I am one of you

I may be socially impaired
I may not  respond to you
I may not even smile back at you
But I am still one of you

I may not look the same like you

I may think and act differently

I may be lost in my own world

But I am still one of you

I may show unusual gestures
I may have different vocal patterns
You may call me language impaired
But I am still one of you

I may behave abruptly
I may injure myself sometimes
I may act a little insistent
But I am still one of you

I may not be able to concentrate

I may lack interest in things you like

I may typecast behavior frequently

But I am still one of you

I may not become as big as dad
or I may not make my way out
I may even die trying to get up
But I am still one of you

This may be a lifeless life
A flightless existence you may call it
A little attention is all I need
and then I can be one of you...!

Can't we do our bit to help people dealing with autism? Cant we help them finding their ways out?
Help them figure out their wings. They surely will fly!

I had a home...

Once

I had a home

just like you…

a spouse

kids

and a family

 to care for.

Once

I had a home

where we celebrated

birthdays

anniversaries

dinners

and Diwali.

Once

I had a home

that kept us

from Nature

A space

we called our own.

Once

I had a home

Not only the walls

but an adoring

fostering space.

Once

I had a home

and I had

my stories to share

a life to look

forward to.

Once

I had a home 

just like yours…

There are millions of people who were like you and me at some point of their lives, forced onto the streets because of poverty, mental disorders, lack of employment opportunities, war, and lack of affordable housing. These were people with regular lives, a name, a family, an identity. Now they just roam about the streets with no name and identity  with a bag full of memories.

77-Fiction: Child labor

Note:- 77 Fiction infers to fictional writings bounded to a maximum of 77 words. 

That day, kitty party was in her posh bungalow. Every single detail of the party was flamboyant.

They spoke highly on how child labor must be stopped, that such kids desperately need love, education, and care . They took an oath not to employ one. At the end, they raised a toast for the homeless children

When done, with his diminutive hands and hopeful eyes, he rushed to the kitchen to clean up the mess...

Poor Chotu!

Begging for help....!

While Driving back home...

Waiting on a traffic signal

I heard a knock

and looked out of window

To find a small girl!

Her hair out of place...

Her clothes begrimed
They were all tattered

She was fagged out,
incapacitated eyes...
Hands stretched open,
She pointed towards her tummy...

"Don't give her money!!"
My friend warned
She didn't even care
while I was stunned

I wanted to help
but I stopped myself
To know the sheer reality
of the beggary business

Abducting kids
to earn income
Even cutting out their limbs
to depict helplessness!

Each time I see
A child yearning for a rupee
I see in him
A child longing for escape

An escape from beggary...
to a world where
He can study, eat,
And most importantly,
Live.........!

I dont feel safe anymore...

Suddenly , the world which I live in is falling apart. People are dying from bomb blasts ,stampede, floods....... Terrosism has now become an everyday affair! Politicians are ruining our country! Common man can do nothing but complaint!!

So what is wrong with the world? I have no idea. Should I ignore all of this and be happy.Maybe, Yes! But ultimately, I will be affected too......

Sometimes, I feel scared to board the metro train. You can listen to the people talking about blasts and all that jazz. But nobody bothers to do anything.

Why dont the politicians understand? Why only the common man suffers?
Why we cannot be free?
Is this democracy?
Is this what we call Independence?

Awaiting Escape....

Those eyes.. eyes of the storming seas,
Your crown of thorns gashes deep through me.
My flaws flow ceaseless, through my brains,
my blood dissolves, breaks up within my veins.

Inhuman.... you clutch my back,
tightening vines around my neck.
Your hollow screams replicate through my soul,
My inaudible cries freezes the night so cold.

I bear your scars... being a woman of shame,
Unable to break out from this cruel unceasing game.
You jab me with ignorance, blistered me with words
Crowning me with disgrace, break me inwards.

Am I despicable for being me,
Unseen, unheard, hoping to be free?
Virago, why do you despise,
Blaming me, cursing me... Why do you chastise?

How do I escape from those burns,
Mangled flesh everywhere I turn?
Why do you press me against the wall,
Bang me in my bones, making me crawl?

My blood spills out like a perpectual stream,
Your hate I resist, unable to scream.
You can see me but not yourself,
You judge me like a swinger, put me on a shelf.

