirations into action. Ultimately, Doty and Brennan remind us that achieving our ambitions depends on intention, focus, and actionable change -a "real magic" rooted in our own brains and behaviours.

Unless one is wealthy, there is no use in being a charming fellow. Romance is the privilege of the rich, not the profession of the unemployed. The poor should be practical and prosaic. It is better to have a permanent income than to be fascinating. These are the great truths of modern life which Hughie Erskine never realized. Intellectually, he was not of much importance. He never said a brilliant or even ill-natured thing in his life. But he was wonderfully good-looking, as popular with men as he was with women, and had every accomplishment except making money. His father had bequeathed him a cavalry sword and a History of the Peninsular War in fifteen volumes. Hughie hung the first over his looking-glass, put the second on a shelf between Ruff's Guide and Bailey's Magazine, and lived on two hundred a year from an aunt. He had gone on the Stock Exchange for six months; but what was a butterfly to do among bulls and bears? He had been a tea-merchant for a little longer but soon tired of pekoe and souchong. Then he tried selling dry sherry. That did not answer. Ultimately, he became nothing: a delightful, ineffectual young man with a perfect profile and no profession.

To make matters worse, he was in love with Laura Merton, the daughter of a retired Colonel. Laura adored him, and he worshipped her, but neither had a penny to their name. Though the Colonel liked Hughie, he refused to approve their engagement.

Unless one is wealthy, there is no use in being a charming fellow. Romance is the privilege of the rich, not the profession of the unemployed. The poor should be practical and prosaic. It is better to have a permanent income than to be fascinating. These are the great truths of modern life which Hughie Erskine never realized. Intellectually, he was not of much importance. He never said a brilliant or even ill-natured thing in his life. But he was wonderfully good-looking, as popular with men as he was with women, and had every accomplishment except making money. His father had bequeathed him a cavalry sword and a History of the Peninsular War in fifteen volumes. Hughie hung the first over his looking-glass, put the second on a shelf between Ruff's Guide and Bailey's Magazine, and lived on two hundred a year from an aunt. He had gone on the Stock Exchange for six months; but what was a butterfly to do among bulls and bears? He had been a tea-merchant for a little longer but soon tired of pekoe and souchong. Then he tried selling dry sherry. That did not answer. Ultimately, he became nothing: a delightful, ineffectual young man with a perfect profile and no profession.

To make matters worse, he was in love with Laura Merton, the daughter of a retired Colonel. Laura adored him, and he worshipped her, but neither had a penny to their name. Though the Colonel liked Hughie, he refused to approve their engagement.

Unless one is wealthy, there is no use in being a charming fellow. Romance is the privilege of the rich, not the profession of the unemployed. The poor should be practical and prosaic. It is better to have a permanent income than to be fascinating. These are the great truths of modern life which Hughie Erskine never realized. Intellectually, he was not of much importance. He never said a brilliant or even ill-natured thing in his life. But he was wonderfully good-looking, as popular with men as he was with women, and had every accomplishment except making money. His father had bequeathed him a cavalry sword and a History of the Peninsular War in fifteen volumes. Hughie hung the first over his looking-glass, put the second on a shelf between Ruff's Guide and Bailey's Magazine, and lived on two hundred a year from an aunt. He had gone on the Stock Exchange for six months; but what was a butterfly to do among bulls and bears? He had been a tea-merchant for a little longer but soon tired of pekoe and souchong. Then he tried selling dry sherry. That did not answer. Ultimately, he became nothing: a delightful, ineffectual young man with a perfect profile and no profession.

To make matters worse, he was in love with Laura Merton, the daughter of a retired Colonel. Laura adored him, and he worshipped her, but neither had a penny to their name. Though the Colonel liked Hughie, he refused to approve their engagement.

Unless one is wealthy, there is no use in being a charming fellow. Romance is the privilege of the rich, not the profession of the unemployed. The poor should be practical and prosaic. It is better to have a permanent income than to be fascinating. These are the great truths of modern life which Hughie Erskine never realized. Intellectually, he was not of much importance. He never said a brilliant or even ill-natured thing in his life. But he was wonderfully good-looking, as popular with men as he was with women, and had every accomplishment except making money. His father had bequeathed him a cavalry sword and a History of the Peninsular War in fifteen volumes. Hughie hung the first over his looking-glass, put the second on a shelf between Ruff's Guide and Bailey's Magazine, and lived on two hundred a year from an aunt. He had gone on the Stock Exchange for six months; but what was a butterfly to do among bulls and bears? He had been a tea-merchant for a little longer but soon tired of pekoe and souchong. Then he tried selling dry sherry. That did not answer. Ultimately, he became nothing: a delightful, ineffectual young man with a perfect profile and no profession.

