BLOG BY MEHKAN

Everyone seems to be posting online these days. Reels, stories, photos, videos—people share everything from breakfast to deep thoughts. You might think: Don't they have jobs, studies, or real life to handle? Why flood the internet with so much? You already see the good side: helpful education videos that teach skills, fun entertainment that brightens a bad day, honest stories that make you feel less alone. That's real value. But a lot of content feels like trash—low-effort copies, clickbait titles, pointless rants. It buries the good stuff and turns feeds into noise. And yes, it piles up in data centers like digital garbage, burning electricity, wasting water for cooling, and adding to the planet's load. Servers run non-stop, fans roar, power plants work harder. All for posts that vanish in seconds. Why is this happening now? The tools are free and easy. A phone in your pocket lets anyone record, edit, and post in minutes. No big cameras or studios needed. Platforms pay thr...

There are moments in life when you pray like your life depends on it. You beg. You cry. You promise God you’ll become a saint (for at least 3 working days). And still… nothing happens. No miracle. No sign. No “Congratulations, your wish has been approved.” Just silence. And you sit there like a rejected job applicant thinking: “God… did you even see my application?” But later, when life unfolds, you realise something shocking: God didn’t ignore you. God protected you. Sometimes, God saves you… by not giving you what you want. The Blessing of a Closed Door We often think blessings look like yes. But many times, blessings look like: rejection delay heartbreak cancellation disappointment unanswered prayers As the saying goes: “Not everything you lose is a loss.” And honestly, some things you didn’t get were not failures… they were rescues. Because if God gave us everything we wanted, half of us would be living in chaos with a smile and a bad decision. When You Wanted It… But It Wasn’t Goo...

 In the silent hours when the world scrolls endlessly, a quiet rebellion brews among those chasing the sharpest edges of success. Top rankers —those who carve their names into the top percentiles of grueling competitive exams —often reach for a relic: the humble keypad phone . No glossy screen, no infinite feed , just buttons that demand deliberate presses and a battery that mocks the daily charge ritual. Why would someone wired for complex problems choose a device that can't even spell "motivation" without effort? Because the real enemy isn't the syllabus. It's the next ping, the next reel, the siren call that turns minutes into graveyards of wasted time. Picture the smartphone as a casino disguised as a companion—every swipe pulls a lever, every notification doles out tiny dopamine hits , rigged to keep you playing long after the jackpot has vanished. The keypad phone? It's a locked vault. Calls arrive. Texts crawl in slowly. Nothing else whispers for your ...