An Open Letter to the Jantar Mantar protestors:
My dear young friends,
I address you today not as a politician or an MP, but as someone deeply troubled by what is happening to your generation of young Indians.
This is personal for me. I was born to a middle-class family: my father was a salaried newspaper employee, my mother a homemaker, with three children to educate on one income. For a family like ours, merit was not a slogan. Scholarships, fair examinations, honest results — these were the only way one salary could carry three children's dreams.
I went to school in Mumbai and Kolkata, to college here in Delhi, topped the University and earned admission into IIM — and chose instead to follow my passion for international affairs, in America, on a scholarship. Nothing was inherited; everything was earned by hard work and yes, Exams.
So I know that a fair, merit-based system is the only ladder for young people from lower and middle-income families to climb up. When that ladder is broken — papers leaked, examinations cancelled, trust destroyed — the children of the rich and powerful do not suffer. They have other ladders. It is your dreams, and your families' sacrifices (and tragically, in some homes, young lives themselves) that are betrayed.
To the young people gathered at Jantar Mantar, and those raising your voices peacefully across India: this country hears you. Your anger is not indiscipline — it is the anguish of a generation that did everything right and was still betrayed . You are not alone.
And to the millions of young Indians watching quietly: your generation is not a problem to be managed. You are the answer to India's future. Do not lose hope. This ladder will be rebuilt — by you, and by every Indian who stands with you.
To Shri Sonam Wangchuk-ji, my heartfelt appeal: please end your fast. You have awakened the conscience of the nation; that is what a fast is meant to do. India needs your voice for the long road ahead.
With Parliament in session again from Monday, we will have an opportunity to raise the students’ issues in the highest forum of our democracy. That’s where the problem should be addressed, not by fasting unto death. Please heed my plea.
And finally, to the Government: I respectfully urge you to reach out and engage in the dialogue our democracy owes its young citizens. That is not weakness; that is statesmanship.
Dostoevsky; “People don't want truth, they want comfort dressed as truth.”
Franz Kafka; “Reality is too heavy for most people to carry. So they borrow illusions, soft dreams, sweet lies, and call it happiness.”
“My name is Elena. I’m 71, and I cut hair in my garage. Twenty-five dollars, cash only, no appointments. You just show up, sit in the vintage hydraulic chair I saved from my old shop, and let me help you look human again.
I spent nearly half a century at a high-end downtown salon before my hands started developing a tremor—nothing major, but enough to end the days of hundred-dollar precision layers. Now, I do simple, honest trims in my driveway under a sign that says "Elena’s Community Cuts."
Most folks come because they’re struggling financially. That’s fine; I keep the prices low on purpose. But Miguel came because he had reached the end of his rope.
He showed up on a Tuesday morning—maybe 48 years old, weeks of stubble, hair matted and hanging past his shoulders. He looked like he’d been living out of his car.
"How much to make me look like someone worth hiring?" he asked.
I saw his hands trembling. I saw the crushing shame in the way he avoided my gaze. "Sit down," I told him. I didn't mention the price.
I worked for over an hour. I cut, shaped, and refined his beard. When I finally spun him toward the mirror, he stared at his reflection for a long, silent minute. "I forgot," he whispered. "I forgot I was still in there."
He pulled out nine dollars in crumpled singles. "It's all I’ve got. I’ll bring the rest when I can."
"That’s the exact price today," I lied. "Tuesday special."
He knew. He started crying—not just a sniffle, but the kind of deep, gut-wrenching sob that comes from a person who hasn't felt seen in years. "I have a job interview Thursday," he said. "The first one in a year. I’d stopped trying because I looked like… well, like I’d already lost. You just gave me a fighting chance."
The New Sign
After he left, I sat in my garage and thought about how many people stop trying simply because they can’t afford to look like they’re trying. So, I put up a new sign: "Job Interview Cuts – Free. No Exceptions."
