When conservation meets nonconformity — and love learns to squint. Yes, The Left-Hand Syndrome. It sounds like a rare neurological condition or a superhero power granted only to the worthy. In my household, it belongs exclusively to my wife, Mita, who appears to be on a lifelong mission to save the planet, one light switch at a time. Her weapon of choice? The left hand. Swift. Silent. Unforgiving. A room lights up for barely a moment before click — darkness returns. It’s as
