"If you have a laptop that takes longer to boot than it takes to make Maggi, or an old computer gathering dust in a corner... please don't throw it away just yet. It might mean more to someone than you think."

Hi everyone,

I've been thinking about writing this for a while.

My fascination with computers didn't begin because I wanted to play games or own the latest gadget.

It began in Class 2.

Every Saturday, our school took us to the computer lab. Since there weren't enough computers for everyone, we were made to sit in pairs and take turns using them.

When my turn came, the boy sitting next to me took the mouse from my hand and said,

«"Tumhare paas toh computer bhi nahi hai. Chalana aata hoga?"»

I don't know if he even remembers saying it.

But I do.

I was just a kid, yet that one sentence embarrassed me so much that I went home completely silent.

My mother noticed something was wrong. I told her I wanted a computer, but I never told her why.

The next day, she took me around the town to look for one.

The funny part is... neither of us knew where computers were even sold.

We walked into random offices asking employees where we could buy one and how much it would cost.

When one person told us the price, I looked at my mother's face.

I don't remember the number anymore.

I only remember her expression.

That's when I quietly understood that it wasn't something we could afford.

After that day, I never really insisted again.

Years passed.

Whenever I visited my friends' houses, I'd be fascinated by their computers. I'd ask if I could use them, but most of the time they were afraid I'd accidentally break something, so I would just watch from a distance.

Then one day, while wandering around a scrapyard like I often did, hoping to find something interesting, I found an old laptop.

I brought it home with almost no expectations.

After cleaning it up and fiddling with it for a while...

it actually turned on.

I still remember that moment.

I was literally crying.

It wasn't because I'd found an expensive laptop.

It was because, after all those years, I finally had a computer that was mine.

I decided I was going to turn it into a cyberdeck. I spent hours planning it, imagining what it would become.

But life had other plans.

My Class 12 boards were approaching, followed by JEE Main, so I packed everything away and focused on my exams.

After my Main exam, I came back home excited to continue the project.

I connected the power...

and the motherboard's matrix controller IC failed almost instantly.

Just like that, the laptop died.

The project I'd been dreaming about for months was over before it even began.

I won't lie.

I cried again.

I still prepared for JEE Advanced, but I couldn't qualify and eventually decided to take a drop year.

A few days ago, I was telling this whole story to one of my closest friends—the same friend I built little projects with.

After listening patiently, he said,

"Why don't you write to Framework? They believe in repairability. Maybe they'll understand your story."

I honestly don't know if anything will come of it.

Maybe nothing.

Maybe this post won't change anything either.

But I thought I'd share my story because there might be someone here who has an old laptop lying in a cupboard, a broken computer they never got around to fixing, or simply knows a place where old machines get a second chance instead of ending up as scrap.

I'm not looking for the latest hardware.

To me, even an old ThinkPad with missing keys or a desktop that barely boots isn't junk.

It's another chance to learn, build, repair, and maybe finally finish that cyberdeck I've been dreaming about.

If you've read this far, thank you.

And if you happen to know someone in Ranchi or anywhere in Jharkhand who repairs, collects, or is willing to part with an old laptop or computer, I'd love to hear from you.

Sometimes, one old machine can mean the world to someone.

*I used a bit of Ai to fix my grammatical and spelling mistakes please don't feel like that it's a fake story, it's my real story*

I grew up in Jamshedpur, and like almost everyone else here, I was raised to be a massive fan of the Tatas. We pride ourselves on living in a structured, manicured "Green City." But if you spend enough time around Adarsh Nagar, Panchvati Nagar, or cycling along Marine Drive, the illusion shatters.

(Note: I have used AI to help me organize and rephrase my thoughts clearly here. I hope people don't mind that—the goal is simply to enable people to see beyond the manufactured reality that is sold to us by the Tatas, and look at the actual environmental costs we are ignoring.)

Here is what I witnessed firsthand growing up, and what most citizens are completely blind to: how corporate strategy has built a brilliant exterior on top of a dying ecosystem, and why our collective worship of a single corporation makes us far more vulnerable than people living in Bangalore or Delhi.

1. The Slag Marine Drive: A Toxic Fortress Disguised as Protection

When I was a kid 34 years ago, I vividly remember people catching massive Katla and Rohu fishes from the Subarnarekha. Today, the fish are stunted, small, and struggling to survive. The river is choking on heavy metals.

During my childhood, I watched the construction of Marine Drive. The corporate PR machine sold it as a masterstroke of engineering—a structure to prevent flooding and stop bank erosion. But look closer at what it’s actually made of: millions of tonnes of industrial steel slag.

