Ravi Krishnan

Always at large

[Mukul Dekhane @dekhane_mukul]

*Why men prefer to watch football in pubs or cafes*

*Wife:* Where are you going?
*Husband:* Watch the game at the pub.
*Wife:* Why don't you watch it with me?
*Husband:* I want to watch it with my friends.
*Wife:* So I mean nothing to you?
*Husband:* OK, OK. I am staying.
*Wife:* Why is the goalkeeper in black?
*Husband:* He is mourning his mother.
*Wife:* The commentator how does he know all the names?
*Husband:* It's his job.
*Wife:* There's a goal.
*Husband:* No, it's an offside.
*Wife:* What is offside?
*Husband:* No, it's a goal. Just kidding.
*Wife:* OK, but what is offside?
*Husband:* Offside is the name of the Coach.
*Wife:* Where's the Coach?
*Husband:* He is off the field.
*Wife:* Why isn't he playing?
*Husband:* No, he doesn't play. He changes the players and the game tactics.
*Wife:* Tell me, is Maradona there?
*Husband:* No, he died.
*Wife:* Oh my God, how?
*Husband:* He watched a game with his wife

🤣😂🤣

[www.sidin.co @sidin]

Kerala was born to love Football.

Otherwise explain how Lamine Yamal is an anagram of “Malayali Men”.

[Ali Mehdi Sheikh @alidoc7]

Recently Dr Azra Raza held a beautiful evening with Sharmila Tagore at Azra Mahal, New York.

Tahira Syed Sahiba was there along with Manoj Bajpai, Rahul Chittela and others.

This is a small segment from the mehfil where Tahira Syed sang few verses from Abhi to mein jawan hun at the request of the host.

Dr Azra Raza is an oncologist, Professor of Medicine and Director of the Myelodysplastic Syndrome (MDS) Center at Columbia University in NY.

Urdu poetry is her passion. She is almost like a present day Zia Mohiuddin when it comes to narrating the classic Urdu poetry 🌺

Sharing some beautiful moments 🌹@AzraRazaMD @BajpayeeManoj @UrduVirsa @Rekhta @Sharmila_Tagore

#lifeisbeautiful #gratefulheart #urdupoetry #poetry #حافظ_صاحب_چھا_گئے

[🌸🎵 Beautiful Melody 🎶💖 @Ducnghia16]

She sang this song while going through her own divorce and you can feel her emotion in every word too. Phenomenal performance from an incredible singer !💓
💥ABBA - The Winner Takes It All (1980)

[Emotion & Music @Emotion78687]

This man is a legend. How could you not love this!?

[𝗔𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗮𝗿 𝗔𝗿𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗱 @anivar]

I write this as someone who was part of India’s DPI adversarial phase.

During the Firefox OS and early Rust years, I chaired Mozilla India’s policy and advocacy task force and worked closely with Mozilla’s global policy teams while Aadhaar, UPI, and net neutrality debates were unfolding.

[Aakash Gupta @aakashgupta]

The funniest satire of AI hype culture I’ve read this year.

[𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓴𝓪𝓻 @yansan]

During his struggling days, actor Al Pacino shared an apartment in the Bronx with another actor he fondly called "Marty" Martin Sheen. In his autobiography "Sonny Boy", Pacino writes about those early, uncertain years. Their apartment was a transient place,people came and went, and some even stayed over for a while. Among them was a girl - a musician,who was a friend of the girlfriend of another struggling actor. Pacino describes her as having "long dark hair and piercing eyes." She would occasionally drop by, sit cross-legged in a corner, and play her guitar. Pacino recalls, "She hadn’t linked up with Bob Dylan yet, but we knew Joan was going places." That girl with the piercing eyes was Joan Baez - the singer, the activist, the voice that would always stand with the downtrodden and the oppressed. Today is her birthday.
Happy Birthday Joan...

[Pankaj Parekh @DhanValue]

Incredible scenes at the Malaysia Masters! 🤯
Thinaah Muralitharan tossed her racket into the air for a breather, while Pearly Tan dropped to her knees after surviving an unbelievable 211-shot rally in women’s doubles.
What a rally. What fitness. What athleticism.
Pure endurance, sheer will, and nonstop action till the very last shot.
Enjoy this extraordinary 211-shot rally that had to end someday!

[Archaeo - Histories @archeohistories]

On the eve of execution, the condemned of Revolutionary France were often given paper, ink, and a few hours to say goodbye. No speeches were allowed. No appeals were heard. The blade would fall whether the words were written or not. And so bakers, seamstresses, priests, clerks, soldiers, and widows—people who had never imagined themselves part of history—sat in cold cells and tried to compress a lifetime into a page. Many began the same way: My dear wife, My beloved children, Forgive me. The Revolution that had promised liberty and equality now granted its final mercy only in ink.

