Hey. Can someone pls share any consolidated material of Mnemonics and Tricks with me.
Especially this one: 250+ Tricks & Mnemonics for IAS Prelims (5th Edition) | Dr. Gaurav J. Sontake | 2026
//𝙔𝙚𝙡𝙙𝙖: dark night
She's a sinner, and she's a saint.
She's the dark hole in my mind and she's the moon to my dark night.
And every night I look at her with my silent eyes and asks her-
"Is one moon (you)
enough to slice open
the door of someone's (my) soul and enlighten the patchy
corners of the fist inside their (my) chest?"
She ignores my question
the same way I ignore the
stars in the sky.
I keep staring at her from the
distance, and the longer I look into her eyes,
the faster I begin
to realise that she's
like a glimmer of hope
amidst the apocalypse
going on in the minds of people, yet her hopes
to the world is limited as
she doesn't shine as
bright as the stars in the
dark sky and
she can't let herself fall for
others like the shooting stars
in order to fulfill their wishes,
for she isn't a wish-granting-well
in an abandoned village, however,
you call her that little
grass which grows on the
sidewalk of the landfills.
She's the one who wears the
darkness of her own demons as a permanent glittery tattoo underneath
the cloth upon her chest, that's a place where none
can listen to the beats of her
hollowed heart and none can
witness the horns which she wears upon the head of her heart.
"Dark light" is the synonym for the word "hope" in her dictionary.
She's the moon, and
she's the "𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙪𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙮𝙚𝙡𝙙𝙖,"
her light is the dark-side of the moon while
her darkness is the bright-side of the sun.
She's a saint, and she's a sinner, and in the
words of Hozier-"𝙎𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙛𝙪𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡" and today, when
I met her in the graveyard I again asked her the same question- "Is one moon (you) enough to deal with someone's (my) trouble?"
And she smiled back at me
for the first time with a silent assurance-"𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧. 𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙖 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧."
Originally written on: 19 April 2021
//𝙔𝙚𝙡𝙙𝙖: dark night
She's a sinner, and she's a saint.
She's the dark hole in my mind and she's the moon to my dark night.
And every night I look at her with my silent eyes and asks her-
"Is one moon (you)
enough to slice open
the door of someone's (my) soul and enlighten the patchy
corners of the fist inside their (my) chest?"
She ignores my question
the same way I ignore the
stars in the sky.
I keep staring at her from the
distance, and the longer I look into her eyes,
the faster I begin
to realise that she's
like a glimmer of hope
amidst the apocalypse
going on in the minds of people, yet her hopes
to the world is limited as
she doesn't shine as
bright as the stars in the
dark sky and
she can't let herself fall for
others like the shooting stars
in order to fulfill their wishes,
for she isn't a wish-granting-well
in an abandoned village, however,
you call her that little
grass which grows on the
sidewalk of the landfills.
She's the one who wears the
darkness of her own demons as a permanent glittery tattoo underneath
the cloth upon her chest, that's a place where none
can listen to the beats of her
hollowed heart and none can
witness the horns which she wears upon the head of her heart.
"Dark light" is the synonym for the word "hope" in her dictionary.
She's the moon, and
she's the "𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙪𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙮𝙚𝙡𝙙𝙖,"
her light is the dark-side of the moon while
her darkness is the bright-side of the sun.
She's a saint, and she's a sinner, and in the
words of Hozier-"𝙎𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙛𝙪𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡" and today, when
I met her in the graveyard I again asked her the same question- "Is one moon (you) enough to deal with someone's (my) trouble?"
And she smiled back at me
for the first time with a silent assurance-"𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧. 𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙖 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧."
Originally written on: 19 April 2021
//𝙔𝙚𝙡𝙙𝙖: dark night
She's a sinner, and she's a saint.
She's the dark hole in my mind and she's the moon to my dark night.
And every night I look at her with my silent eyes and asks her-
"Is one moon (you)
enough to slice open
the door of someone's (my) soul and enlighten the patchy
corners of the fist inside their (my) chest?"
She ignores my question
the same way I ignore the
stars in the sky.
I keep staring at her from the
distance, and the longer I look into her eyes,
the faster I begin
to realise that she's
like a glimmer of hope
amidst the apocalypse
going on in the minds of people, yet her hopes
to the world is limited as
she doesn't shine as
bright as the stars in the
dark sky and
she can't let herself fall for
others like the shooting stars
in order to fulfill their wishes,
for she isn't a wish-granting-well
in an abandoned village, however,
you call her that little
grass which grows on the
sidewalk of the landfills.
She's the one who wears the
darkness of her own demons as a permanent glittery tattoo underneath
the cloth upon her chest, that's a place where none
can listen to the beats of her
hollowed heart and none can
witness the horns which she wears upon the head of her heart.
"Dark light" is the synonym for the word "hope" in her dictionary.
She's the moon, and
she's the "𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙪𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙮𝙚𝙡𝙙𝙖,"
her light is the dark-side of the moon while
her darkness is the bright-side of the sun.
She's a saint, and she's a sinner, and in the
words of Hozier-"𝙎𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙛𝙪𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡" and today, when
I met her in the graveyard I again asked her the same question- "Is one moon (you) enough to deal with someone's (my) trouble?"
And she smiled back at me
for the first time with a silent assurance-"𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧. 𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙖 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧."
Originally written on: 19 April 2021
Hey, can anyone share info about any group wherein I can find the latest openings.
my_qualifications: M.A. in Political Science (final semester) and JRF
3 teeth are not there due to the cavity, which requires an implant. Is it an issue?
For- IB ACIO MEDICAL