tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12176262049744117612024-03-14T00:49:29.109-07:00Outlandish stuff that infests my headHey,
You are reading my head now, really. Or maybe, just another teen's.
#To make a difference all you need is a beautiful heart, and a will to get up and make it happen.
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-64324903277841294602015-06-28T13:37:00.003-07:002015-07-28T12:59:30.384-07:0011 Things mentally strong parents don't do<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>Here's my article as published in lifehack.org (http://www.lifehack.org/articles/communication/11-things-mentally-strong-parents-dont.html)</i></div>
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Mentally strong parents are the most crucial ingredient in raising mentally strong children who have the courage to explore their passions, the ability to lead fulfilling lives and the values to be an exemplary member of the society. By ensuring that you know the do’s and don’ts of parenting with mental strength, you can raise your child to be a bolder, more prepared citizen of our world. So watch out, here are the11 things mentally strong parents don’t do.</div>
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1.<strong> They don’t preach</strong></h2>
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Mentally strong parents recognize that facilitating their child’s development by being a good friend to their kids works better most of the time than commanding and forbidding the child to behave in a certain way. They know that there’s a stark difference between simply lecturing/yelling and suggesting opinions to their children like a friend would.</div>
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2. <strong>They don’t jump to the same impatient conclusion about their children like everyone else</strong></h2>
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Most of the time, a child’s problems, behaviours, and attitudes seem difficult to control and on a downward spiral because the child can’t find a trustworthy, willing listener to confide in. Naturally, children are born with a trust in parents who nurse them in their very first days and so by default, children more readily confide in parents if they are patient listeners. When kids are unwilling to share their issues with their parents, it is usually because they have been judged or their previous problems have been incompletely and incorrectly understood when they last tried to express themselves. Mentally strong parents take the extra effort to always ensure that they are lending their full attention to listen and to understand their children from an unbiased perspective. They know that when their child is in a mess, it is because he/she has been misunderstood at some point. Great parents are sympathetic; even when they know their child is wrong, they respond to the issue with patience, understanding, and adopt a positive method to help their child overcome the obstacle.</div>
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3. <strong>They are not adamant about living their own ambitions through their children</strong></h2>
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My parents have always dreamed that I would become a medical doctor and thus fulfill the ambitions of their own youth. Two years ago, when I told them that I didn’t want to study medicine, they were first shocked, and then saddened. But they quickly moved on after accepting that though I was their dear daughter, I am a different individual from what they are, and that I have different aspirations that ought to be respected and supported.</div>
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This is one of the hallmarks of mentally hardy parents. They recognize that their young ones are different individuals and do not push their own dreams on their children. Rather, they encourage their kids to reach their full potential in the fields about which their kids are personally passionate.</div>
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4. <strong>They don’t forget that ‘unconditional positive regard’ is the best way to parent</strong></h2>
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According to psychologist Carl Rogers, Unconditional positive regard is the basic acceptance and support of a person regardless of what the person says or does. Unconditional parenting with resilient positive regard is the best means to raise a child with self-esteem, while still instilling the values that you want instilled.</div>
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Unconditional parenting can be seen as parenting your children for what they are, not what they do. Even when their child does something unacceptable, mentally strong parents do not turn to negative means of disciplining their child. Rather, they remember who their children really are inside, and positively respond to the situation by offering to listen and showing that they still love their children. Ultimately, the strongest parents are aware that nothing beats the power of being unconditionally loved and positively reinforced regardless of one’s actions. Though it might be challenging to be shower unconditional love all the time, In the long run, they know that positive reinforcement will make their children the best individuals they can become.</div>
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5. <strong>they don’t force their decisions and viewpoints on their children</strong></h2>
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Instead, great parents let their children decide for themselves most of the time. Even in the most crucial times, mentally strong parents allow their children the liberty of thinking and speaking out for themselves, because they know that this autonomy to be their own person will tremendously boost the growth of their child’s personality as a confident, independent thinker.</div>
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6. <strong>They don’t claim to know everything</strong></h2>
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The wisest parents know that their children have novel, incredible ideas and interesting lives that can teach fascinating lessons which no book or institution possibly can. These parents recognize that learning from children is a fun, rewarding process and that there is much more in life that has to be learnt. Because they are willing to learn, they are also strong enough to let their children know that they don’t know everything.</div>
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7. <strong>They don’t plan out their children’s entire lives in a neat map</strong></h2>
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Mentally strong parents let much of their children’s life to be shaped as time passes and things change. Besides saving up for basic essentials like education and medical insurance, they let their children earn for and carve their own adult lives from scratch. They leave their children just enough wealth to start off, but not enough to comfortably live their entire lives with their parent’s neat maps and money. Mentally sturdy parents let their kids build their own lives out of their own hard work and character.</div>
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8. <strong>They never, ever physically abuse their children</strong></h2>
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A mentally strong parent is smart enough to know what does the worst job of disciplining their kids: physical harassment. They don’t slap or hit or interact with negative physical contact. Instead, they look out for when their kid is doing a good job, and they reward this desirable behavior and appreciate their kids for what they specifically did well.</div>
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9. <strong>They don’t measure their kids’ success by the same measure as the rest of the world</strong></h2>
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Awesome parents know that their child is worth much more than the popular measures of success such as fame, money and an esteemed job title. They don’t raise their children for these superficial goals, but rather raise them in a way that prepares them to meet the challenges of life with a head held high, to live life optimistically, to view happiness as a journey, to find satisfaction in doing what they love and to seek meaning in themselves. Mentally strong parents look deeper into their child than the world does and encourage their kid to find success in his/her own terms, rather than in the terms of the world.</div>
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10. <strong>They don’t suppress a rebellious child</strong></h2>
