Mehul Mehta

Business, want to learn many things Midnight Carver for icecream

[Narendra Modi @narendramodi]

Samvatsari reminds us that forgiveness and compassion strengthen every bond.

On this sacred occasion, may humility guide us and may kindness and goodwill shape our every action.

Michhami Dukkadam!

[Mehul Mehta @MehtaMehull]

@ShermyBiharie Listen to Album MARASIM
Words by Gulzar
Sang by Jagit Singh

[Mehul Mehta @MehtaMehull]

@mumbaiheritage They have website
Search in Google # Raj Bhavan Mumbai

[Tehxi @yajnshri]

Please place your hand upon the sacred lotus feet of Shri Hari to receive blessings.

[Gaurav Pradhan 🇮🇳 @OfficeOfDGP]

Unshakeable till my last breath.... My PM

[Mehul Mehta @MehtaMehull]

@SachdevaAmita Thank you

[Mehul Mehta @MehtaMehull]

@RoadsOfMumbai अगले जनम में

[Mehul Mehta @MehtaMehull]

@IndiaWeatherMan What about tomorrow

[Jago🇦🇹Jain🇦🇹Jago @devgurudharma]

Trend this #GetWellSoonVedPathak.

[PD™ @prashantd2]

IMO, the entire controversy over the white paint in a Mumbai housing society by a Jain family, which was later opposed by a fellow resident, is the result of an attention hungry social media influencer for engagement farming.

He made a mountain out of a molehill.

It wasn’t hurting anyone’s sentiments. It was simply the ego of one person who opposed and removed the paint which was laid to protect the saints’ feet 👣.

I support the Jain family in this matter.

[Kumar-Risid🇮🇳🚩🇮🇳 @Risid001]

This is the story of Lt. Col. Rishi Rajalakshmi (Nair), the man they call "India's Most Fearless."

THE NIGHTMARE IN PULWAMA (2017)

🔥It was March 4, 2017. Tral, Pulwama. Intel confirmed that terrorists were fortified inside a civilian house. It was a death trap. Sending men in was suicide; bombing it from afar would kill civilians.
🔥Major Rishi (then with 42 Rashtriya Rifles) made a choice that defies human instinct. He didn't order his men to go. He volunteered to go himself.
🔥His mission was to plant an IED to bring down the specific section of the house hiding the terrorists.

THE IMPACT

As he crawled into the kill zone, all hell broke loose.
🔥Bullet 1: Grazed his helmet.
🔥Bullet 2: Tore through his nose.
🔥Bullet 3: Shattered his jaw completely.
🔥Most men would die from the shock alone. Others would collapse. Rishi? He kept firing.
🔥With his face mutilated, blood pouring out, and unable to speak, he refused to evacuate until the terrorists were neutralized and his team was safe. He didn't just survive; he ensured the mission was a success.

THE RESURRECTION

🔥The aftermath was brutal. *28 major surgeries* . A face reconstructed from bone grafts and metal plates. A permanent loss of normal speech and eating abilities.
🔥The Medical Board prepared his discharge papers. " *You've done enough, soldier. Go home* ."
🔥But Lt. Col. Rishi had other plans. He didn't want a pension; he wanted his uniform. He rehabilitated himself with a ferocity that scared even his doctors.
He returned to active duty.

THE WAYANAD SAVIOR (2024)

🔥Years later, when the devastating landslides hit Wayanad, Kerala, who was leading the rescue on the ground?

🔥The Masked https://t.co/wZycQytPkd. Col. Rishi Rajalakshmi was there, wading through mud and death, pulling his own people out of the debris* . From fighting terrorists in Kashmir to saving civilians in Kerala, his war for India never ended.

