Riya, a small-time exporter of handwoven shawls, her stall a riot of colors. She’s been shipping her goods to the US for years, her modest business keeping her family afloat. But last month, her American buyer sent her a panicked email: “Riya, the new 25% US tariff is killing us. We might have to cut orders.” Her heart sank. That single email, a business hiccup rippling across the globe, one that could force India’s Reserve Bank (RBI) to rethink its playbook.

Shanghai, neon lights flickering, vendors hawking steaming baozi, and a young trader, Li Wei, hunched over his phone in a dimly lit café. He’s not checking WeChat or scrolling Douyin. He’s frantically trying to access his Binance account, his heart racing as rumors swirl, China’s cracking down on crypto, again. His life savings, tied up in Bitcoin and Ethereum, are at stake. This is a hammer on millions like Li Wei, caught in the crosshairs of Beijing’s latest crypto ban. But

you’re visiting a Himalayan village, the air sharp with the scent of pine, the peaks towering like sentinels. The monsoon arrives, promising life to the parched valleys and thirsty farms. But instead of renewal, the clouds unleash a deluge so fierce it rips homes from their foundations, buries roads under mud, and poisons the very water you drink. This is the grim reality of the Himalayas in 2025.

You’re scrolling YouTube for cat videos, Googling taco joints, maybe eyeing a spicy app on the Play Store. Then, bam, Google’s AI decides you’re 15. No more personalized ads, no Maps timeline, and YouTube nudges you to bed. Why? It’s snooping through your searches, views, and clicks to guess your age, and it’s already reshaping your digital world. Buckle up, because this is Google’s bold new move, and it’s got us on edge.

Imagine Seamus, farmer, standing in a pub in Galway, pint in hand, his weathered face creased with worry. He’s not alone. The room buzzes with murmurs, fishermen, teachers, shopkeepers, all sharing the same unease. They’re not anti-Europe, mind you. They love the idea of open borders, shared culture, the ease of a weekend in Paris. But something feels off. Decisions that shape their lives, on fishing quotas, farming subsidies, even how their children are educated, aren’t made

Cringe culture is a digital phenomenon where anything deemed awkward, earnest, or slightly off-trend is mocked mercilessly. Imagine posting a video of yourself dancing to a viral TikTok trend, only to be called out for “trying too hard.” Or sharing a heartfelt poem, only to have it dissected as “cheesy.”

Imagine waking up to a morning news, Taiwan, a vibrant democracy of 23 million, is cut off. Ships can’t dock, planes can’t land, and the global supply chain for semiconductors, the tiny chips powering your phone, car, and laptop, grinds to a halt. Markets crash, gas prices soar, and the world holds its breath as two nuclear powers, China and the United States, teeter on the edge of confrontation. This is a scenario that feels closer, with whispers of war growing louder.

A single letter from the White House lands like a grenade in the heart of global diplomacy. U.S. President Donald Trump, never one to shy from controversy, has penned a note to Gurpatwant Singh Pannun, the fiery leader of Sikhs for Justice (SFJ), a group India labels a terrorist outfit. Just weeks before a so-called “Khalistan referendum” in Washington, this letter is a jolt threatening to fracture the fragile U.S.-India alliance.

A Tale of Oil and Ambition Once, Pakistan and the United States were uneasy partners, tethered by Cold War politics and counterterrorism. In 2025, that bond has morphed into something colder, sharper, a transaction driven by America’s thirst for oil, minerals, and strategic leverage. President Donald Trump recently announced a blockbuster deal to develop Pakistan’s “massive oil reserves,” hinting at a future where Pakistan might even sell oil to India. But this isn’t a fairy

A world where the code that powers your favorite apps, solves complex math problems, and even automates your work is no longer locked behind corporate gates but freely available to anyone with a dream and a laptop. China, in a quiet, seismic shift, a Chinese startup named Z.ai has unleashed GLM-4.5, an open-source large language model (LLM) that’s sending shockwaves through the global AI community.