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Mentally tough parents don’t rebel against a rebellious child. Instead they are ready to view things from their child’s different perspective. They accept their child for who he/she is and never compare their child with someone else. Ultimately, the strongest parents forgive their children and embrace the uniquely extraordinary strengths of their own child’s character.</div>
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11. <strong>They don’t expect their child to learn from values that they don’t already represent</strong></h2>
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The most amazing parents teach their children by example. They understand that they cannot possibly instil values of honesty in their child when they are liars themselves or teach humility if they are pompous braggers pampering their kids. Mentally tough parents are ready to change themselves so that they become positive examples for their child’s growth.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-1201496296906859222015-06-10T00:27:00.001-07:002015-06-10T00:27:24.017-07:00Spoken word poetry-rap hybrid on Hope<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Here's my poem performed for you under a minute!<br />
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<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/YOvfWaJel3s/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/YOvfWaJel3s?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YOvfWaJel3s&feature=youtu.be</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-22311706520144251492015-06-07T23:27:00.001-07:002015-06-08T00:46:41.876-07:00..Too many carbs!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The words have eaten sugar</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">They dance madly at</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The tip of my fingers</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Threatening to </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">jump out</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Before I can write them down</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">P.S: How so often do I feel this way..:P..so I thought I'd give it to you in poetry!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-puovTdHSzck/VXVIVtsCNBI/AAAAAAAAAKU/kzWzadamtn4/s1600/lofthouse-sugar-cookies12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-puovTdHSzck/VXVIVtsCNBI/AAAAAAAAAKU/kzWzadamtn4/s1600/lofthouse-sugar-cookies12.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-25379283427936956082015-03-30T04:49:00.002-07:002015-03-30T05:39:43.888-07:00I will survive<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Hey! Here's a poem for you!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">They say</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">Only the fittest survive, sardonically.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">The whole enchilada’s pressing on my throbbing </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">Head. Like a drained sponge, dehydrated</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">I can only hear jeers, see mocks, talk</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">Nothing with my quivering lips, to the</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">World that says I am drowning to doom in the</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">Tough Ocean of the world. But they know not </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">That I can swim.</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-84410989350158951792014-10-17T01:29:00.000-07:002015-03-30T05:37:28.698-07:00Bringing about the change that rests on our fingertips<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This summer vacation, I decided to help children who
never knew their parents, or those who, by a one day freak accident, have lost
them. These youngsters, being no different from me, are pushed to the
helpless-sounding status of an orphan. In an amazingly unmatchable experience, I
served at an orphanage, which was just a simple large hall, with all kitchen
materials, including a stove and vessels one side, a medium sized TV on top, and the daily Tamil
newspapers (which I later found, the kids read) stacked outside, where there
was a pet-dog, and a washroom. That was all- the home to forty kids, two
helping ‘mothers’ and a founder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">You wouldn’t even imagine that such simplicity can produce
such happy kids- I didn’t. When I entered the room, to start my program, however,
I was overwhelmed by the overflowing fun and life, loud laughter and games of a
motley bunch of kids, from three to fourteen, girls and boys, of different
looks and origins, all welded into one family by mutual love.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--cgL8FLGyvQ/VRk4vSyjMQI/AAAAAAAAAJY/USaieWJOfSo/s1600/blogpic2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--cgL8FLGyvQ/VRk4vSyjMQI/AAAAAAAAAJY/USaieWJOfSo/s1600/blogpic2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As they saw me, by what told me was instilled
discipline, they ordered themselves into neat rows, the little ones and the
teens, and all of them wished dad and me as we entered, with a loud, “Vanakkam
ayya, Vanakkam amma” (Welcome Sir, Welcome Madam) I was humbled and
wonderstruck: I was hardly a year older to some of them, and yet all of them
had such respect I was yet to learn from.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When I launched into my talk, they surprised me as
very attentive, responsive, agreeable listeners. I could see fire in them;
great determination and even greater capacity. I could almost see many as the
future leaders they would become. Not one mocked at another for a bad answer to
a question I’d ask; they helped and empowered each other, and many of the older
ones listened as if they really were impacted. In the course of my volunteering
there, I helped them learn Basic English, and update their general knowledge,
apart from giving an SS talk and in the end left them with two dictionaries. They
didn’t regret their having no parents, in fact I noticed they had everything,
and love, so their condition was not shameful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My other endeavor this year was spreading awareness
on environmental issues to at a small school, to gaping kids knowing for the
first time the problems facing our planet, but who soon converted wonder to
understanding and innovation, coming up with creative solutions in a ‘save
environment’ writing contest held following the session.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Every one of these experiences, and every other bit
of volunteering I do, makes me feel blessed about what I have. Social service is thrilling. Drawing smiles is a beautiful art that we all ought to try, artists or not. For me, my family has been the
greatest support. I have learnt that middle class students like me are in the best position to uplift others. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When I told kids “You’ve got it already- food,
clothing, love and education. If you make the best use of these precious
resources, you can climb to any height. Achieve anything. You are not alone, never. You’ve got each other, a loving family, and
the whole world willing to help. You are the great leaders of tomorrow. Believe
