From the Editor's Desk In my early twenties, I fell headfirst into what I thought would be a grand love affair with academic philosophy. With starry eyes and a mind parched for meaning, I eagerly dove into a bachelor’s degree, sampling courses on the philosophy of religion, language, and South Asia. I naively envisioned professors as wise sages who would illuminate life’s thorny questions of identity, purpose, and meaning. Instead, my romantic notions smashed against the cold, hard reality of professors droning from papers and skimming the edges of my deepest existential yearnings. They delivered knowledge, yes — but wisdom? That precious spark was nowhere to be found. Disillusioned and aching, I abandoned my studies after just three months. |
Wednesday 15th January 2025
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