When the monsoon floods hit, that slag isn't just sitting there. It undergoes massive chemical leaching, dissolving heavy metals like chromium, manganese, and lead directly into the water column. We literally built a fortress of industrial waste along the banks of the "sweetest river of all," turning its natural valley into a concreted, toxic channel.

2. The Hidden Landfills and Air Pollution

The construction of Marine Drive left behind deep low-lying patches between the road and the actual river valley. For decades, these patches became unlined landfills. Massive amounts of municipal plastic, household garbage, and industrial waste were dumped there to "recover" the land.

Today, those toxic, unstable plots are either occupied by vulnerable Adivasi bastis or sold off by land mafias. During the COVID-19 days, while cycling along Marine Drive, I frequently experienced the horrific reality of this setup: those landfills spontaneously catch fire from trapped methane. The air becomes thick with a foul, suffocating smell of burning plastic and chemicals.

Even our sacred Domuhani—the iconic confluence where the Kharkai meets the Subarnarekha—has been stripped bare. It used to be a dense, beautiful forest when I was young. Now, the iconic trees have been systematically cut down, leaving behind a sparse, ruined patch of land.

3. The Kharkai Paradox

We all know the Kharkai is practically a dead river now. It looks more like an open industrial drain (nala) from Adityapur than a river. Part of me wishes its toxic water would stop mixing with the Subarnarekha to give it some relief. But the terrifying paradox is that the Subarnarekha is rain-fed; without the sheer volume of water the Kharkai brings, the Subarnarekha would dry up completely in the summer into disconnected, stagnant pools of pure industrial poison.

4. The Jamshedpur Blindspot vs. Other Indian Cities

This brings me to the core issue: the psychological blindness of Jamshedpur’s citizens.

Look at cities like Bangalore or Delhi. Yes, they are in an environmental mess. The lakes in Bangalore catch fire; Delhi’s air quality is unbreathable. But here is the crucial difference: People in Bangalore and Delhi acknowledge the crisis. They protest, they criticize the government, and they are acutely aware that they are living in an environmental disaster zone.

In Jamshedpur, we live under a velvet blanket. Because Tata Steel (and TSUISL/JUSCO) keeps the colony areas beautifully manicured, maintains Jubilee Park, and ensures smooth civic amenities, the public has become completely environmentally unaware. The heavy environmental damage has been strategically pushed to the margins—along the riverbanks where poorer communities live.

Because we are taught to be "Tata fans" from birth, we refuse to look over the edge of Marine Drive. We accept corporate greed when it's wrapped in civic convenience.

Does building a functional, orderly city for humans justify treating a magnificent, life-giving river system as a free, infinite garbage disposal unit? Jamshedpur is a beautiful miracle on the outside, but corporate greed has built a city that looks brilliant on the outside while burying deep environmental casualties so far inside that even if people try to look, it is hard to discover. It’s time we open our eyes and look at what is happening to the mud below our feet.

Note: For anyone interested in the science, independent studies routinely show that the Heavy Metal Pollution Index (HPI) and alpha radiation levels near our mining and industrial belts are severely elevated. Our rivers are paying the ultimate price for our "clean city" reputation.

 

I'm shubh from radhanagar!

Anyone from Bokaro area?

Route we are taking:

Ranchi → Patratu Valley and Lake → Netarhat → Ranchi

Driving a hatchback with considerable load, so good road condition is important. If anyone knows or has been on these roads, please clarify.

Jharkhand reports the highest number of ‘witch’ murders in India – crimes in which women are labelled witches and killed. Most of the victims belong to Adivasi and lower caste communities – for a reason.

In this episode of True Story, Scroll’s Executive Editor Supriya Sharma speaks to reporter Nolina Minj about the historical forces of Adivasi land dispossession and impoverishment that have created conditions in which ‘witch’ murders persist.

Anxieties over loss of Adivasi land also keep women deprived of inheritance rights and fuel conspiracies theories about Muslim men luring Adivasi women through ‘love jihad’ and ‘land jihad’ – claims that Minj debunks.

Hey so my mom is into artwork . Like making paintings , hampers , door hangers (bandarbal), rakhi, doing packing for weddings and stuffs and a lot more .

We belong from a very small town CHAKULIYA. And i really want to grow her business . I made u/shreerungta ( that’s the name of our shop too)

It will be so helpful if i get support and growth from you all . Thank u 🙏🏻