To make matters worse, he was in love with Laura Merton, the daughter of a retired Colonel. Laura adored him, and he worshipped her, but neither had a penny to their name. Though the Colonel liked Hughie, he refused to approve their engagement.

The digital revolution has re-framed the way Indian students communicate, learn, and connect. Instagram, WhatsApp, and Facebook have entered the daily lives of millions of students. Today, 393 million young people use social media in India. According to a study compiled by the Internet and Mobile Association of India (IAMAI) in 2023, teenagers spend more than 2-3 hours on platforms like Instagram and YouTube. Social media is an important tool for learning and interaction, but unregulated usage can have serious negative impacts on mental health, academic performance, and emotional well-being. The most alarming characteristic observed in a young Indian student is social media addiction. Reports indicate that 27% of teenagers in India develop features of social media dependency, leading to a lack of concentration, bad academic output, and mental illness conditions. Continuous demands of checking notifications, posting updates, and scrolling feeds form a pattern of instant indulgence thereby causing reduced productivity and increased alienation.Schools can lead in this area by incorporating media literacy and mental health awareness into the curriculum. Equipping Indian students with digital literacy skills will help them have an open conversation and provide emotional support to maintain a balanced relationship between social media and real life. As the worlds collide digitally, Indian youth have to be equipped with overall skills to navigate these electronic spaces thoughtfully and responsibly. Educators, parents, and policymakers can create that generation that works well in digital culture and values the virtual world's humane touch and well-being.

The digital revolution has re-framed the way Indian students communicate, learn, and connect. Instagram, WhatsApp, and Facebook have entered the daily lives of millions of students. Today, 393 million young people use social media in India. According to a study compiled by the Internet and Mobile Association of India (IAMAI) in 2023, teenagers spend more than 2-3 hours on platforms like Instagram and YouTube. Social media is an important tool for learning and interaction, but unregulated usage can have serious negative impacts on mental health, academic performance, and emotional well-being. The most alarming characteristic observed in a young Indian student is social media addiction. Reports indicate that 27% of teenagers in India develop features of social media dependency, leading to a lack of concentration, bad academic output, and mental illness conditions. Continuous demands of checking notifications, posting updates, and scrolling feeds form a pattern of instant indulgence thereby causing reduced productivity and increased alienation.Schools can lead in this area by incorporating media literacy and mental health awareness into the curriculum. Equipping Indian students with digital literacy skills will help them have an open conversation and provide emotional support to maintain a balanced relationship between social media and real life. As the worlds collide digitally, Indian youth have to be equipped with overall skills to navigate these electronic spaces thoughtfully and responsibly. Educators, parents, and policymakers can create that generation that works well in digital culture and values the virtual world's humane touch and well-being.

The digital revolution has re-framed the way Indian students communicate, learn, and connect. Instagram, WhatsApp, and Facebook have entered the daily lives of millions of students. Today, 393 million young people use social media in India. According to a study compiled by the Internet and Mobile Association of India (IAMAI) in 2023, teenagers spend more than 2-3 hours on platforms like Instagram and YouTube. Social media is an important tool for learning and interaction, but unregulated usage can have serious negative impacts on mental health, academic performance, and emotional well-being. The most alarming characteristic observed in a young Indian student is social media addiction. Reports indicate that 27% of teenagers in India develop features of social media dependency, leading to a lack of concentration, bad academic output, and mental illness conditions. Continuous demands of checking notifications, posting updates, and scrolling feeds form a pattern of instant indulgence thereby causing reduced productivity and increased alienation.Schools can lead in this area by incorporating media literacy and mental health awareness into the curriculum. Equipping Indian students with digital literacy skills will help them have an open conversation and provide emotional support to maintain a balanced relationship between social media and real life. As the worlds collide digitally, Indian youth have to be equipped with overall skills to navigate these electronic spaces thoughtfully and responsibly. Educators, parents, and policymakers can create that generation that works well in digital culture and values the virtual world's humane touch and well-being.

