There was a time when love itself was rebellion. Falling in love meant defying the family. Challenging society. Whispered meetings, secret letters, stolen glances. The whole affair had the flavour of a Bollywood drama. As the old dialogue goes: “Pyar kiya to darna kya."

How long can Iran hold out? Fifteen days? A month? Or will it drag on for years, stretched in weary, laboured breaths?

One morning, the tap will open… and nothing will come out. No warning. No apology. Just a hollow cough of air. That day has a name. Day Zero. And, don’t be fooled; it isn’t a dystopian story anymore. It is quietly circling India.

The Supreme Court’s recent blunt reminder that rivers like the Yamuna are ‘national assets’ deserving protection should have shaken the political class awake. Instead, it merely restated what every citizen already sees: our rivers have been reduced to open sewers, their floodplains colonised, their beds choked with silt, and their waters poisoned by untreated waste. The court’s observations on the Yamuna could serve as a mirror for every major river in the country.

In the golden age of Bollywood, stars weren’t just actors; they were titans who towered over the silver screen, etching their personas into the nation’s collective memory.

The door is open. Inside, it is not a government that sits in power, but a screen. Place your finger, and you are identified. Click once, and your entitlement appears. Convenience is so smooth, questioning feels almost rude. Yet the real question refuses to go away. Who is in charge? The citizen, or the silent arithmetic of algorithms...