FunDuhMental

Striver, Seeker and Finder.

[quintessential_woman @speakup96377]

@pulkit5Dx If u book cheapest ride, the driver won't come for that amount of cheapness. U will be waiting forever for the ride and the driver won't move an inch from the location where he currently choose ur ride. Finally u will cancel and book on a higher fare. Stop promoting such crap.

[FunDuhMental @cop_ascetic]

@IndianTechGuide Any idea how many TASMAC outlets are there in the state now?

[FunDuhMental @cop_ascetic]

@Oxford775 @IndianTechGuide Are you sure? The total is coming to 120 MLAs.

[Minakshi Khati @aipangirl]

Evening Walk karte huve jab ye View dikhe🥹🙋🏻‍♀️

[Raj Thackeray @RajThackeray]

One of my absolute favourite television presenters, Sir David Attenborough, turns 100 today. Heartiest wishes to him on this remarkable milestone.

Around 2006, David Attenborough’s series ‘Planet Earth’ was released. That was still the era of DVDs. From that time onwards, I became almost obsessed with the work of this extraordinary man. Watching every new series that followed Planet Earth - first on DVDs and later on Blu-rays, as soon as they were released - became a passion for me.

Then came ‘Africa’ in 2013. Its opening montage was so breathtaking, such a masterclass in visual storytelling, that I have lost count of how many times I must have watched it.

Whenever I watch Attenborough’s documentaries, the way he narrates, I feel as if I am listening to a fairy tale. You become immersed in the story he tells, and once you enter that world, it remains with you forever. Many people have made documentaries over the years, but very few have possessed the rare storytelling gift of David Attenborough.

When one looks at Sir David Attenborough’s life, one is astonished at the life this man has lived, and how much he has given to the world. From black-and-white television to colour broadcasting, from high definition to 3D to 4K, he remained present through every technological transformation, narrating the story of nature with the same sense of wonder. And while doing so, he never tried to dominate the screen himself. Instead, he kept nature, the very thing he deeply loved, front and center.

Many people live to see 100. But there are a few rare individuals who spend their entire lives searching for something, and for whom that search itself becomes their lifelong companion.

Over the last hundred years, what has Attenborough not witnessed? The rise of television, the Second World War, the transition from black-and-white screens to colour, the satellite revolution, the jet age, the digital age, the internet age — and perhaps most importantly, humanity’s own transformation from being merely a part of the nature to becoming a force capable of destroying it in the name of development. In many ways, he witnessed the fastest century in human evolution. Yet despite all these changes, he continued to tell the story of nature with undiminished passion and curiosity.

The Attenborough who once introduced the world to the sheer beauty of nature gradually became the Attenborough who began warning us, with visible anguish, about how humanity itself is destroying that very world. If one wishes to see the scale of ecological decline that has happened within just five or six decades, one can trace it through the journey of David Attenborough’s documentaries themselves.

BBC’s public broadcasting demonstrated that deeply enriching content on science and nature could be created in a visually stunning yet accessible way. But it was David Attenborough who showed how powerful, precise and emotionally effective such storytelling could truly become.

I could write much more about Attenborough. But instead, I would especially urge Marathi youngsters to watch his documentaries. Watch them not just for the storytelling, but also to understand how beautiful nature truly is, and how recklessly we are destroying it in the name of roads, bridges and endless development.

There is one more reason why my colleagues in the media should watch Attenborough closely: when your understanding of a subject is deep and authentic, you stop worrying endlessly about whether your content will be watched or what needs to be done to make it “viral.”

Attenborough was born in an era when humanity was still discovering the mysteries of of our world and nature with curiosity and wonder. Today, at 100, he is witnessing a time when that same humanity risks pushing the planet and nature towards destruction. May he live long enough to once again see this Earth flourishing, vibrant and alive.

Heartfelt birthday wishes to Sir David Attenborough once again.

Raj Thackeray

[Sᴀɴᴀᴛᴀɴ Pʀɪᴅᴇ 🚩 @Pride_sanatan]

This incident is very shameful.
Nitesh Dwivedi showed the valid driving license of DigiLocker, which is completely legal as per the rules of the government. Yet the police officer turned him down, insulted him by the ear and forcibly took away his entire day's earnings of ₹3000.
@DelhiPolice @CPDelhi
Immediate action should be taken against this officer, clear instructions should be issued in all police stations on the legality of DigiLocker and Nitesh should get justice.
This atrocity must stop now.
#JusticeForNitishDwivedi

[FunDuhMental @cop_ascetic]

If the intention in posting this menu on X was to invite derision and trolling on the Rashtrapati Bhawan managers, WION has succeeded. If not, it is a really stupid, unthinking post and lazy journalism.

