Resilient Reflections

  It was in a quiet conversation with my teenage son—his eyes full of vision and questions—that I felt the sharp contrast between what education is supposed to be, and what it too often becomes. I admire his clarity, curiosity, and courage. But I also see how the system quietly begins to tether those very qualities the moment it introduces structure. Education, originally intended to liberate, somehow ends up tying us to a path—of jobs, money, identity, even self-worth. And the irony is cruel: those who “succeed” in it often lose their wildness, their humility, their peace. Studying vs. Being Educated We live in a world where studying is often mistaken for education. People memorize, pass exams, collect degrees — but remain trapped in the same patterns of thought. Studying is like AI running on old data. No new inputs. No evolution. Just recycling the same knowledge until it becomes obsolete — a slow intellectual death. Education, on the other hand, is alive. It questions, ...

  “Ahmed… Fathima…” The stretched voice of a mother drifted in from somewhere behind me, cutting gently through the sound of waves and my silent thoughts. I looked up from where I sat on the beach, toes buried in warm sand, heart somewhere else entirely. In front of me, four children were playing—a delightful chaos of laughter, sand fights, and tiny feet racing the waves. Two of the kids—both dusky, bright-eyed—looked up and ran toward the voice without resistance. A few seconds passed before another voice, softer but certain, called out: “Sai…” And the third child, who had been digging deep into the shore with his tiny hands, paused, stood up, and ran back to his family. Now, only one child remained—a small, fair-skinned boy with messy blonde curls, likely Russian. He was still giggling to himself, stacking sand like it was treasure, unfazed by the absence of the others. And as I watched them, something inside me paused—really paused. These children didn’t know each other’s...