Thoughts In A Wandering Mind

There is a building in every city that no one notices. It has no glass facade, no LED signage, no architect's name engraved on a brass plate. It is the foundation—the concrete poured deep into the earth, silent, unseen, and utterly non-negotiable. Remove it, and the tower above becomes a pile of rubble. Marriage is that foundation. Not a decoration . Not a reward. The bedrock upon which civilizations, characters, and even economies rest. We have spent a generation trying to prove otherwise. We built a culture that says: get your career first, your money first, your identity first, and then consider partnership. We treated marriage as the penthouse suite you move into after climbing the ladder. But a penthouse without a foundation is just a very expensive collapse waiting to happen. The Quiet Persistence of an Ancient Vow Marriage is not dying. It is simply becoming more honest. In the United States, roughly two million couples still marry every year. In India, that number is clo...

Twelve years have passed since Andhra Pradesh was carved out of its own history on June 2, 2014, surrendering Hyderabad — its economic engine, its administrative nerve centre , its accumulated pride — to the new state of Telangana. Few states in independent India have begun life with such a handicap: a truncated revenue base, no capital city, and five crore people looking for an address they could call their own. Twelve years later, in April 2026, Parliament finally gave Amaravati statutory status as the sole capital of Andhra Pradesh, and the President's assent made it law. It should have been a moment of collective celebration. Instead, it became another reminder of the wound that has refused to heal: the principal opposition party walked out of the Lok Sabha rather than vote for the state's own capital. This article is not an attempt to score points. It is an appeal — to examine honestly how we got here, what the opposition's resistance has cost the state, whether that r...