in yourself.” It made me believe, too. Change is at the tip of our fingers. It is our responsibility to bring it on for the better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-76108499175810485802014-06-19T03:51:00.001-07:002014-06-19T03:51:45.439-07:00About me<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“Tell me about yourself” he asked.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Ah, if only I knew enough of myself to say that</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Or words enough colorful and imaginative</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">To put into language </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The spirit, character, attitude</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">(Or those disgusting attributes)</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">that sustain me.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The universe of memories that sew</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Up the fragile, yet powerful sinews of my existence</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The uniqueness, the boldness of </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The lattice that forms this confused bundle of cells</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Carefully calculated with an ulterior motive;</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">,</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The tears that heal my invisible scars, </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The warmth that welds the </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Million brittle pieces of my heart intact</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The thoughts that wrought my significant position as an</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Insignificance among a billion similar, all </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">make me too</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Complicated to be put in words- After all, My dear,</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I’m a being.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-5673150313880781282014-06-19T03:44:00.001-07:002014-06-19T03:44:05.930-07:00Living like bubbles<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="article_body" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 30px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
Struggle, struggle<br />With toil and trouble<br />Go through it all, then<br />Pop like a bubble</div>
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(Inspired by Macbeth. Of course</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-61571132703684247642014-06-19T03:15:00.001-07:002014-06-19T03:15:06.478-07:00When a writer's pen stops working<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">That was my pen, before.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Lapped up every last drop of ink hungrily</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">And spewed them all out in just the right</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Shape, the right amount, for the right meaning,</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Blowing life into its royal blue color recipe</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">To craft breathing alphabets that </span><a href="http://www.teenink.com/poetry/free_verse/article/571777/When-a-writers-pen-stops-working/#" id="_GPLITA_2" in_rurl="http://i.txtsrving.info/click?v=QUU6NjU1NTA6MTMwNDphbmltYXRlZDpmNzkxNGYxNzM1ZGU2NjQ3NjA4YjJhMDVkZjcyMTFkNzp6LTE3NTAtNTExMTgxOnd3dy50ZWVuaW5rLmNvbToxOTgyMzU6YWY0ZmJjODkyOTY4MzRiMDkzZjM0NTI0NTI1Y2JkNTg6NTZlNDliN2FkZThhNGQwMzgyZmM5NmFmMjM1NWNlNGI6MQ&subid=g-511181-a4d89101a2d849d0a2e765b80238bd80-" style="border: none !important; color: #0000cc; display: inline-block !important; float: none !important; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif !important; font-size: 13px !important; height: auto !important; line-height: 18px !important; margin: 0px !important; min-height: 0px !important; min-width: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important; vertical-align: baseline !important; width: auto !important;" title="Click to Continue > by deal4me">animated<img src="http://cdncache-a.akamaihd.net/items/it/img/arrow-10x10.png" style="border: none !important; display: inline-block !important; float: none !important; height: 10px !important; margin: 0px 0px 0px 3px !important; min-height: 0px !important; min-width: 0px !important; outline: 0px; padding: 0px !important; vertical-align: super !important; width: 10px !important;" /></a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Into words that I remember</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Were mischievous, but adorable babies:</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">They used to talk, walk, play, cry and sleep;</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Oh, they used to live on their vast white landscape,</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Reviving my memories with their </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Own connotation- my innovators.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">But my pen is a teenager: unpredictable and moody,</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">It now creates stubborn, sterile letters that just want to besiege</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The tip, clog right there and not drop out.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Even if I jerked it awake now, my pen would just puke some </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Little droplets shaped like letters that would</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Blot the paper ugly, or, the words would exit deformed, like</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Their genes had gotten affected by a nuclear bomb.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Oh, what have I done to enrage you, my love?</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Did I over-feed you, or under-appreciate you</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">That your self-esteem decided to turn upon me,</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Or become so dependent on you that my mind has dulled</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Its imaginations far too dry now, </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">For you to shape them well?</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">My verses now wilt and die, </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">New lands in the paper just get wasted, alarming me</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">For land is a limited resource in my house, the earth.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">But land is not the ultimate problem,</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">For there are a thousand landscapes I could pull out of my imagination;</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Only if my pen would love me once more </span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">And reproduce my ink faithfully,</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I could be a writer again.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-59778397399802360752014-06-19T03:10:00.000-07:002014-10-17T01:18:29.338-07:00Letter to ‘Mr.Right’ From ‘The Modern Indian Woman’<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Hey fellas! Here's another one, as published on women's web! See it there with many other awesome articles at <a href="http://www.womensweb.in/2013/05/letter-to-mr-right-from-modern-indian-woman/">http://www.womensweb.in/2013/05/letter-to-mr-right-from-modern-indian-woman/</a> !</div>
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Dear ‘Mr.Right’</div>
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This note to you is all about some demands and requests that have come from many hopes, expectations and experiences; this letter is for you, so that you don’t get surprised by my expectations later in life, and so that you remind me of when I’m neglecting my own rules, because this note is for both you and me, for the ‘us’ to work without wearing out.</div>
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I know everything may seem just perfect in the initial stages of love. I may look like the most beautiful thing to us, the most perfect, and ideal. But time is not so kind for we may have to gradually witness terrible <a href="http://www.womensweb.in/2013/05/letter-to-mr-right-from-modern-indian-woman/#" id="_GPLITA_2" in_rurl="http://i.txtsrving.info/click?v=QUU6NjU1NTA6MTMwNDpzaGFkZXM6OWQxZTE3NGQ5NjYzZDNiZGE5MTBhNjcxMTFiNGNmZjk6ei0xNzUwLTUxMTE4MTp3d3cud29tZW5zd2ViLmluOjE5ODIzNTphZjRmYmM4OTI5NjgzNGIwOTNmMzQ1MjQ1MjVjYmQ1ODo1ODRhM2YwNDkyMDM0ZDUyYWZmY2M5ZTU1YTViZjg0Zjox&subid=g-511181-29258bf975774f04b82698f27fd5614b-" style="border: none !important; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0077cc; display: inline-block !important; float: none !important; height: auto !important; margin: 0px !important; min-height: 0px !important; min-width: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important; vertical-align: baseline !important; width: auto !important;" title="Click to Continue > by deal4me">shades<img src="http://cdncache-a.akamaihd.net/items/it/img/arrow-10x10.png" style="border: none !important; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-block !important; float: none !important; height: 10px !important; margin: 0px 0px 0px 3px !important; min-height: 0px !important; min-width: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important; vertical-align: super !important; width: 10px !important;" /></a> of each other revealed, those ugly truths that may emerge from the inside and outside. Tough situations may remove the illusion of love, but I hope you’ll still accept me. These tests will run every day for us; right from waking with messed up hair and groggy eyes in the morning, which is not a most aesthetically pleasing sight- which is well when we may come to realize the harsh truth, even ‘the right one’ can be imperfect.<span id="more-18361" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: inherit;"></span></div>
