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I am looking for a woman mentor. Should have 15+ yoe in tech industry. Happy to pay for the time. If you know someone who can be a good mentor then please help me connect with them.

@ananyacodesigns Bangalore does make one feel terribly lonely. I shifted last May and am still trying to find my footing in the city.

anyone who lives in Bangalore and wants to become friends? The loneliness I experienced in the past 3 months is making me not wanna go back

What a mess we have made of the world. We should all be ashamed of ourselves.

"Empathy isn’t weakness. It’s not about letting people off the hook for their behavior and choices. It’s about understanding what led to those choices so you can decide how to respond from a place of authenticity."~ Emily Deschanel That's my queen right there

This is pro-life.

I just overheard a woman say "I'm not being mean. I'm just not actively making you comfortable." ... and I'll be using that line forever

Of course! Always.

A bus conductor in Karnataka told his driver: “Stop wherever Grade 10 students ask for a lift… they have board exams from the 18th.” “Even if we get late, it’s okay. Let’s help them.” He even urged other buses to follow the same. This shows the true heart of Karnataka State Transport — where duty meets humanity. ❤️

Anonymous I run a small bakery. Woman came in every Friday morning. Same order. Two blueberry muffins. One coffee. Always sat at the corner table. Read her book. Stayed an hour. Did this for three years. Then she stopped coming. After two months I got worried. Found her number in our loyalty program. Called. She answered. Voice weak. “Oh. Hi. I’ve been meaning to cancel that.” “Are you okay? You haven’t been in.” Long pause. “I have cancer. Stage four. I’m in hospice now. Those Friday mornings were my favorite part of the week. But I can’t make it anymore.” My heart broke. “What if I brought Friday to you?” Silence. Then crying. “You’d do that?” “Every Friday. Same time. Same order.” Showed up that Friday. She was in a hospital bed in her living room. So thin. But she smiled when she saw those muffins. We sat. She told me about her week. Her family. Her life. I listened. Just like at the bakery. Did this for six weeks. Every Friday. Last Friday she could barely stay awake. But she held that muffin. Took one bite. “Best thing I’ve tasted all week.” She passed on Monday. Her daughter called. “Mom’s last words were about you. She said ‘tell the baker thank you. Fridays kept me human until the end.’” Went to her funeral. Her daughter hugged me. “You gave her normal when everything else was hospitals and pain. You gave her Fridays.” Now I deliver to three hospice patients. Every Friday. Because sometimes a muffin isn’t just a muffin. It’s dignity. It’s routine. It’s proof that someone still sees you as you. Not as sick. Just as you.

hi, if you know a woman who can talk about female rage/rage in women in a fun way for a media interview, please tag them below. can be from the fields of psychology, entertainment or sociology. pls RT for reach!!

@solankineha Hi Neha! May I please know more about this initiative?

We have this program where we hire women who have taken a career break, offer them decent pay and good projects so they can learn..most leave within a year for better pkgs, so technically its a loss for the company..but when someone raised this issue, the european woman leading this initiative just said - “thats the whole point, they deserve to do better”..

@traumadumplingg Done! I hope you find a good opportunity!

@ajay_2512x Hello! Would love to be a part of this community!

I’m starting a community where we’ll share daily job postings, hackathons, and useful tech resources. If you’re interested in joining, let me know and I’ll add you. I’m not sharing a public invite link, so only people who genuinely want to be part of it will be added.

Imagine this life. Sold into slavery at 4. Escape from a factory at 10. Shot dead at 12. In the 2 years of freedom this little child had on earth his voice freed 3000 other children. What a bleak testament to humanity this story is. Child labour has to be one of the worst evils on this earth.

I spend much of each week writing about the horrors in the world, bearing witness, doing my small part to find a little beauty and truth. Tonight my 4yo asked me, "Daddy, can you stay close to me until I fall asleep?" "Of course," I said. "I'm right here. Are you scared about something?" "No. We came from the same star. I just want to remember that." This world is for the children, and we're just here to keep their magic unhurt. Because they know something that they're trying really hard to tell us. And they're the same everywhere. Everywhere.

NEVER UNDERESTIMATE ANYONE A woman in a cheap cotton dress and her husband in a humble suit got off the train in Boston and walked timidly (without an appointment) to the office of the secretary to the President of Harvard University. The secretary guessed at one point that those peasants who had come from the forests had no business at Harvard. "We would like to see the president," the man said gently. "He's busy," the secretary replied. "We'll wait," the woman replied. For hours the secretary ignored them, hoping the couple would finally lose heart and leave, but they didn't, and the secretary saw her frustration growing and finally decided to interrupt the president, even though it was a task she always avoided. "Perhaps if you talk to them for a few minutes they'll leave," the secretary said to the University President. He grimaced but agreed; someone of his stature obviously didn't have time to deal with people in cheap dresses and suits. Nevertheless, the president, frowning but with dignity, strode arrogantly toward the couple. The woman said to him: We had a son who attended Harvard for only one year. He loved Harvard and was happy here, but he died in an accident a year ago. My husband and I would like to erect something somewhere on campus in our son's memory. The president wasn't interested and said: - Ma'am, we can't put up a statue for every person who attends Harvard and dies; if we did, this place would look like a cemetery. "Oh no," the woman explained quickly: We don't want to erect a statue; we think we'd like to donate a building to Harvard. The president narrowed his eyes, glanced at the couple's dress and cheap suit, and then exclaimed: "A building! Do you have any idea how much a building costs? We've spent over $7.5 million on buildings here at Harvard!" For a moment the woman was silent, and the president was pleased because perhaps he could get rid of them now. The woman turned to her husband and said softly: *"Is it so little to start a university? Why don't we start our own?"* Then her husband agreed, and the president's face darkened with confusion and bewilderment. Mr. Leland Stanford and his wife stood up and left, traveling to Palo Alto, California, where they established the university that bears his name, Stanford University, in memory of a son whom Harvard hadn't taken an interest in. Leland Stanford Junior College was founded in 1891 in Palo Alto. It was named in honor of the deceased son of a wealthy landowner. That was his memorial, and today Stanford University is ranked number one in the world, ahead of Harvard. How easy it is to judge by appearances, and how easy it is to be wrong when... judging by appearances!!! Culled

@Indra_Calcutta @ankitagrawal87 Hello! Do you have any remote or Bangalore-based roles?

Alt News is hiring. If you want to contribute to a healthier information ecosystem and do journalism that fears or favours none, please apply.

@GurpriyaSidhu A good apology is an art…and unfortunately not many people have the skill. And nowadays it’s considered weak to accept one’s mistake and apologise for it. It’s sad cause it can fix so many many things if it’s genuine and followed through.

Someone I deeply respect and admire once apologised to me like this and it left a deep impression on me. For one, I was not expecting an apology because I didn't think anything worth apologising had happened. When they apologised, I felt it was less for me and more for them to set their internal standard right for who they are. My respect and admiration for them grew tenfold. What I realised is that generally it is the feeling of shame that prevents people from apologising. You have to learn to detach from shame. It takes a lot of self-love and self-assuredness to give a good apology.