Sharmila Dhankar.
Polio at age 2.
Mother blind, father farmer.
Married at 18.
Beaten for dowry.
Beaten for giving birth to 2 daughters.
At 26, beaten near fatally, thrown out.
At 34, began shotput training.
At 40, 1st 🇮🇳 para-athlete 🥇 at CWG.
Delhi Police constable shoots wife de@d on road after argument, leaves her to d!e on her birthday in East Delhi.
Manish Bhati allegedly fired at Priyanka (26) during scooter ride in Kalyanpuri, fled the scene.
Passerby rushed victim to hospital where she d!ed, manhunt underway for the accused.
How less of we think a life is.
This is the fourth video of someone dying by electrocution in rains logged water.
And we don't even react viscerally.
It doesn't even anger us.
Its routine.
A Telangana-born software engineer strangled his wife just six months after their marriage, with police alleging the killing was motivated by his ongoing secret relationship with another woman in India.
Read more: https://t.co/j40xLC9tf7
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.
Thirteen years old. A child. Brutalised by 32 men. She fought for her life… and today, she lost that battle.
How do you even process this? What kind of monsters do this? What kind of society allows it to happen?
These men deserve nothing less than capital punishment. Crimes of this brutality against a child demand the strongest punishment our justice system provides.
She should have been worrying about school, friends, and dreams—not fighting for her life.
I’m angry. I’m heartbroken. And I’m ashamed that we keep failing our daughters.
“Suicide due to dowry related torture NOT VERY RARE”
HC REDUCES Husband’s LIFE Sentence to just 10 years.
THIS FUCKING COUNTRY AND ITS MONSTROUS MILORDS 👏🏽 👏🏽 👏🏽
A close male friend told me recently, “Being friends with you is work.”
I’ve heard some version of “you’re too much” my entire life. So my body reacted before my mind could. My chest tightened, my throat closed, and that familiar heat crept up my spine to the back of my neck. I started to brace myself, to shrink, to prepare for the letting go.
Then he kept talking.
“Being friends with you is work, because you ask people to be honest. To be real. To be vulnerable. You don’t do surface-level connections, and that kind of depth scares a lot of people. It’s easier to avoid it. But I’m grateful I didn’t. You forced me to look at parts of myself I’d been ignoring, and in doing so, you helped me grow into a better version of myself.”
I exhaled, deeply, finally.
The kind of exhale that releases years of being misunderstood. I cried, not from hurt, but from relief and gratitude.
May I never again apologize for my depth. May I continue to attract souls who value truth, growth, and real connection. The kind that changes you.
Story of many: they neither studied hard enough to get selected like the toppers, nor did they fully enjoy themselves by being rebellious; they just remained average.