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<a href="http://i2.wp.com/www.womensweb.in/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/modern-Indian-woman.jpg" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #0077cc; line-height: inherit; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="modern Indian woman" class="alignright size-full wp-image-18438" src="http://i2.wp.com/www.womensweb.in/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/modern-Indian-woman.jpg?resize=320%2C240" height="240" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; float: right; line-height: inherit; margin-left: 15px; vertical-align: middle;" width="320" /></a>There are some things I’d like to let you know. I feel it’s important to reinforce this because there will be so many stones to tumble upon in the way of our ‘perfect’ relationship.</div>
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I’m a modern woman.</div>
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The first thing is that I will not change who I am, not for you or anyone. Only after loving myself enough will I have the strength to love you, because I believe dignity is most important. I am also an independent woman. This, you may be unfamiliar with, as many are in <a href="http://www.womensweb.in/2013/03/engaging-with-everyday-sexism/" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #0077cc; line-height: inherit; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="everyday sexism in India"><strong style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: inherit;">sexist India</strong></a>(which is sluggishly but definitely trying to change), but you must get used to it. I will respect you as an individual, and I hope that’d be reciprocated. We do not own each other; we are complimentary, yet free.</div>
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I don’t follow what others do. There could be a thousand ‘inescapable’ trends, but you’ll find me fight many of them. I don’t care what path the others may choose, but I’ll take that one which will suit me best, a way that’s may be different from yours. But I ask that you hold my hand to support me even as we experience our the different adventures that come along our own way, and not try to push me over the stumbling blocks or hope that I’d never dare venture individually, myself. I wish that you will care for me and protect me, and also accept when I may do the same to you.</div>
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We belong to the same species- <i style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: inherit;">Homo sapiens – </i>which means that you are in no way superior; neither am I. I expect that you take equal responsibility in every stage of our life together- housework, child upbringing, because these and a thousand other Indian misconceptions are not equal to ‘woman-work’; because actually, they are ‘human-work’.</div>
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I may seem tough but I have my fragile points, and hazy times, just as you. I hope our arms will be open to comfort one another when we’re low.</div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: 'Varela Round', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
We may get frustrated a thousand times. The voyage of love does not come easy. There may be frustrating times when the relationship feels unbearable, broken, times when love turns to hatred and anger, when the future looks bleak and dark, but know that, with optimism, <a href="http://www.womensweb.in/2013/05/letter-to-mr-right-from-modern-indian-woman/#" id="_GPLITA_3" in_rurl="http://i.txtsrving.info/click?v=QUU6NjU1NTA6MTMwNDpjb3VyYWdlOmRmNjQ4OGVhMzlhNjAwNzFiZmI5MTI3MGVmZTdkMTM5OnotMTc1MC01MTExODE6d3d3LndvbWVuc3dlYi5pbjoxOTgyMzU6YWY0ZmJjODkyOTY4MzRiMDkzZjM0NTI0NTI1Y2JkNTg6MGQzMmM2ODgyNThkNGFkYmE4Yjc1MzgxMGYyZjMwYTg6MQ&subid=g-511181-29258bf975774f04b82698f27fd5614b-" style="border: none !important; box-sizing: border-box; color: #0077cc; display: inline-block !important; float: none !important; height: auto !important; margin: 0px !important; min-height: 0px !important; min-width: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important; vertical-align: baseline !important; width: auto !important;" title="Click to Continue > by deal4me">courage<img src="http://cdncache-a.akamaihd.net/items/it/img/arrow-10x10.png" style="border: none !important; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-block !important; float: none !important; height: 10px !important; margin: 0px 0px 0px 3px !important; min-height: 0px !important; min-width: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important; vertical-align: super !important; width: 10px !important;" /></a>, trust, and the power of both of us, we’ll somehow manage to light a candle. Please don’t ever lose hope or faith in me. True love, I know will never die. Please remind me when I forget, that silly fights, vague outsiders, stupid situations, none of these, nothing, is worth our precious bond.</div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: 'Varela Round', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
I hope you’ll see right through all my defenses and understand me. I hope you’ll confide in me, and listen to me when I’m low. I hope you will be not just a lover to me, but a best-friend, a protective father, and a complimenting brother.</div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: 'Varela Round', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
Most of all, I want you to recognize me as a unique personality with flaws and pluses, and love me for just that.</div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: 'Varela Round', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
Yours,</div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: 'Varela Round', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 10px;">
The modern Indian woman</div>
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<br /></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-56797873942409646402014-03-09T11:08:00.001-07:002014-03-09T11:08:54.652-07:00Rumors<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
Rumors-<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
flourish like wild fire,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fuelling Some-<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Burning many. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-37449751784203122542013-12-31T11:25:00.002-08:002014-10-17T01:18:58.497-07:00Timeline of an illiterate girl <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<i><b>There are so many girl children in India who are uneducated. The real question is: What are we doing to help fight illiteracy? As published on women's web: </b></i><a href="http://www.womensweb.in/2013/11/an-illiterate-girl-in-india/">http://www.womensweb.in/2013/11/an-illiterate-girl-in-india/</a></h3>
<div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
As I was taken out of my laboring mother’s womb, my
grandmother was the first to look at me. And she started crying even before I
did. Her shrill screech of horror resonated across the room louder than my
mother’s pain: “oh no…it has happened…. it’s a GIRL!” She had expected a
productive ‘heir’ to the family, a man, a protector who could earn and help the
family prosper; not this useless dummy-piece of the girl was later going to be
sold with dowry that the family wouldn’t be able to afford. Soon, my father
retired to one corner with his head in his hands. That was how I received my
welcome, on the very first day I dawned- I was looked at like I was not an
infant, but a harmful stone that had been removed from mom’s womb. Later that day,
some of my relatives suggested that I be killed or dumped to rot somewhere,
disposable as I was. But dear dad took pity on me, and so I have lived long
enough to come to this state.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m happy that I didn’t understand all this hatred towards
me as a girl, when I was little. The truth of my position in life started
dawning only later on me. I understood it the first time, as a five year old
girl. My cousin brother who was also my age, was to attend school the very
first time. “Get him oiled, and bathed, and ready. He must look well groomed!