I’ve read hundreds of these letters. What makes them so unsettling is how ordinary they are. There is no grand political philosophy, no defiant rhetoric. A father worries about debts and winter coats. A mother apologizes for leaving her children without guidance. A young woman asks that her hair be given to her sister.

One such woman was a Parisian seamstress in her early thirties, arrested after a neighbor denounced her for “lukewarm patriotism.” I don’t know why, but her case struck a chord with me. Her crime appeared to amount to little more than having regularly attended Mass and failing to denounce her brother quickly enough. The night before her execution, she wrote to her sister asking that her scissors be given to their youngest niece and that their mother be told she had died calmly.

Again and again, the writers insist on their innocence—not always of crimes, but of hatred. “I die without bitterness,” one wrote, “and I forgive those who send me to death.” The language is plain, domestic, and heartbreakingly human. The Terror did not slay monsters; but it did produce victims who sounded like us.

Many of the condemned had supported the Revolution at first. Some had cheered the fall of the Bastille. Others had denounced aristocrats, signed petitions, worn the cockade. But revolutions devour loyalty as easily as opposition. A careless remark, a past friendship, a failure to applaud loudly enough could be fatal. In the machinery of suspicion, innocence was not a defense—it was often a liability. As one prisoner wrote, “I do not know what crime I have committed, but I know I am to die for it.”

On execution mornings, carts rolled through Paris streets lined with spectators who had grown accustomed to death as public ritual. The letters were folded, sealed, and handed to jailers or priests, some of whom risked punishment to deliver them. Many never arrived. Others survived by chance, preserved in family trunks or police archives—small scraps of paper that outlived the so-called Republic of Virtue. The guillotine was efficient; memory was not meant to be.

These final letters endure because they expose the lie at the heart of revolutionary extremism: that abstract ideals can replace human bonds without cost. When politics demands total purity, ordinary life becomes treason. In the end, the French Revolution did not silence its victims with the blade alone. It silenced them by convincing enough of the nation that the individual did not matter. History’s task is to read their letters anyway.

#archaeohistories

[The Hawk Eye @thehawkeyex]

Why this song is hitting so hard❤️😄

Young talent Maan Panu is from Uttarakhand. The simplicity of this song resonates quickly with all age groups. Song name - I am done.

[Dr Poornima 🇮🇳 @PoornimaNimo]

Who is this teacher ???
I wish we had such teachers in our school.❤️

[nixCraft 🐧 @nixcraft]

Linus Torvalds & Bill Gates just met each other for the first time

[Mikku 🐼 @effucktivehumor]

Fxck Vijay Mallya and Raj Shamani! This is exactly the kind of podcast we want to watch!

Absolute cinema 😭🙏

[derek guy @dieworkwear]

My argument is simple: people who say they want to see a return of American manufacturing don't actually vote with their dollar. Let me show you. 🧵

[🎸 Rock History 🎸 @historyrock_]

Aretha Franklin’s performance at the 2015 Kennedy Center Honors is widely regarded as one of the best moments in the history of the event.

The occasion was to honor Carole King, the legendary songwriter and one of the co-writers of Aretha’s iconic hit “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman.”

Draped in a floor-length fur coat, Aretha took the stage and began with a subtle piano introduction, which immediately drew the audience into her world.

Her powerful voice and commanding presence filled the room, visibly moving everyone in attendance. Carole King, seated in the audience, was overwhelmed with emotion, cheering and holding her hands to her face in disbelief.

This unforgettable performance not only celebrated Carole King's compositions, but also reaffirmed Aretha Franklin's unparalleled ability to continue performing at 100% at age 73.

Aretha Franklin is one of the greatest female musicians of all time.

[Truth Alone 🇮🇳 @TruthAlone2]

Actor 'converted' politician Vijay held his debut political rally yesterday (27th Oct 2024 - Sunday) announcing his party's ideology.

Crowd turnout estimated around 2 to 4 lakhs approximately. As usual, paid reviewers like Panda prashanth & other Vijay supporters are saying this number is 10 lakhs crowd. This number estimation is nothing but similar to vijay movies Box office collections.

I am just trying to summarize in this🧵 my views about Vijay's speech and the reality of TN politics.
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[Yusuf Unjhawala 🇮🇳 @YusufDFI]

Analysts noticed that CCTV cameras in Taiwan and South Korea were digitally talking to crucial parts of the Indian power grid – for no apparent reason. On closer investigation, the strange conversation was the deliberately indirect route by which Chinese spies were interacting with malware they had previously buried deep inside the Indian power grid

https://t.co/qx3Eut9vLe

[Mukul Kesavan @mukulkesavan]

“Arati’s pivotal relationship in Mahanagar is not with her husband, her father-in-law or her pipe-smoking boss, though they get a lot of screen time. Her crucial connection, the one on which the film turns, is her brief friendship with Edith Simmons, her Anglo-Indian colleague.”