WE HAVE FAILED HIM

🔥We live in a society that will make a stranger/anti nationals like Cockroaches famous for a 15-second dance reel or their anti national statements , yet we scroll right past the man who literally sacrificed his face to keep us safe. We feast on hollow entertainment while he eats through a tube.
🔥That mask isn't a choice; it’s the receipt for our freedom, and the fact that we don't know his name is our collective shame.
_Lt. Col. Rishi Rajalakshmi is not just a soldier; he is a living testament to the fact that the_ Indian Army is not made of flesh and blood, but of iron and will.
Jai Hind 🫡🇮🇳🫡
वंदे मातरम्🙏💐
Salute to our all braves who are protecting us 24x7

[Mehul Mehta @MehtaMehull]

@nsinghal211 Swing

[Neha Singhal Trader @nsinghal211]

If you -

❌ Missed #AVANTIFEEDS
❌ Missed #GALLANT
❌ Missed #GMDCLTD

❤️‍🔥 Don’t miss my next signal💯

👉 I’m going to share another stock that will give 30% in 1 week📈

🔰Follow me @nsinghal211, repost and comment “Swing” if interested

[Mehul Mehta @MehtaMehull]

@Gaurav_7887 Done

[Mehul Mehta @MehtaMehull]

@Gaurav_7887 Send

[Mohini Maheshwari @mohinimaheshwa]

On the night of May 20, 2025, a little girl in a faded pink frock fell asleep on her mother’s lap at Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus. Her parents, simple people from Solapur, had come to Mumbai for her father’s treatment. They were exhausted. Just for a moment, the mother closed her eyes.

When she opened them, her daughter was gone.

Six months.
Six months of walking from police station to police station.
Six months of showing the same crumpled photograph to strangers on trains, in slums, in orphanages.
Six months of the father not sleeping, the mother not eating, both of them growing hollow-eyed, whispering the same name into the dark: “Aarohi… Aarohi…”

In Varanasi, a thousand kilometres away, a tiny girl with no memory of her real name was learning to call herself “Kashi.” She had been found crying near the railway tracks in June, barefoot and terrified. The orphanage gave her food, a bed, and a new name. She smiled easily, because children always do, but sometimes at night she clutched the edge of her blanket and asked for “Aai” — Marathi for mother — and no one understood.

Back in Mumbai, the police refused to close the file. They printed posters with Aarohi’s face, stuck them on every platform from Lokmanya Tilak Terminus to Bhusawal to Varanasi Cantt. They ran newspaper ads, knocked on doors, begged journalists for help. Six months is a long time for hope to stay alive, but some officers carried her photograph in their shirt pockets like it was their own child.

Then, on November 13, a local reporter in Varanasi saw the poster. Something clicked. He had seen a girl who spoke Marathi words in her sleep. He made a phone call.

The next morning, a Mumbai Police inspector sat in front of a laptop in Varanasi and opened a video call. On the screen appeared a little girl in a pink frock — the same colour she was wearing the day she vanished. The mother, standing behind the officer in Mumbai, saw her daughter and collapsed without a sound. The father just kept repeating, “That’s my Aarohi… that’s my baby…”

They flew her back on Children’s Day — November 14.

When the plane landed, the entire Mumbai Crime Branch was waiting. They had bought her balloons and a new frock, sky blue this time. But the moment the little girl stepped out and saw the sea of khaki uniforms, she did something no one expected.

She ran.

Not away — toward them.

Tiny legs pumping, arms outstretched, she threw herself at the nearest officer and laughed — the purest, clearest laugh that had been missing from the world for half a year. The officer, a tough man who had seen everything, felt his eyes burn. He lifted her high, and she wrapped her arms around his neck like he was family.

Her parents were crying too hard to walk. So the policemen carried their daughter to them.

The mother touched her face again and again, as if checking she was real. The father fell to his knees and pressed his forehead to his child’s tiny feet, sobbing words no one could understand except God.

And the little girl? She just kept smiling, looking from her parents to the officers and back again, completely unaware that she had turned an entire police station into a sobbing, laughing, praying family.

Six months of darkness ended in one hug.

Aarohi is home now.
The kidnapper is still out there, but that is tomorrow’s fight.

Today, a mother is singing lullabies again.
Today, a father is smiling in his sleep.
And somewhere in Mumbai, there are policemen who will never forget the weight of a four-year-old girl in their arms — the weight of an entire life returned.

Sometimes the uniform doesn’t just catch thieves.
Sometimes it carries lost children all the way back to their mothers’ hearts.

[Mehul Mehta @MehtaMehull]

@Simi_2210_ 21

[Vishal Shah @Vishalshah04]

@myBESTElectric No electricity & water for 18+ hours in this heat! Navjivan Society Bldg No. 6 & 7B, Mumbai residents are suffering in peak summer. @mybmc @CMOMaharashtra @PMOIndia
@mybmcWardD When will this be fixed? BEST staff are more worried about their shift timings