He’s going to the school!” I remember my grandmother say. “What about me? I
want to look nice too. Take me with ram! I want to go school! It will be big and nice and I can play! I
know there are nice teachers and books!” I told my grandma, who uncomfortably
shifted in her place and exchanged looks with my mother, whose face looked
downtrodden upon my innocent words. Of course she knew that I, as a mere <i>girl</i>, wouldn’t be allowed to attend
school.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I never went. I
stayed at home. When I was little, I used to help mom clean the vessels and
listen to the gossip of the old ladies on the verandah whenever I got
bored. I used to stare longingly at the
beautiful books that ram took to school every day, and envy the way they got
bigger every year. Sometimes, I would sit to look at those books, but I
wouldn’t understand a word. Mom soon
gave birth again, and to everyone’s delight, to a boy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In other times, I would look outside at the bus that
shuttled back and forth between our village and the town, and wonder how the
big, sophisticated town would be like. But I could only go if dad took me, but
I was too scared to ask. I knew ram’s school took him on trips to see and
observe the town, many a time. He also seemed to be able to easily join in adults’
complex talks of big numbers and cities outside our state, though like me, he
was only eight that time. The only news I knew were the local gossip and who fought
with whom and which woman has the most marks from domestic abuse. I was
terrified because I knew my situation was going to be the same one day. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I turned twelve, I was sent to work at the construction
site of a large house in my village, for a wage of about fifty rupees every day,
so that our family could continue to pay for ram’s increasing cost of education
as he passed through higher grades and also support the little new arrival of
my brother to the family. Ram now sometimes read those enormous paragraphs
about money and things on the newspaper. Meanwhile, I learnt to cook a hundred
meals to tailor the varied likings of my dad and, then, ram. After working ten
hours at the construction site, I would come home and help mom clean up, and
then take care of my little brother. At night every day, grandma used to tell
me about how I should be when I grew up. She would tell me I’d get married in a
couple of years and about duties as a woman. I was a girl, so I had to be
humble, I had to be wise enough to rise above my own longings and sacrifice
boundlessly. I was a girl, so I should learn to tolerate every sort of
treatment, and bear my family’s weight till it crushes me. As a wife, I would
have to surrender the utmost god, who my husband, to me, would become. I had to
be strong, fully selfless and absolutely tolerant and limitlessly submissive. “Never
raise your voice. Don’t give your opinion if it’s not requested for. Don’t have
contacts with men, as you are growing older. Otherwise, I’d be an incapable
woman worthy of scorn...” and so she would preach. This was my only education.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, a disaster befell. Mom got severely ill, and then
died. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dad then told a twelve year old me that I was in charge of
all the household duties. For a couple
of years after that, I was the new mother in the family, to my little brother
and to my cousins including ram. Doing household chores and taking care of
everyone became my life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, just as my grandmother’s words had it, I was married
at the age of fifteen. I saw my groom the hour he was to marry me. Following
the duties that had been so well etched on my heart, I showed nothing on my
face and remained silent. He looked okay, but his manner was disturbing to me.
I could, of course do nothing about it. That evening before leaving with him, I
went to my mother, and cried. She cried with me. The groom, she told me, had been dad’s
decision. She had tried to convince dad to not accept this man’s proposal, but
as he was the only affordable groom with a relatively moderate dowry, dad had
to subside. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Soon I joined my village club of abused women, but I was
luckier than most. Most of the time, this man acted lovingly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Soon, I got pregnant. This was the most joyous time of my
life, and for a while he was completely gentle. And then my baby, another girl
child was born. I accepted her with all my love, though the same reaction
didn’t emerge from the rest of my family.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One fine night, when our child was one, my husband left me.
Searches were made, and my dad nearly collapsed in terror, women picked
hungrily on this fresh topic, and I was stricken with fright and anxiety. But
he was not found. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After that, I returned again to my father’s house, to raise
my daughter.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today, several years later, I am helpless. I still do not
know the alphabet. My dad has died. My daughter is married. Today, with no
literacy, I hover, in midair. With no honor, no source of income. I don’t know
who to reach for. I am now, a beggar on the streets, who saw you as you passed
by me today. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0in 0in 1.0pt 0in; padding: 0in;">
I am not alone. One in every
three girls in India is illiterate. And oh yes, we are in a very good position
in life, as you can see. And this is your country, India, just as it is mine.
What are you doing about this issue?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-85697505305403400662013-09-26T10:30:00.001-07:002013-09-26T10:31:49.482-07:00Homecoming of a petal<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="article_body" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 30px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<br /></div>
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The fresh breeze dances lightly</div>
<div class="article_body" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 30px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
On the tips of the dangling dewdrop<br />
And slides on smoothly on my<br />
Back. The juicy sun shines on<br />
The edges of my rosy sheath<br />
As I flow down with time through the air<br />
And sway, driven by crowded thoughts<br />
And imaginations invading the air, to<br />
Lazily glide and land on a lush<br />
Green bed that soaks my<br />
Skin with effusive moisture<br />
And love,<br />
So much love.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-75391257558558251282013-06-24T09:26:00.001-07:002013-06-24T09:28:08.300-07:00A beautiful heart<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: yellow;">As published on Women's Web</span><a href="http://www.womensweb.in/2013/06/story-of-my-grandmother/?preview=true">http://www.womensweb.in/2013/06/story-of-my-grandmother/?preview=true</a>, <span style="color: yellow;">my</span> <span style="color: yellow;">article, here! :</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: lime;">I cannot remember passing through a single phase of my life
without my granny. Right from the photos in the bedroom that we share, which
show her feeding my toothless mouth when I was little, to the fact that she
still braids my hair for school every day, reflect the tight bond between us.
Though she may look old, fat or short; she is still beautiful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: lime;">The number of decades she’s survived through in this harsh
world has filled her with so many memories that even after spending all my
fifteen years with me, she still has new stories to share; several that she
cherishes, and some that are indirectly meant to advise me as teaching lessons.
