Old Airport Road is already choking under underpass construction. Today, traffic was completely halted for nearly 30 minutes due to the Governor’s movement. A man carrying his pregnant wife was stuck in the gridlock. When will public convenience matter as much as VIP convenience?
indian journalists are so funny man. duniya bhar ki accountability ek 19 saal ke bacche se chahiye lekin sarkaar se do sawal poochne mein rooh kaamp jaati hai inki
Once you visit small countries like Sri Lanka, Thailand, or Vietnam, or cities like Dubai for the first time and then come back to Indian streets, you realize how much you’ve been scammed by your municipality, local MLA, MP, and the whole system.
Hay @UltrahumanHQ I want to return my ring for the third time. I have your product a try. It doesn't work. I'm waiting for a support team reach out please.
@UltrahumanHQ Twitter has made it impossible for me to send you a DM without paying, just please check the ticket raised with the customer name of Priya Poddar for ring air
Your romantic partner is the single highest-dose pharmacological input in your daily environment. Bryan Johnson frames this as poetry. The data is more violent than that.
The Harvard Study of Adult Development tracked people for over 80 years. Relationship quality at age 50 predicted physical health at age 80 better than cholesterol, income, or career success. The mechanism is a specific neuroendocrine cascade. A supportive partner triggers oxytocin release, which suppresses cortisol, downregulates HPA axis activation, reduces systemic inflammation, and slows telomere attrition. Your cells literally divide longer before hitting senescence. The person sleeping next to you is either extending or compressing your biological clock at the chromosomal level, every single night.
Now run the numbers on the poison side. Married adults in one sample had a telomere T/S ratio of 1.70. Unmarried adults: 1.58. That gap held after controlling for diet, exercise, smoking, obesity, and social support. Divorced men in a Swedish cohort showed 46% higher relative mortality risk. A separate study of 3,526 adults found marital disruption was associated with shorter telomere length even after adjusting for neuroticism and lifetime traumatic events. The inflammatory profile of a high-conflict marriage looks nearly identical to the biomarker signature of chronic work stress or long-term caregiving burden.
This is the part people miss. Bryan said “somewhere between medicine and poison.” The pharmacology is more binary than that. Oxytocin from a quality partnership lowers blood pressure, reduces sympathetic nervous system activation, and improves immune surveillance. Chronic cortisol from a bad one drives the same oxidative damage to telomere cap structures that accelerates every major age-related disease. There is no neutral. The dose is always running.
A 2003 study found that more frequent partner hugs correlated directly with lower resting blood pressure and heart rate. The cardiovascular system responds to your primary attachment bond the way a tissue responds to a drug. Dose, frequency, duration.
“Medicine and poison” is the right frame. But Bryan undersold the dosage. This is the single largest uncontrolled variable in every longevity protocol on Earth, and almost nobody is tracking it.
"India is a failed nation." 🚨🇮🇳
"We clean the toilet in their house, but they do not even give us drinking water."
Supreme Court has banned manual scavenging, but in reality, cleaners in India are forced to clean sewers with their bare hands. THIS IS OUR ACHIEVEMENT.
“I don’t understand why women don’t just report it if it really happened.”
When I was 19, I reported mine. I had bruises. Hospital photos. Text messages of him apologizing the next morning. My friends drove me to the station because I could barely stop shaking. I thought evidence would make it simple. I thought truth would be enough.
Months later, I was the one on trial. His lawyer printed my Instagram photos and held them up in court. Asked why I wore crop tops. Asked why I drank that night. Asked why I didn’t scream louder. He replayed my police interview and pointed out every time I hesitated, every time I cried, every time my timeline wasn’t perfectly linear. “If it was traumatic,” he said, “why can’t she remember clearly?”
Sitting there while strangers debated my pain like it was a group project felt like being stripped again. My messages were projected on a screen. My body was described in detail. My character was picked apart like that was the real crime.
He walked out on bail. I walked out with panic attacks.
That’s why some women don’t report. Because even with bruises. Even with screenshots. Even when you do everything “right.” You still have to survive the assault twice, once in private, and once in public, just to maybe be believed.