414 people dead, mostly women and children—reads the headline. As I sit in the office pantry, slicing through a watermelon to prepare iftar for myself and those fasting during the sacred month of Ramadan, this notification flashes across my mobile screen. My hands froze for a moment, the red juices from the watermelon slipped off the edge of the knife, pooling like silent tears.

Strolling through the pulsating heart of New Friends Colony, I clutched my camera, a sentinel of untold narratives. The pathway beside the opulent Surya Hotel was flanked by cars, their polished exteriors mirroring the warm glow of the streetlights. Laughter and fragmented conversations mingled with the sweet fragrance of flowers sold by street vendors, crafting a harmonious montage of life. …

"Thank you," he whispered, though he wasn’t quite sure why. Perhaps because words felt inadequate in the face of a moment so profound, so perfect. This—right here—seemed to encapsulate everything life was supposed to be. The ripples of the infinite sea danced and splashed against the shore, each wave a tender kiss upon the earth. Above, the sun, in all its fading glory, cast a golden hue over the cityscape, where people walked hand in hand, their emotions as vivid as the fiery sky.

Within the ripples and waves, I see not just my visage, But a web of life’s essence—both tender and savage. Trauma’s early touch—scarred yet shaped my soul. I witnessed life’s theatre, each role-playing its toll. From the shadows of loss to the valleys of despair, I've trudged, with burdens laying bare. Seen death's quiet arrival and life’s fervent embrace, Watched marriages bloom and dissolve without a trace.

Dong Jun replaces Li Shangfu, who was last seen in public in August.

The states' rulings could have implications for his 2024 bid, but the Supreme Court is expected to weigh in.

When it's Christmas we're all of us magi.