Often, these recollections have to do with her beloved husband, a grandfather
I’d never known by person, but always known by character and spirit. That was
because of the profound portrait of his personality that my grandma drew in my
head with her vibrant, meticulous recollections relating to him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: lime;">And sometimes, in the most thoughtful silence, she would
reminisce those memories which are closest to her heart- to, many a time end up
weeping by the end of her narration. Because these weren’t just touching
stories woven to entertain, they had been a range of concrete experiences, some
nostalgic, some painful; and my brave Granma, she’d courageously braved them
all. She strengthens me with her strength, and reassures me with her love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: lime;">I fight with her. I have a countless times, spat “What’s
your stupid problem?” and such thoughtlessly cruel phrases, but the fact that
no amount of my anger can hold up the yearning to apologize by planting a kiss
on her cheek before bed, seems to
repeatedly make an ultimate joke out of any grim argument between us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: lime;">It’s remarkable to see her still alive, motile and breathing,
after hearing about the number of family members she has lost- her siblings,
her parents, her husbands; they’re all gone, her only relatives now are those
she has herself produced; while I cannot even imagine letting go of the tiniest
bit of my family. But as I told you, I guess that’s just how resilient she is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;">
<span style="color: lime;">When she was
young, a photo shows me, my grandma used to be a petite, skinny figure (as she
loves to recall) with flourishing, flowing crow-black hair as long as her short
stature. And that skinny figure- oh, it had
worked five times its size. Raising four kids in a patriarchal society some
fifty years back in a developing country must have been no easy task. Even
tougher than herding four mischievous little monsters, I’ve come to understand,
was having to take care of my grandfather (her husband) who, as a
very demanding ‘head of family’ would expect her to randomly conjure up
instantaneously just about anything he wished for. He’d just go, “Make me some
sweets” and voila, it <i>ought </i>to be
there in half an hour. But the tougher part of cooking must have been that
water had to be <i>drawn </i>from a well
(not many taps) , no electric-gas stove (firewood instead), no ready-made
ingredients, no refrigerator, no grinder (mortar and pestle in its place), and
an enormous lot of manual cleaning, cutting, chopping, and cooking to do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: lime;">Apart from all this my gran had also been a
tailor-from-home, stitching up nearly forty tough uniforms for government
schools every day, working from morning to night, for which she received a
meager (albeit considered princely at that time) sum of five thousand rupees (equaling
90 dollars) or so every year, which was more than what my grandfather earned,
the family being a lower middle-class one. Till today, of course, for all her
hard work she has been only acknowledged as another ‘house-wife’ and my
grandfather as the ‘single head who supported a family of six’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="color: lime;">According to me, she doesn’t need
acknowledgement to be made worthy; she already is worth infinitely. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: lime;">As I have grown up to enter from my childhood to
adolescence, I have begun to notice that time makes her older too. But both
time and life are prejudiced meanies; while I now get to grow taller, stronger,
and cleverer with years, my granny, I see is quite decelerating. She can no
longer keep up with me during walks in the park, she can no longer hear as well
as she used to, she had even to undergo an operation. No, none of these is
fair. I know that, with old age often comes physical weakness, and with
weakness would tag pain. No, I don’t want my grandmother to go through any more
pain; she’s been through enough in her life. Perhaps that’s why she’s been
praying more and more recently, talking about heaven and such crazy stuff and visiting
more temples than ever- though when I do algebra, she still tells me from
heart (with her remarkable memory power)
the formulae <i>I</i> have forgotten.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: lime;">Now, all I heartily wish and hope for is that I’d be able
always see the silly one-tooth-missing-on-the-front grin that she gets on her
face whenever someone speaks about any of her family- though I know that in
this terribly transient world, that’s perhaps not a practical wish. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: lime;">But even if my beautiful grandmother does leave me, I have
enough treasured memories of her wisdom and presence in my heart, to go on.
Most of all, I hope to carry on her legacy as well as she did.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-78823728292491986722013-05-01T04:44:00.001-07:002013-05-01T04:44:32.874-07:00Empowering less fortunate children- a beautiful experience<br />
<h3>
<span style="color: cyan;"><i>Hola guys!</i></span></h3>
<h2>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: cyan;">This is one recent article I published in The women's web (</span><a href="http://www.womensweb.in/2013/04/working-with-poor-school-india/">http://www.womensweb.in/2013/04/working-with-poor-school-india/</a>) about my amazing experience in a couple of schools in India. Tell me what you think, okay? :D</span></span></h2>
<div>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">--</span></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #464646; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">
Ever since I remember, I have been visiting India my homeland, for my yearly summer vacations. I have lived in many places, but wherever I studied, the ritual of visiting my relations back home wouldn’t be missed. As I grew up, I gradually began taking more and more notice of the profound differences between India, and Dubai. Every visit would have me saddened at how much children like me were missing in terms of luxury, education, and resources, or at how so many poor begged in the streets, the same streets as the ones in which the rich, who completely disregarded them, lived.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #464646; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">
A few weeks before last year’s vacations, I found myself dreading the visit to India- not only was it going to be boring, but it was also going to be painful- seeing again the children who deserve to enjoy as much as I have.<span id="more-17585"></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #464646; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.womensweb.in/2013/04/empowering-the-less-fortunate-a-beautiful-experience/poor-school-in-india/" rel="attachment wp-att-17712" style="color: #7ba46c; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="Poor school in India" class="alignright size-full wp-image-17712" height="240" src="http://i1.wp.com/www.womensweb.in/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/poor-school-in-India.jpg?resize=320%2C240" style="border: 0px none; display: inline; float: right; margin: 4px 0px 12px 15px;" width="320" /></a>It suddenly struck me that I should, instead of feeling sad , try to make a difference. I pooled all the money I had, and saved up determinedly the next few weeks, and started drawing elaborate plans for my initiative. When I’d collected enough, I shopped for all sorts of incentives I could use as a motivation for the kids with my pocket money, watches, calculators, earrings, pens etc. to give away.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #464646; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">
