TWIL #14: From Sugar to Love

This Week I Learned - Insights, observations, and the stuff that made me go “Whoa!”
TWIL #14: From Sugar to Love

One leadership dispute that still shapes the Islamic world

While reading Destiny Disrupted: A History of the World Through Islamic Eyes, one story stood out to me. Not because it was dramatic, but because its quiet significance still echoes across the world today. I’d always heard about the Sunni–Shia divide, but as a non-Muslim, I never really understood where it came from. Until now.

After the Prophet Muhammad’s death, the Muslim community faced a crucial question: who should lead? One group believed the leader should be chosen by consensus: these became the Sunnis. Others believed leadership should remain within the Prophet’s family, and supported his cousin and son-in-law, Ali.

Ali was passed over for leadership multiple times, and each time he chose not to rebel. He stayed in the background, trying to live by the Prophet’s values: humility, justice, and integrity. But when he finally did take power, it was during a period of civil conflict. And he needed allies. He found them among the non-Arab Muslims, especially the Persians.

It wasn’t necessarily shared belief that brought them together, but shared opposition. The Persians had long felt sidelined by the Arab elite, and now they had a stake in supporting Ali: someone who, like them, stood outside the ruling establishment. That alliance helped form the foundation of what would become Shia Islam.

What began as a political power struggle eventually deepened into theological and cultural differences. And even now, it’s visible on the map: Shia Islam dominates in Iran, southern Iraq, parts of Lebanon, and Bahrain; Sunni Islam remains the majority across the Arab world and much of the globe.

Shia = Red. Sunni = Green.

One leadership dispute, one unlikely alliance and a divide that still shapes the world today.


Not that I’m a sucker for love… but maybe I am

Okay, I’ll admit it: I love a good love story. Give me Han Solo and Leia in Star Wars, and I’m in. But I’m not just a romantic… I’m also curious. This week, while watching a TV series (don’t ask me which one — I’ve already forgotten), a character said something that stuck with me:

“Every culture has a different meaning of the word love.”

That one line sent me down a rabbit hole. And what I found made me look at love in a whole new way. Turns out, love isn’t just one thing. It changes shape depending on the language you speak and the world you come from. Here’s what I found:

Greek: love in seven shades

The Ancient Greeks didn’t lump love into one word. Yhey had a whole vocabulary to capture its different forms:

  • Eros — passionate, physical love
  • Philia — deep, trusting friendship
  • Storge — love between parents and children
  • Agape — unconditional, selfless love
  • Ludus — playful, flirtatious affection
  • Pragma — long-term, practical love
  • Philautia — self-love, both healthy and destructive

The Greeks believed that understanding human nature meant breaking it into parts. Their love language reflects a culture built on philosophy and nuance. Where naming a thing gave you power over it.

Japanese: love without saying “I love you”

In Japan, love is often shown, not spoken. The word ai (愛) means love, and aishiteru (愛してる) means “I love you,” but it’s rarely used in daily life. Instead, subtle gestures speak volumes. Bringing someone tea. Walking them home. Sitting in silence together. There’s also koi (恋). It is a more romantic or longing kind of love, but even that is quietly expressed.

Why so reserved? In Japanese culture, social harmony (wa) is prized above all. Open emotion can disrupt that harmony, so feelings are often expressed through care, service, and presence… not big declarations.

Arabic: love as a journey through words

Arabic doesn’t just have a word for love. It has a progression of words that track how love deepens:

  • Hawa (هوى) — attraction or desire
  • ’Alaaqa (علاقة) — attachment, emotional connection
  • Ishq (عشق) — passionate, burning love
  • Shaghaf (شغف) — heart-consuming love
  • Huyum (هُيُوم) — madness, total surrender

Arabic is the language of centuries-old poetry, and in many Arab cultures, love is seen as a kind of beautiful suffering. A noble ache. Words reflect the stages of surrender, often tied to the divine, the dramatic, and the deeply emotional.

Hindi/Sanskrit: love as devotion and drama

In Hindi and Sanskrit, love isn’t just romantic. It’s also spiritual.

  • Prem (प्रेम) — love in a general sense, tender and affectionate
  • Pyar (प्यार) — romantic love, the most commonly used in Hindi films
  • Bhakti (भक्ति) — devotional love, often directed toward God
  • Sneha (स्नेह) — gentle, nurturing love

In Indian traditions, the line between human love and divine love is often blurred. Love is seen as a path to transcendence. Gilled with longing, sacrifice, and transformation. The emotional intensity you see in Bollywood isn’t exaggerated. It mirrors cultural ideals.

English: one word, many expectations

English gives us just one word: love. Snd expects it to carry everything: romance, friendship, family, passion, loyalty, care. We say “I love pizza” and “I love you” with the same word, which may be why we’re always adding modifiers like “true love,” “platonic love,” “unconditional love,” trying to explain what we really mean.

Why the limitation? English evolved from many languages (Latin, Germanic, French), but it streamlined much of its emotional vocabulary over time. And in Western cultures, where love is often tied to individual fulfillment and personal choice, we expect one word to flex to every context.

So, what is love?

It turns out, the answer depends on who you ask, what language you speak, and what kind of love story you’re telling. Love isn’t one idea. It’s a reflection of the culture that shaped it.

I still love Han and Leia. And I really would love to have pizza all of a sudden…. But now, I also love the idea that love itself means something different across the world.


Same brand, different sugar

My son collects Fanta cans. All kinds of flavors from around the world. That’s how we came across a graphic showing how the sugar content in Fanta varies across Europe.

I knew that flavors were different on different continents… but in every country!? Why? It turns out global brands like Fanta often localize their flavors and recipes based on country specific taste preferences, cultural habits, and even sugar taxes or health laws.