Word traveled to places I’d never visited: shelters, unemployment offices, and recovery centers. People started appearing. Young, old, men, and women—all with that same "lost" look Miguel had carried.
I work six days a week now. Some people pay the twenty-five dollars; some pay more. But the interview cuts? Those are always free.
A woman named Sandra came by once. She was a single mother of three, interviewing for a position at a credit union. Her friend had tried to trim her hair with kitchen shears because a salon was out of the question. I fixed it. I gave her a look that screamed professional and confident. She got the job. Two months later, she came back and handed me sixty dollars. "For the next few people," she said.
The Return of Miguel
But the moment that truly stayed with me was when Miguel returned a year later. He pulled up in a clean sedan, wearing a sharp suit and a fresh haircut.
"I’m the floor supervisor now," he told me. "At the logistics firm where I interviewed. I bring people here now—guys from the temp agency who are working hard but look rough. I tell them Elena’s got their back."
He handed me a four-hundred-dollar check. "I’ve kept track. You’ve cut hair for sixteen people I’ve sent your way. This is for them, and whoever comes next."
The Lesson: Giving Back the Mirror
We’ve performed over 400 interview cuts in the last two years. Local barbers even come to volunteer on their days off. Last month, a man got hired at a prestigious firm. His new boss told him he was hired because "anyone who keeps their dignity after hitting rock bottom is an asset."
But it was the haircut that got him through the door.
I’m 71. My hands shake sometimes. My garage smells like rosemary shampoo and old concrete. But I’ve learned this: when life falls apart, people don't just lose their income. They lose the mirror. They lose the version of themselves that belongs in a room where their future is decided.“
Ai image is for demonstration purpose only.
INDIA’S DAUGHTERS!!!
She was raped by a BJP MLA!
She had to attempt suicide in front of the CM’s house for an FIR to be filed!
Her father was ‘murdered’ in the police station. The witness to her father’s custodial death was also killed.
Both her aunts were killed in a ‘road accident’!
She had to fight for basic justice. Her perpetrator was stripped off the title but he still wields power.
Yesterday, the honourable Delhi Court granted bail to Kuldeep Sengar because his appeal is pending in court!
The Unnao victim protests on the road and the entire government machinery drags her away!
She was a minor. A child. Who lost everything in this fight.
In this great country - there are a million rules as to what a girl should wear or do! The entire country’s respect lies on the shoulders of a woman/ a girl/ a female. The length of your dress can be dangerous to your religion.
You will be called Adi Parashakti but you will be dragged away like garbage when you protest against injustice, you will be murdered, your family will be wiped out.
You will be treated as an Adi Parashakti till you stay in the line drawn by the society - quiet without protest, without a fight, without a thought!
Unnao victim isn’t the first, she won’t be the last.
India’s Daughters 🙏🏽
#Unnao
You may recognise actor Sharib Hashmi as JK from The Family Man, the steady presence beside Srikant on screen. In real life, that steadiness comes from his wife, Nasreen Hashmi.
For nearly three decades, Nasreen has been Sharib’s anchor. A four-time cancer survivor, she has stood beside him through every turning point, from leaving a stable job to pursue acting to navigating years of financial uncertainty.
When life tested them again and Nasreen was diagnosed with oral cancer, Sharib stayed by her side through every stage of the battle, sharing her pain and supporting her through recovery.
Today, even after acclaimed roles and national recognition, Sharib still turns to Nasreen on difficult days. She remains his source of strength, courage, and calm.
Spanning over 30 years, their partnership reflects commitment built on trust, resilience, and standing together through every season of life.
@sharibhashmi
#CoupleGoals #SharibHashmi #FamilyMan
[Sharib Hashmi, The Family Man Actor, Couple Goals, Indian Couples, Nasreen Hashmi]
Since the @BiharPoliceCGRC will not attack this paedophile teen sex pest use SM to make his face viral. India should protect their vulnerable girls from this sick pervert
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