My idea was to approach schools – starting with the one in which I’d briefly learnt in when I was little- to deliver a leadership program to poorer kids aged nine or ten. This was inspired by a Sallyann Della Casa -founder of non-profit Growing Leaders Foundation who delivered similar programs to many well-off schools in Dubai on a professional level.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #464646; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">
Poor schools in India, I knew, won’t be able to afford air conditioning in summer, let alone such a professional motivation, so I adopted her guidelines, and principals and improvised on them. My father suggested that I might want to prepare a summary of my program to persuade schools of its benefits, so I did. The entire process seemed extraordinarily simple when I was still in Dubai, but on reaching Chennai, it was anything but that.</div>
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There were numerous challenges. It was only when my cousins asked dubiously, “Do you think they’d even allow a 14 year old student to <i>enter </i>the school premises, let alone speak to the principal?”, that I realized that there were many issues to be addressed. But I wasn’t going to give up.</div>
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I went forth anyway, starting with my small ex- primary school<i> </i>down the street. It taught many poor students, including the kids of my house-helper, for a brief time I had myself learnt there during a long vacation in Chennai- it was an amazing school.</div>
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I dressed acceptably (at the suggestion of my parents who felt that no school would permit a young wild-looking stranger in an outlandish outfit) and rehearsed what I was going to say to the principal.</div>
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The gate-keeper wouldn’t let me in. At least, not till I peeped through the gate and grinned my widest at the vice-principal sitting in the open room inside, who signaled bemusedly that the door be opened. I had to then explain my intentions to the vice-principal; she skeptically smiled at me all the way through, perhaps because she also had a daughter of about my age. And then she asked if this was a school project. When I replied not, I was allowed to meet the principal to re-explain my plan. I was finally allowed one hour with grade four and five kids on a Saturday- which was all I needed.</div>
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The session itself was delightful and educative both for me and the kids. First, the kids, about hundred here, were unwilling to reply to a stranger’s questions and return the smiles I gave them. But then they gave up the apathy surprisingly fast and enthusiastically interacted with me, shooting questions, agreeing with some, and responding. While in the beginning, not many kids raised their hands when I asked them “how many of you think you are leaders?”- By the end of the session, not one of them doubted their leadership capabilities; the success in getting my message through overwhelmed me.</div>
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The greatest joy was to see the most silent and withdrawn kids interact with zest; to see the warmth of happiness from every kid when they’re told they’re beautiful. The talk was meant to motivate their self-confidence, emphasize their specialty, about leadership, on breaking social barriers, on daring to try new things, and standing up against wrong practices like alcoholism (still very prevalent among the poor in India), among many other subjects. I ended the program with a story and a poem in English- this was meant to boost their language skills, but it ended up enriching mine too. While I asked them to guess meanings of certain English words, they taught me many new Tamil words as well. In the end, everyone was groping for my hands, and I couldn’t stop grinning as all of them chanted, “<i>thirimbi va akka” (come again, sister). </i>Finally I gave them the gifts I’d bought before leaving, and they looked as happy as I was feeling; it was a great experience.</div>
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Empowered by this, and armed with a letter of recommendation by the principal of this school, I repeated a similar session in another government school. These kids, about seventy of them, were even poorer, and tough it was harder to deliver my message; it meant more – hardly anyone else would let them know of their powerful leadership capabilities or give them new gifts, that made all the difference to me.</div>
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The third school being a bigger one, turned me down without consideration, because of my age and perhaps because I simply had no reputation or qualification.</div>
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After that, sadly, the vacation ended, but I am sure that the help I can do, is by no means, over. I have held on to every dime I can collect this year also, and am looking forward to improve upon and deliver even more effective programs or volunteer to make a bigger difference when I come to India this year.</div>
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Many schools might, like they did, turn me down because of my teenage and ongoing education, but I’d keep trying, for this program is not about me- it’s about doing something to empower other kids in the little way I can. I will keep going to draw smiles on the faces that deserve to be happy- it satisfies me.</div>
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An incredible message this experience has taught me is how much a little act that may not mean anything to us, can massively impact a less fortunate person’s life. Moreover, the process of dong something to improve and motivate others isn’t exerting, it’s exhilarating, enjoyable and rewarding. It’s the best way of showing gratitude for everything we are lucky enough to have and experience. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-2431752607672169522013-04-01T22:32:00.002-07:002013-04-02T23:31:43.940-07:00On Taboos: A Letter To Indian Parents<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
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<h3>
