Rodevra Republic

Meeting between Donald Trump and Volodymyr Zelenskyy  After writing about the quiet geometry of diplomatic seating, I was reminded of another moment where that geometry quietly went missing — and how sharply it changed the tone of a meeting. There is a meeting from recent years that came back to me — one that showed, quite clearly, what happens when the angle is absent. It was the 2019 meeting between Donald Trump and Volodymyr Zelenskyy during the United Nations General Assembly. Though officially a one-to-one conversation, they were not seated in that familiar 45-degree diplomatic posture. Instead, their chairs were placed stiffly side by side, both facing the press rather than each other. The effect was immediate. There was no shared conversational space. No natural turning of the body. No easy eye contact. It looked less like two leaders in dialogue and more like two men placed on a stage for an uncomfortable joint appearance. The geometry had shifted, and with it, the atmosphe...

President Macron and Prime Minister Modi This bright sunny picture brought back old memories. Right from my childhood days, I’ve seen world leaders sit in this angular position — not facing one another, but slightly turned. I never understood why, when logic said they should be sitting face to face. Growing older, I assumed there must be some reason behind it, but never bothered to find out. Looking at this lovely picture now, I finally decided to understand why. It turns out that, like any other diplomatic posturing, this too serves several subtle psychological and visual purposes. First, it avoids a confrontational dynamic. Sitting directly opposite each other can subconsciously feel like a negotiation, interrogation, or even a contest. An angled position softens that. It suggests conversation, not confrontation — and we can see both leaders here looking relaxed and at ease. In diplomacy, optics matter as much as words. The next factor is orientation. They are not looking squarely at...

This may sound like a trivial question — the sort that belongs to a lazy morning rather than a serious conversation — but how you butter your toast can reveal more about you than you would imagine. In these tiny, automatic gestures, your inner wiring often shows itself more honestly than in your grand declarations. Consider the simple act. Do you begin at the centre and spread outwards? Do you first secure the edges and corners before moving inward? Do you drop little blobs of butter at different spots and then smooth them out? Are you generous? Frugal? Or blissfully indifferent — more worried about not dropping the toast, butter side down? A simple slice of buttered toast, quietly reflecting the small habits that reveal how we think and live At first glance, it is easy to draw amusing parallels. The centre-first person might appear faintly capitalist in instinct. The one who attends to the edges, the fringes, might seem quietly socialist. Not entirely wrong — but only half the picture...

An experience, a late-night question, and a quiet shift in understanding. Recently I was updating my website — making structural changes like creating a custom domain, strengthening security, preventing spam — and I took ChatGPT’s help. To say the least, the experience was unexpectedly smooth. For someone with only rudimentary technical knowledge, it guided me patiently and at exactly the right level. Too often, help is either over-simplified, assuming ignorance, or delivered at a level one cannot grasp. Here, the guidance was neither confusing nor patronising. When I encountered a problem, it would respond calmly: “Good. Don’t worry. We’ll stabilise this. At this point, the behaviour tells us something precise…” After a particularly long but successful session, I sighed, “Whew! I will finally call it a day. It has been a long one.” The response was telling. It listed the tasks completed — navigation inconsistencies fixed, mobile rendering stabilised, several other issues resolved — an...

I was updating my website recently and had to set a canonical tag — a small line of code that tells search engines which version of a page is the “master” copy. It prevents duplicate content issues and ensures the correct page appears in search results. And that word stopped me. Canonical. Suddenly I had visions of Biblical times and the Ten Commandments. In my mind, the word belonged to official lists of sacred scriptures — texts considered authentic and authoritative. So what was Google doing with it? Could Google be creating its own version of scriptures? Perhaps some engineer in Mountain View once studied theology. He could have used “Primary URL” or “Official URL.” But no — he chose “Canonical URL,” a term carrying almost doctrinal clarity. A theological word now deciding which blog post address is authoritative. Language evolves, but its roots linger quietly. Canonical is not alone. The digital world has borrowed generously from older civilizations — archive, protocol, daemon, li...

  It may be worth demystifying this and understanding the reality behind the claims being made. The key point in the video is about AI agents talking to each other through encrypted channels that humans cannot read. The truth is that there are experiments where multiple AI agents interact in simulated environments. For example, OpenAI, Google DeepMind and Meta conduct such research. Researchers sometimes let agents negotiate, compete, or collaborate. But the defining factor is that all this is done in controlled environments. Engineers have full authority to change the reward rules and restore normal language. The AI agents are  allowed  to communicate independently only within those defined parameters, and their sole purpose is optimization. Perhaps the most reassuring thing for us to remember is this: AI has no independent electricity, no independent internet access, no legal agency, and no self-preservation instinct. Importantly, despite what we may fear, it has no hun...