Wednesday Edition

Along the sacred riverfront of Varanasi, amidst the eighty-four ghats that form the spiritual artery of the city, stands a structure of profound and perplexing beauty: the Ratneshwar Mahadev Temple. Located at the edge of the famed Manikarnika Ghat, the temple presents a dramatic spectacle. It leans at a severe nine-degree angle, its stone spire tilting precariously towards the northwest, and for most of the year, its sanctum sanctorum lies submerged beneath the holy waters of the Ganga.1 This haunting image of a half-drowned, leaning tower has made it one of the most photographed, yet least understood, landmarks in this ancient city.

Dwarka: The City of Many Layers

At the westernmost tip of India’s Saurashtra peninsula, where the Gomti River meets the Arabian Sea, lies the city of Dwarka. Here, the air is thick with the scent of salt and incense, and the sound of temple bells from the towering Dwarkadhish Temple blends with the ceaseless roar of the ocean. Dwarka is more than a geographical location; it is a concept, a sacred space where the divine is believed to have once walked the earth, a glorious kingdom lost to the waves, and today, a living, breathing centre of faith that draws millions of pilgrims.

Anime Scenery Art: More Than Just a Background

Consider the sun-drenched, cloud-dappled rural town of Itomori from Makoto Shinkai’s Your Name, a place so vividly rendered that its nostalgic ache feels like a personal memory. Or recall the first glimpse of the mysterious, lantern-lit spirit world in Hayao Miyazaki’s Spirited Away, a landscape brimming with both wonder and unsettling danger. These are not mere backdrops; they are worlds, meticulously crafted and emotionally charged. In the realm of Japanese animation, or anime, the scenery is far more than a stage for the characters. It is a living, breathing entity, a silent narrator that speaks volumes through light, colour, and detail. The creation of these environments is an act of painstaking dedication, where every shadow, every lens flare, and every crack in the pavement is deliberately produced to tell a story.

In the quiet ponds and slow-moving streams of Asia, the lotus plant, Nelumbo nucifera, performs a daily miracle. Rooted in mud, it sends a stalk upward through murky water to unfold its pristine petals in the sun, a potent and enduring symbol of purity, resilience, and enlightenment. For millennia, this journey has captivated philosophers, poets, and spiritual leaders. Today, it inspires a unique and tangible art form that bridges the natural world with human creativity: Lotus Leaf Art. This practice transforms the plant’s delicate, ephemeral leaves into lasting works of art, capturing the profound cultural reverence for the lotus in a medium that is both ancient in spirit and strikingly contemporary in its appeal.

The End of the Weekend as We Know It?

For nearly a century, the rhythm of modern professional life has been dictated by a simple, unyielding structure: the five-day, 40-hour work week. It is a framework so deeply embedded in our culture that it has shaped everything from urban planning to family life. Yet, this long-standing convention was not the product of a scientific discovery about peak human performance; it was a socio-economic compromise born from the industrial age. Today, its foundations are being shaken by a confluence of technological advancement, a widespread crisis of employee burnout, and a profound societal re-evaluation of the relationship between work and life.

On the wrist of a bride, they are circles of joy, shimmering with colour and light. In the grand hall of a palace, a chandelier descends like a frozen waterfall of crystal, a testament to exquisite artistry. This is the luminous world of Firozabad glass—a world of delicate beauty, vibrant hues, and timeless tradition. For centuries, this city in Uttar Pradesh, located just 40 kilometres from Agra, has been India’s undisputed capital of glass, its name synonymous with the bangles that adorn millions and the intricate glassware that graces homes across the globe. It is affectionately known as the Suhag Nagri, the city that fulfils the demands of married women, and the city that has “glittered for centuries”.