Thread & Thoughts

Prashant Kishor entered Bihar with the swagger of a man who had helped script the biggest victories of the decade — Modi’s 2014 wave, Nitish’s 2015 comeback, Mamata’s Bengal surge. But the moment he stopped whispering in the ears of powerful leaders and stepped onto the stage himself, the myth evaporated. Because Prashant Kishor the strategist and Prashant Kishor the politician are two entirely different realities — and Bihar exposed that difference with surgical brutality. 1. Great Strategist, Non-existent Politician As a consultant, PK is brilliant: he manipulates data, messaging, booth management, optics, media narrative — all from behind the curtain. But politics does not reward invisibility. It rewards charisma, emotional resonance, and ground loyalty — things he simply doesn’t have. You can design the circus tent. But stepping into the ring with the lions is a different game. 2. Strategy ≠ Mass Appeal Helping someone else win and convincing people to vote for you are unrelated sk...

In a courtroom wrapped in colonial decorum, where dissent is sterilized and truth must wear a necktie, a single shoe dared to interrupt order. A 71-year-old lawyer hurled his sneaker toward Chief Justice Gavai — and in that moment, democracy found its most honest footwear again. The incident was dismissed as contempt. But perhaps it was content. --- When the Sole Speaks Long before hashtags, the shoe spoke for the silenced. From Minto Park to Baghdad, from Chandni Chowk to Capitol Hill, the shoe has always been the subaltern’s microphone. In 1908, a revolutionary flung a sandal at a British officer. In 2008, an Iraqi journalist threw one at George W. Bush. In 2025, a lawyer at the Supreme Court simply joined a global legacy of soleful resistance. But here’s the irony — when the privileged throw books, it’s called debate. When the unprivileged throw shoes, it’s called disorder. --- The Colonized Courtroom The Supreme Court is less a temple of justice, and more a museum of obedience. Its...

I couldn’t help but wonder — when did our love lives start sounding like a mix of a tarot reading and a therapy meme page? Somewhere between “he’s just not ready” and “the universe is testing our connection”, we stopped dating and started decoding our trauma through moon phases and badly lit Instagram reels. --- In 2025, no one breaks up anymore. They just “surrender to divine timing.” Translation: He’s ghosting you, but politely — with incense burning. She’s not ignoring you; she’s “in her hermit phase.” He’s not cheating; he’s “navigating his twin flame confusion.” And that emotionally unavailable Delhi boy? He’s not toxic — he’s a Scorpio sun, babe. What did you expect, emotional regulation? --- We’re all out here acting like our dating life is a Netflix crossover between Euphoria and Indian Matchmaking  One minute we’re talking about “vibrations and energy exchange,” next minute we’re crying over a text that says “seen 2:07 AM.” It’s not a relationship, it’s a spiritual syllabu...

When the Archives of Sexual Behavior reported that Americans are having nine fewer rolls in the hay per year compared to the 1990s, I had to pause. Nine fewer? That’s not a dry spell — that’s a generational drought. If the ’90s were Friends, sex was always just one sarcastic quip away. Monica and Chandler could barely keep their clothes on between snark. Fast-forward to today, and the vibe is more Euphoria: glitter, angst, sexual expression everywhere… but somehow, far less actual penetration. Millennials, to be fair, weren’t exactly the sex gods of pop culture fantasy either. Despite being branded as Tinder’s “hookup generation,” the General Social Survey showed Millennials were having less sex than Gen X. We swiped, we sexted, we curated the perfect playlist — only to ghost each other before dessert. Then came Gen Z. The supposed chaos agents of hypersexual liberation. The Feeld/Kinsey Institute’s State of Dating report finds nearly half of Gen Z are single, compared to only a fifth ...

Once upon a time, your grandmother boiled ashwagandha in milk and forced it down your throat while you cried about the taste. Today, the same herb is sold to you in a neon-colored bottle by a man in an overpriced kurta who has a wellness podcast and thinks turmeric is his personal TED Talk. Welcome to the **health and wellness industry**, where ancient Indian wisdom is not just repackaged—it's shrink‑wrapped, sugar‑coated, and delivered in a subscription box for ₹1,499/month. Namaste, but make it ✨ VC-funded ✨. --- ##  The Ashwagandha Glow-Up Nobody Asked For** Ashwagandha used to taste like regret and discipline. Now? It's a mango-flavored gummy, "clinically studied," and endorsed by a man who looks like he hasn't had a single bad bowel movement since 2019. * **Old Ayurveda:** Take it seasonally, according to your dosha, in a ritual of balance. * **New Wellness:** Take two gummies before bed, preferably while doomscrolling, and post a story saying *“self-care mod...

*Maybe some women aren’t meant to be tamed. Maybe they just need to run free — until their ex stops projecting childhood trauma onto their love life.*  Okay, Carrie Bradshaw didn’t say that exactly, but she should have. We’re living in an era of emotional buzzwords, attachment styles, and men who call themselves “intuitively poly.” Welcome to the modern dating jungle, where relationships fall apart not over cheating, but because of *inner child work* and exes who treat tarot cards as accountability tools. 🃏 Remember when Charlotte asked,   **“Why do we keep going back to the wrong men?”**   Now the answer is:   Because they say things like, *“My inner child is scared of intimacy,”* right after dry-humping you to their playlist titled “Sacred Touch.” 🎶 He doesn’t want therapy. He wants you — his fifth situationship this year — to emotionally rehab him between orgasmic breathwork and frantic Mercury retrograde Google searches.   It’s not self...

Once upon a time, people broke up. Now, they “mutually fade.” No tears, no closure — just a gradual descent into double taps, dead air, and the quiet death of emotional responsibility. Because nothing says “I'm evolved” like emotionally vanishing while still sending memes. The Urban Liberal Breakup Starter Pack One soft-spoken text that says “I’m just processing a lot.” One last “Hope you’re well” message that no one replies to. Passive-aggressive story views for six months. And a shared Spotify playlist that now feels like a war crime. Breakups used to end with rage, regret, or a Ryan Gosling movie. Now they end with you pretending to be too busy healing to reply. Ghosting, But Make It Spiritually Justified Gone are the days when ghosting was rude. Now it’s intentional detachment. Why be honest when you can wrap avoidance in therapy-speak and call it “emotional boundaries”? “I didn’t ghost you, I just needed space to reconnect with my higher self.” Yo...