Naya Sandesh

One great saying  “The rich are just poor people with better lawyers.”

This old and famous story  Once in a small village, a Brahmin bought a fine goat for a feast. He slung it over his shoulder and started walking home, humming a mantra. On the way, three mischievous brothers spotted him. They decided to play a trick. The first brother approached and said, “Oh holy sir, why are you carrying a pig on your shoulders?” The Brahmin frowned. “Pig? This is a goat. Are you blind?” He walked on. A little farther, the second brother bowed respectfully and said, “Respected one, I am surprised to see a learned man carrying a pig like this.” The Brahmin’s step slowed. “Pig again? Hmm… perhaps this man is also blind.” When he had nearly reached the village, the third brother stopped him and whispered, “Oh noble Brahmin, why in the world are you carrying a pig on your shoulders? It is unclean!” Now the Brahmin’s confidence began to crumble. Could it be…? Have my eyes deceived me? Terrified that he might be carrying an unholy pig instead of a go...

Janai Purnima, also known as Raksha Bandhan in some regions, is a significant Hindu festival celebrated primarily in Nepal and parts of India on the full moon day of the Hindu month of Shrawan, which falls between July and August. The festival holds profound cultural, religious, and social importance. For males of certain castes, such as Brahmins and Chhetris, Janai Purnima is a time for the renewal of vows through the replacement of the sacred Janai thread, symbolizing a commitment to a virtuous and disciplined life. Devotees also engage in sacred baths in holy rivers or ponds, performing rituals to purify both their physical and spiritual bodies. The thread ceremony, known as Rakshya Bandhan, involves priests tying a protective thread around the wrists of men, women, and children, reciting mantras to ward off negative energies and misfortune. The festival is deeply rooted in Hindu mythology, with stories such as the legend of Vamana and Bali, where Lord Vishnu, in his Vamana avatar, ...

Threads Across Oceans In the quiet hum of an August morning, the sun rises over two worlds at once— Himalayan peaks, and city skylines that gleam like steel prayer wheels. A cotton thread, sacred and white, rests in my palm like a soft river of memory. Father’s voice recalls the old village temple, where priests chant in the incense-thick air, tying janai to shoulders like promises— to truth, to compassion, to the weight of vows carried through lifetimes. Here, halfway across the world, I wear mine too. Not by a rushing Nepali stream, but by a kitchen sink, the turmeric bowl glowing gold like Kathmandu dawn. Mother murmurs mantras she learned from her own mother, while the thread circles my arm— a bridge spun from devotion and diaspora. Somewhere in that thin strand, my heritage hums. It knots the mountains to the prairies, rice fields to asphalt streets, the Ganga’s myth to the Hudson’s flow. I walk into the day, the janai warm against my skin, a quiet...

  The chain of corruption is a systemic cycle where unethical practices become normalized and self-perpetuating within institutions. It often begins with those in power—politicians, bureaucrats, or business elites—who misuse their authority for personal gain. This creates a trickle-down effect: junior officials, contractors, and even ordinary citizens may feel compelled to engage in bribery, favoritism, or fraud just to survive or compete. As accountability weakens and corrupt actors protect one another through networks of loyalty or blackmail, the entire system becomes resistant to reform. Public resources are siphoned off, services deteriorate, and trust in governance collapses, trapping society in a vicious loop where corruption feeds on itself.

  I jingle my bangles when you pass by, Not just a little—I let them cry. I act all spoiled, shout with flair, Crash my bike just to make you stare. They mock my words, they don’t understand, So I reply with a twist, a sleight of hand. At home or on the street, my heart won’t rest, I strike back gently, a quiet protest. Your memory pulls, while laughter bites, When it gets too much, I rattle knives at night. Poem

   Ice Cream and Butterflies – A Fun First Date Once upon a sunny afternoon in the cheerful town of Jellybean Junction, two young kids—Maya and Leo—were about to go on their very first “kid date.” Maya wore her favorite sparkly shoes and a pink headband that bounced when she walked. Leo had on his coolest dinosaur T-shirt and spiky hair that stuck up like a cartoon porcupine. They were both a little nervous but super excited. Their plan? The Great First Date Adventure: ice cream, cartoons, and laughs! As they met at the town’s ice cream shop, “Scoopy Doopy’s,” Maya giggled. “You’re late!” she teased. Leo grinned, holding up two cones. “I had to pick the perfect flavors—Bubblegum Blaster and Rocket Raspberry!” They sat under a big rainbow umbrella and munched their drippy cones. Just then, Leo dropped a scoop… plop! right onto his shoe. “Oh no! Rocket Raspberry attack!” Maya laughed, and instead of being embarrassed, Leo made a silly face and shouted, “CALL THE I...