[Sidhant Sibal @sidhant]

Menu of the banquet hosted by President Murmu in honour of Vietnam president To Lam

[FunDuhMental @cop_ascetic]

@stardust3001 @JosD92official Prolly didn't want the mandap and wedding feast to go waste.

[FunDuhMental @cop_ascetic]

@Ekalavya260240 @Hardisohi @simply_mixed_up An IPS officer in SP/SSP-level posting faces sensitive situations and challenges every few days. Same with any IAS heading a district or municipality. Not fair to say they pass one exam and eat malai for the rest of their days, sir. Do ORs say officers pass one exam and enjoy?

[FunDuhMental @cop_ascetic]

@OurTemples @airindia Air India was atrocious on refund matters when it was a PSE. I had hoped that it would have changed under private management. Apparently, not.
எரியிற வீட்டில் அகபட்டதை சுருட்டும் attitude was not expected from a Tata company.

[FunDuhMental @cop_ascetic]

@stardust3001

[FunDuhMental @cop_ascetic]

@ramk8060 இந்த சுவர் இன்னும் எத்தனை உயிரை காவு வாங்குமோ

[FunDuhMental @cop_ascetic]

இன்னும் இந்த சுவரு எத்தனை உயிரை காவு வாங்கும்?

[FunDuhMental @cop_ascetic]

@News9Tweets Seems like a fake video

[FunDuhMental @cop_ascetic]

@aipangirl फूलदेई उत्सव की शुभकामनाएं।
कौनसी क़िताब है यह, खाती जी?

[FunDuhMental @cop_ascetic]

@Elangov26895272 @suryaxavier1 Lumpen (லம்ப்பன்) - இது பொதுவாக கல்வி அறிவற்ற, சமூக ஒழுங்கீனமான அல்லது 'தரம் குறைந்த' வர்க்கத்தினரைக் (lumpen proletariat) குறிக்கப் பயன்படுத்தப்படும் ஒரு அரசியல்/சமூகவியல் சொல்.
Merriam-Webster Dictionary

[FunDuhMental @cop_ascetic]

Sanju Samson deserves to be T20 captain of India.
#t20worldcup2026

[FunDuhMental @cop_ascetic]

Et tu, Imran?

[Mohamed Imranullah S @imranhindu]

சில ஆண்டுகளுக்கு முன் என் நண்பன் ஒருவன் தன் மனைவி விவாகரத்து நோட்டீஸ் அனுப்பியுள்ளதாக கூறி இரண்டு மணி நேரம் என்னிடம் புலம்பினான். அவன் மனைவி தன்மீது அபாண்டமான குற்றச்சாட்டுகளை கூறியுள்ளதாகவும் ஏதோ உலகத்திலேயே அவனுக்கு மட்டும் தான் இப்படி ஒரு பிரச்சனை வந்துவிட்டது போல் கதறினான். நான் அவனிடம் ஒரேயொரு முறை குடும்ப நல நீதிமன்றத்திற்கு சென்று வருமாறு கூறினேன்.

அவன் அந்த நீதிமன்றத்திலிருந்து திரும்பியவுடன் என்னிடம் கூறியது: "என்னடா நமக்கு மட்டும்தான் பிரச்சனைனு நினனச்சா அங்க ஒரு ஊரே நிக்குது. ஆளாளுக்கு ஒரு கதையை சொல்றாங்க. என்னைவிட மோசமான கேஸெல்லாம் இருந்துச்சுடா. அதையெல்லாம் கம்பேர் பன்னும்போது என் நிலைமை எவ்வளவோ பெட்டர்."

ஒரு ஆணும் பெண்ணும் சேர்ந்து பொது நிகழ்வுக்கு சென்றவுடன், இந்த சமூகம் தன் கற்பனைக்கு தோன்றுவதையெல்லாம் பேசும்போது, சம்பந்தப்பட்ட நபரின் மனைவி அந்த உறவை சந்தேகப்படுவதில் தவறே கிடையாது. திருமண உறவில் சந்தேகம் என்பது எதார்த்தமான ஒன்று. அன்பு அதிகமாக இருக்கும் போது சந்தேகமும் எழத்தான் செய்யும். அது சிறிதாக ஆரம்பித்து பூதாகரமாக முடியும். கணவனும் மனைவியும் தான் மனம் விட்டு பேசி பிரச்சனையை தீர்க்க வேண்டும். இந்த சமூகத்திற்கும் அவர்களுடைய தனிப்பட்ட இல்லற வாழ்க்கைக்கும் எந்த சம்பந்தமும் கிடையாது. நீதிமன்றங்கள் கூட இல்லறம் சம்பந்தப்பட்ட பிரச்சனைகளில் சமரச தீர்வைத்தான் விரும்பும்.