The digital revolution has re-framed the way Indian students communicate, learn, and connect. Instagram, WhatsApp, and Facebook have entered the daily lives of millions of students. Today, 393 million young people use social media in India. According to a study compiled by the Internet and Mobile Association of India (IAMAI) in 2023, teenagers spend more than 2-3 hours on platforms like Instagram and YouTube. Social media is an important tool for learning and interaction, but unregulated usage can have serious negative impacts on mental health, academic performance, and emotional well-being. The most alarming characteristic observed in a young Indian student is social media addiction. Reports indicate that 27% of teenagers in India develop features of social media dependency, leading to a lack of concentration, bad academic output, and mental illness conditions. Continuous demands of checking notifications, posting updates, and scrolling feeds form a pattern of instant indulgence thereby causing reduced productivity and increased alienation.Schools can lead in this area by incorporating media literacy and mental health awareness into the curriculum. Equipping Indian students with digital literacy skills will help them have an open conversation and provide emotional support to maintain a balanced relationship between social media and real life. As the worlds collide digitally, Indian youth have to be equipped with overall skills to navigate these electronic spaces thoughtfully and responsibly. Educators, parents, and policymakers can create that generation that works well in digital culture and values the virtual world's humane touch and well-being.

I was completely charmed by Madhava Rao's antiquarian bookshop in Basavanagudi, Bengaluru. The stock was not chock-a-block with rarities, first or expensive editions. Its charm lay in stocking well-preserved old editions, some genuinely antiquarian, many out of print, all gathered fetchingly in one room full of gilt-edged spines, the smell of ageing leather creating an enchanting atmosphere. Rao's meticulous care and presentation made every copy desirable.When I had finished slavering over the books restored, I insisted upon writing about his book shop. But Rao forbade it, relying solely on word of mouth to attract a select customer base. As I got ready to leave his bookshop, he stopped me. "I might speak a little piece of him after all. He made me promise that I would not write anything. But then 'When can I write about your bookshop?', I asked. He replied, "When I finally close the bookshop."That moment came in March 2013, when he passed away from cancer at 78. Even on his final day, he completed book transactions before turning to his restoration work. A self-taught bibliophile and a perfectionist, Rao restored broken editions to exceptional condition, ensuring his customers held something truly valuable. Despite his passion, he kept a low profile, preferring solitude to study and restore his "antiquarian loot."Before his death, he quietly sold his collection to a longstanding customer, ensuring the books were preserved. His legacy lives on in the hands of collectors who cherish his devotion to the art of antiquarian book-selling.

I was completely charmed by Madhava Rao's antiquarian bookshop in Basavanagudi, Bengaluru. The stock was not chock-a-block with rarities, first or expensive editions. Its charm lay in stocking well-preserved old editions, some genuinely antiquarian, many out of print, all gathered fetchingly in one room full of gilt-edged spines, the smell of ageing leather creating an enchanting atmosphere. Rao's meticulous care and presentation made every copy desirable.When I had finished slavering over the books restored, I insisted upon writing about his book shop. But Rao forbade it, relying solely on word of mouth to attract a select customer base. As I got ready to leave his bookshop, he stopped me. "I might speak a little piece of him after all. He made me promise that I would not write anything. But then 'When can I write about your bookshop?', I asked. He replied, "When I finally close the bookshop."That moment came in March 2013, when he passed away from cancer at 78. Even on his final day, he completed book transactions before turning to his restoration work. A self-taught bibliophile and a perfectionist, Rao restored broken editions to exceptional condition, ensuring his customers held something truly valuable. Despite his passion, he kept a low profile, preferring solitude to study and restore his "antiquarian loot."Before his death, he quietly sold his collection to a longstanding customer, ensuring the books were preserved. His legacy lives on in the hands of collectors who cherish his devotion to the art of antiquarian book-selling.

I was completely charmed by Madhava Rao's antiquarian bookshop in Basavanagudi, Bengaluru. The stock was not chock-a-block with rarities, first or expensive editions. Its charm lay in stocking well-preserved old editions, some genuinely antiquarian, many out of print, all gathered fetchingly in one room full of gilt-edged spines, the smell of ageing leather creating an enchanting atmosphere. Rao's meticulous care and presentation made every copy desirable.When I had finished slavering over the books restored, I insisted upon writing about his book shop. But Rao forbade it, relying solely on word of mouth to attract a select customer base. As I got ready to leave his bookshop, he stopped me. "I might speak a little piece of him after all. He made me promise that I would not write anything. But then 'When can I write about your bookshop?', I asked. He replied, "When I finally close the bookshop."That moment came in March 2013, when he passed away from cancer at 78. Even on his final day, he completed book transactions before turning to his restoration work. A self-taught bibliophile and a perfectionist, Rao restored broken editions to exceptional condition, ensuring his customers held something truly valuable. Despite his passion, he kept a low profile, preferring solitude to study and restore his "antiquarian loot."Before his death, he quietly sold his collection to a longstanding customer, ensuring the books were preserved. His legacy lives on in the hands of collectors who cherish his devotion to the art of antiquarian book-selling.