If voters can HIRE a neta, they should be able to FIRE the neta too.
If Indian voters have the Right to Elect, they should have the ‘RIGHT TO RECALL’ too.
Right to Recall is a mechanism that empowers voters to de-elect an elected representative, before their term ends, if they fail to discharge their duties. If we can impeach the President, the Vice President and judges, and move a no confidence motion against an elected government mid term, then why should voters be forced to tolerate a non performing MP or MLA for five full years.
Five years is too long. There is no profession where you underperform for five years with zero consequences.
More than 24 democracies in the world such as the United States, Switzerland etc. provide arecall or voter initiated removal mechanisms in some form. If Indian voters have the right to elect, they should have the right to recall too.
However, there should be safeguards to prevent misuse:
Threshold - At least 35 to 40 percent voters should back a recall trigger through a verified petition before any recall vote is held
Cooling period - A minimum 18 month lock in after election so the representative has time to deliver and cannot be targeted immediately after winning
Clear grounds- Recall only for proven misconduct, fraud, corruption or serious neglect of duty, not everyday political disagreements
Final test- Recall succeeds only if more than 50 percent voters support removal in the recall vote
This is citizen empowerment. It will push parties to field performers, reduce corruption, and bring democracy back to accountability.
Voters have the right to vote someone into office and they should have the right to vote them out of office too.
I’m increasingly convinced that the willingness to change your mind is the ultimate sign of intelligence. The most impressive people I know change their minds often in response to new information. It’s like a software update. The goal isn't to be right. It's to find the truth.
"When you're 20 you care what everyone thinks, when you're 40 you stop caring what everyone thinks, when you're 60 you realize no one was ever thinking about you in the first place."
Winston Churchill
A message from a Kindergarten teacher:
After forty years in the classroom, my career ended with one small sentence from a six-year-old:
“My dad says people like you don’t matter anymore.”
No sneer. No malice. Just quiet honesty — the kind that cuts deeper because it’s innocent. He blinked, then added, “You don’t even have a TikTok.”
My name is Mrs. Clara Holt, and for four decades, I taught kindergarten in a small Denver suburb. Today, I stacked the last box on my desk and locked the door behind me.
When I started teaching in the early 1980s, it felt like a promise — a shared belief that what we did mattered. We weren’t rich, but we were valued. Parents brought warm cookies to parent nights. Kids gave you handmade cards with hearts that didn’t quite line up. Watching a child sound out their first sentence felt like magic.
But that world slowly slipped away. The job I once knew has been replaced by exhaustion, red tape, and a kind of loneliness I can’t quite describe.
My evenings used to be filled with construction paper, glitter, and glue sticks. Now they’re spent filling out digital reports to protect myself from angry emails or lawsuits. I’ve been yelled at by parents in front of twenty-five children — one filming me with his phone while I tried to calm another child mid-meltdown.
And the kids… they’ve changed too. Not by choice.
They arrive tired, anxious, overstimulated. Their tiny fingers know how to swipe a screen before they can hold a crayon. Some can’t make eye contact or wait in line. We’re expected to fix all of it — to patch the gaps, heal the trauma, teach the curriculum, and document every move — in six hours a day, with resources that barely fill a drawer.
The little reading corner I once built, full of soft beanbags and paper stars, was replaced by data charts and “learning metrics.” A young principal once told me, “Clara, maybe you’re too nurturing. The district wants measurable results.”
As if kindness were a weakness.
Still, I stayed. Because of the small, holy moments that no spreadsheet could measure —
a whisper of, “You remind me of my grandma.”
a shaky note that read, “I feel safe here.”
a quiet boy finally meeting my eyes and saying, “I read the whole page.”
Those tiny sparks were my reason to keep showing up.
But this last year broke something in me.
The aggression grew sharper. The laughter in the staff room turned to silence. The light went out of so many eyes. I watched brilliant teachers — my friends — vanish under the weight of burnout, their joy replaced by survival.
I felt myself fading too, like chalk on a board that’s been wiped one too many times.
So today, I began my goodbye. I pulled faded art off the walls and tucked thirty years of handmade cards into a single box. In the back of a drawer, I found a letter from a student from 1998:
“Thank you for loving me when I was hard to love.”
I sat on the floor and cried.
No party. No applause. Just a handshake from a young principal who called me “Ma’am” while checking his notifications.
I left my rocking chair behind, and my sticker box too. What I carried with me were the memories — the faces of hundreds of children who once trusted me enough to reach out their hands and learn. That can’t be uploaded. It can’t be measured. It can’t be replaced.
I miss when teachers were partners, not targets. When parents and educators worked side by side, not in opposition. When schools cared more about wonder than numbers.
So if you know a teacher — any teacher — thank them. Not with a mug or a gift card, but with your words. With your respect. With your understanding that behind every test score is a heart that cared enough to try.
Because in a world that often overlooks them, teachers are the ones who never forget our children.
Most beautiful human that walked the Earth has died. I really do hope that his DNA is stashed someplace safe, because when cloning begins, we want more of #RobertRedford#RIPRobertRedford
Pull Up Strength is an indicator for health and longevity.
But most people can't even do one.
Let's change that.
Here's the simple process I used to go from zero to pumping out pulls ups for fun:
= Thread =
Never thought I’d get to watch drama unfold on such a massive scale. This is a diplomatic disaster. I personally feel Zelenskyy did no wrong. Both leaders are not on the same stress level.
"When a society loses its moral compass, it collapses from within." – G.K. Chesterton
A Thread Exposing the Decline of the West🧵
1. The Celebration of Obesity
For the first time in India (at least as far as anyone can remember!), Kerala’s outgoing ChiefSecretary, Dr V, Venu, handed over the CS’s post to his wife, Sarada Murlidharan, at a formal handover ceremony at the secretariat in Thiruvananthapuram. Both are IAS officers of the 1990 batch but Venu is several months older than his wife, who is next in seniority in the service.
A clip of the ceremony: the government was able to economise on the bouquet!