எந்தவொரு பிரச்சனையிலும் இருதரப்பையும் கேட்காமல் யாரும் எந்த முடிவுக்கும் வரமுடியாது. இந்த பிரச்சனையில் மூன்றாவதாக ஒரு பெண்ணும் சம்பந்தப்பட்டிருப்பதால், அவர் தன் பெயருக்கு களங்கம் வரும் என தெரிந்தும் ஏன் அந்த நபருடன் பொது வெளியில் வர சம்மதித்தார்? தன்னுடைய குடும்ப வாழ்க்கை, குழந்தைகளின் நலன் மற்றும் அரசியல் எதிர்காலமே பாதிக்கும் என தெரிந்தும் ஏன் அந்த நபரும் அந்த பெண்ணுடன் பொதுவெளியில் வந்தார்? என்பதெல்லாம் சம்பந்தப்பட்டவர்கள் தான் விளக்க வேண்டும். இது எதுவுமே தெரியாமல் சேற்றை வாரி தூற்றுவது சரியல்ல.

[Mohamed Nowsath @Md_Nowsath_]

Tamils should come out of utilitarian mindset and aim for high culture. Embrace aesthetics, quality in Art, architecture, cleanliness, civic sense, Urbanism, literature and cinema..etc

[FunDuhMental @cop_ascetic]

Same

[Vikram Chandrashekar @Vikrchan]

A Cold Storage of Hope

The Indian fridge is not an appliance but an ecosystem. A living, breathing archive of culinary optimism, forgetfulness and occasional bravery. Every once in a while it begins with great hope. Fresh vegetables are placed neatly, milk packets stand upright with purpose, leftovers are carefully stored in steel dabbas, and someone confidently declares, “We will be organised going forward”. Just a matter of time, however, the fridge begins to resemble an archaeological dig where every shelf represents different eras of cooking.
Let us begin with the curd, which perhaps has the most fascinating life cycle inside the Indian refrigerator. Day one curd is fresh, creamy and optimistic. It sits proudly waiting to meet rice, maybe even a little salt and pickle. Day-two curd becomes slightly sour but still respectable. This is the stage where someone nods wisely and says, “Perfect for curd rice.” Day-three curd begins to develop character. Someone opens the lid, sniffs cautiously, tilts the head slightly and asks the eternal household question: “Still okay no?” , “Yes,Maybe we can use it for rave idli or majjige huli on the weekend“ . The teenager rolls his eyes. By day four the curd has crossed into what can only be described as weaponised dairy. Even the fridge light seems reluctant to illuminate it fully. But no one throws it away immediately. It remains there for a few more days.

Then come the vegetables, which enter the fridge like enthusiastic new employees and slowly lose motivation. The curry leaves are the first to suffer. On day one they are green and fragrant. By day five they resemble the wrinkled skin of an eighty yearold grandfather, folded and questioning their life choices. The carrots, once crisp and proud, now lie limp and philosophical. Not even a stick could motivate them again. Even the most determined cook looks at them, sighs softly and closes the vegetable drawer.
Somewhere in one corner sits the brinjal. Nobody remembers buying it. Nobody admits responsibility. Yet it sits there quietly, slowly transforming into something that looks suspiciously like a small dead rat wearing purple clothes. Each time the tray opens someone notices it and says, “We should use this tomorrow,” which of course means it will remain there for another four days. The coriander looks like stiff dry curly hair. It turns from lush green to dark, the humour is on us.

The teenagers, on the other hand, treats the fridge like a hunting ground. Around 11:30 pm the door opens slowly. A thoughtful stare follows, as if expecting the fridge to magically produce pizza. The teenager surveys the shelves: leftover dishes, curd of uncertain age, three philosophical lemons and the brinjal that now clearly resembles wildlife. Nothing seems appealing. The door closes. Two minutes later it opens again, just in case something improved during that time. The chocolate that was there last night has been consumed by the “sweet bitter” parents.
And then there is the ice tray that came with the fridge. It has lived there for years without meaningful employment. Occasionally someone fills it halfway with water, forgets about it, and later discovers cubes shaped like small glaciers.
The greatest mystery of the Indian fridge, however, is space. It does not matter whether the fridge is small, large or one of those giant double-door models or something of industrial scale that look like they belong in a hotel buffet. Within days there is absolutely no room left. Certainly not for noble things like cold beer or good 85 percent dark chocolate. Instead the shelves are packed with bowls of unfinished palya, mysterious dabbas from unknown days and people, curd in multiple stages of danger, vegetables in emotional decline, a brinjal approaching rodent status, and fingerprints from the teenagers visits.

Yet every evening someone opens this packed fridge, stares inside for a full thirty seconds and announces with total conviction:
“There is nothing to eat in this house.”

Just pack the fridge with dark chocolate and beer . The world will be a better place ..