I detest your stand, detest your hate,
Yet you loudly exalt this as my fate!
You stipple my blood on your porcelain skin,
My grief becomes your pride! my declention fires your grin.

You trip me, drown me in the soil,
Snap me, combust me, mock my toil,
Rip me apart, bruise my soul,
While I weepingly await rescue that makes me whole.

Earth hour 2010

Earth Hour is inviting individuals, communities, business and governments to switch off lights for one hour at 8:30pm on March 27, sending a powerful global message that we care enough about climate change to take action. The ethos of Earth Hour is simple – keep it open source, keep it hopeful, positive, uniting and empowering. It all starts in your local community. So come forward and join the movement!



PS: Show your support and add yourself to supporters map! Click on the widget to fill in your details. By signing up you are supporting Earth Hour's aim to reach more than one billion people in 1000 cities around the world in 2010.

Kids and Reality TV

Can we please put a stop to "talent" shows for kids. Put an end to all talent shows, yes, but as of now, no kids shows puh-lease.

They are endless in number. Every popular channel and regional channel takes one show to its credit. Theoretically, there is nothing incorrect in looking for children who are talented. But the current format of talent hunt shows makes this exercise deeply reprehensible. Small children, hardly 5-6 years old, breaking down and weeping in the middle of the show, and the camera going into tight close-ups while mournful music plays in the background. Disgusting!

Moreover, the kids are made to live away from family, school, friends. In order to get them "trained"! Why don't people realize that the kid will undergo changes in the future as they grow up, that might not be suitable for an ideal playback singer. The kids don't understand half the things in the concept. They pull nice audience and get decent TRPs yes, but on the cost of what? their childhood? The children taught to beg for the votes that determine their shelf-life; They be told to work on their image, as a public figure, fan-following; Playing with their innocent emotions by teaching them the dirty tricks of the world; Pulling them onto the stage n eliminate them one by one; Torturing them until they break-down. The kids undergoing through all the trauma, why? To live their parents unfulfilled dreams? Or get some big-shot channel producer all the ad money?

The makers of the show surely need some psychologists out there to explain to them the long-lasting images that may remain in the kids conscious. Why not keep all 10-15, make them sing/dance/act/paint/recite/talk in different rounds, and chose the best? [without public voting n other nonsense please]. But this wont get them to cover what TRPs demand... Emotional Melodrama!!

Edit the tried and tested formulas, make more shows. But this is the manipulation of the most unethical kind. And its something we can all do without.

So-called "Breast Cancer Campaign"

Around 8pm, I saw a weird Facebook status update from a friend. The update read, "Black" Huh? Over the next few hours, more than half the status updates in my feed turned out to be colors, mostly pink, beige, and black. I figured out later that these were colors of bras. I somehow thought it to be stupid and did not participate!!

I just thought it to be pointless!! And you know what I didn't do? Think about breast cancer. That, however, was supposedly the point of the exercise. No one knows who started this but there are reports that it was started by a Detroit woman to spread breast cancer awareness! And there it was... a pointless campaign for breast cancer (that’s what media says)!! I received a message that said

"We are playing a game...... silly, but fun! Write the color of your bra as your status, just the color, nothing else!! Copy this and pass it on to all girls...... NO MEN!! This will be fun to see how it spreads, and we are leaving the men wondering why all females just have a color as their status!! Let's have fun”

I wonder how did the message aware me of breast cancer and how could I do such favors by doing this superfluous activity. In this exposed age, this campaign doesn't strike me as very naughty thing to do—typing in the word "beige" is a far cry from dirty talk. But ultimately, what's the point of it? Almost all the people who are updating their status boxes with bra colors are doing only that. They're not saying a word about cancer. This isn't awareness or education; it's titillation.There's nothing wrong using nontraditional and goofy marketing tactics to raise awareness of public-health issues. Sometimes, if it's done really well, it can make people laugh while they're learning something serious. Other times, it's done in ways that are hugely successful. But what was the purpose?? I still cannot get the answer.

I am not sure if I can find anyone in this world right now who is unaware of breast cancer. What we need now is not the far-fetched knowledge but a scientific clarity to the people as to its cure!! Such campaigns could have been of some help a decade back but know, we need measures... strong ones!!

I liked a status by a writer that read, "Post what your arteries look like and support a cure for heart disease!"