<br /><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><span style="color: cyan;">Hey guys!<br /><br />This is the latest article addressing all the issues kids in India either feel embarrassed, ashamed or scared to address their parents about. And negligence of these important issues is prevalent to some extent, in nearly every place in the world.<br /><br />My 2nd for Women's web--><br /><br />Tell me what you think!<br /><br />---<br /><br />There are a number of issues that <a href="http://www.womensweb.in/2010/05/parents-and-the-girl-child/">Indian parents</a> don’t address their children about and even more realities that they simply can’t digest. You can’t believe that your teens talk of crushes, alcohol, drugs, and other more unbelievable topics, but wake up, it is happening.<br /><br />1. The most prevalent problem is, parents want marks. They want marks in exams, an all-rounder kid, which is of course with a good intention of securing their children a good position in life, but often, the pressure becomes excessive. Children are of varying capacities, you can’t expect your child to get full marks in all subjects and still get gold medals in sports just because your neighbor’s kid does so. Your neighbor’s kid is a different individual from yours.<br /><br />If a children is dim or average in studies everyone says that it’s only because she didn’t study well enough, this is always cited as the reason. Study harder, I don’t know what you’ll do, I need the marks. Still no improvement? Go for tuitions. Still no marks? Something’s wrong with you, is the standard mantra.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.womensweb.in/2013/04/a-letter-to-parents-on-taboos/indian-parents-and-teen/"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/proxy/fps5fYZ5WuCqAcWKIZG3p33ZVhtB-oY_-2rb9xQbGKTISPmJGF3Hi4nWaM1wy1pp20xdMi8T-K_ryaYpoQRB8D4WIZ1e3njDfCZq2ewFsAptJSQ4VkMhkt2GPkySlxD_agJ9uIVmKpuStvEA19bdCdRpJQ7rgV6gWzXFcDI" /></a>The sad truth is that if your child isn’t naturally gifted enough in studies, no amount of hard work will be able to achieve the results you expect. This doesn’t spell that your kid is a total zero and has no future though, like many assume.<br /><br />Aren’t there other professions, other talents? Every child is naturally gifted in something. May not be in studies, but may in art, music, sports or something else. All these can be pursued as professions too; parents mostly don’t seem to understand that there are other careers than your standard doctor, teacher and engineer.<br /><br /> I am in grade ten. When people want to know about my future plans, first of all, they don’t speak to me. They ask my parents, like it’s them who’s going to live my life. And their question will usually go, “So, what is your daughter going to become- a doctor, or CA?” When my parents say neither, they’ll go knowingly, “Oh, so she’s going be an engineer. Wonderful!”<br /><br />Huh?<br /><br />There are so many friends in India that I know of, who want to pursue their own interests. Sadly these are repressed merely because they are not conventional. Parents need to broaden their perspectives and accept their child’s passion, not force something they don’t like upon them.<br /><br />2. Then are those who are lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender. Most of the adult public is aware of at least one of these groups. But they surely don’t show it. Put your nose up and it’ll go away, is it? People with different sexual inclinations do exist, they live normally, they breathe the same way as we do. There are quite some children who grow up falling into one of these categories. After facing insecurity, unacceptability, and fear, when they finally do pick up the courage to let their parents know of their inclinations, things only get worse. They are disowned, their parents look on them as if they were untouchable, and try to suppress their personality and coax them into ‘normality’- none of which is a solution.<br /><br />Another terrified question would be posed, “how would the society react?” Yeah, that’s one worth pondering on, because I’ve only seen adults themselves, mocking at transgender/bisexual groups, and movies ridiculing them. It is a shame that in India, these classes, to which any one of us might have by chance belonged to, are made fun of like a public circus show. Anyone or anyone’s child could easily belong to this category; it’s not an outlandish possibility. So we Indians face an inevitable question, “Would you accept your kid or any other co-member of your society if they were a LGB or T?”<br /><br />Stop neglecting this topic. Try to answer it.<br /><br />3. Next comes the ‘love’ versus the religiously right ‘arranged’ marriage. What is <a href="http://www.womensweb.in/articles/arranged-marriage-indian-woman/">arranged marriage</a>? A system in which parents fall in love with each other’s money, or with each other’s sarees, properties, behavior, or caste, and so expect that their children should fall in love too? Absurd.<br /><br />While I don’t say this system of marriage is completely flawed, because it often does become a success, and it’s a ‘fun’ activity for the parents and relatives to undertake, logging on....see the entire article on women's web itself! here's the link:<a href="http://www.womensweb.in/2013/04/a-letter-to-indian-parents/">http://www.womensweb.in/2013/04/a-letter-to-indian-parents/</a></span></span></span></h3>
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Heya ma dearies :D This poem got me the second place at Taaleem poetry award in The emirates airline festival of literature! <br />
Check it out, and let me know what you think! </blockquote>
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<br />
<h3>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="color: #e69138;">I decide you are my hero,<br />As I indulge in your flawlessly luscious stuff.<br />Your Shades crawl as the tingling flavors unite,<br />With, a fizzling burst of chocolate, like an angry volcano.<br />Effervescence as CO2 is released from your<br />Thick soft brunette mass- an exothermic reaction!<br />And then you dissolve into my mouth when I<br />Stuff you in, hungrily. Ah, your succulence!<br />Even as you flow down, your flavor lingers<br /> In my smacking tongue, my salivating mouth. My hero!</span><br /></span></h3>
<h3>
<span style="color: lime; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">But then- you cruelly invade my tummy,<br />Corroding its walls, with your treacherous treacle,<br />Betrayer! You nourish the evil parasites in me.<br />Appearances are only a facade, and so seems that<br />Fleeting flavor too, for now, only jiffies later, I can<br />Feel- not your saccharinity, but an excruciating ache<br />In my teeth; calling for an appointment at the dentist’s.<br />Now your definition evolves for, you’ve cost my time, diet<br /> And sparkly teeth. Yet I always remain unsuspecting fly,<br /> Repeatedly caught in your alluring, sticky web. Villain! </span></h3>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-43944043154980470342013-02-25T06:26:00.001-08:002013-02-25T06:26:10.004-08:00size zero not equals to 'perfection'!Take a look at the cover of any girls', sports, luxury, lifestyle or women's magazine, with a female on the cover. Most likely, that the girl would be size zero, if not size insert-a-negative-number-here. The entire world seems to be obsessed with this skinny look, which fashion magazines and media celebrates, wrongly, as 'the ideal' size. This includes teen girls' magazines, like teen vogue, girl's life, and most other magazines, that claim that it's their motto to 'boost' the teens 'self-esteem', while in real life they are actually pressurizing young girls by setting an ideal, a must-reach goal of an emaciated figure that is very hard, and even unhealthy, to attain. Most cliques in schools, following media's ravings, also define this skinniness as 'perfection'. The readership of these teen magazines mostly consists of ordinary, differently shaped teens, not real, haute bikini-bodied models, and yet this superficial image is what is worshipped like a religion. <br />
<br />
Promotion of skinny culture indirectly encourages eating disorders, boosting anxiety, and prematurely placing too much emphasis on little nine and ten year olds already making them beauty conscious, and so, robbing them of a carefree childhood. <br />
<br />
Following this crazy trend, many desperately try to shed off pounds the quick way-say, by starving themselves (then bingeing later), having reconstructive, weight loss drugs and pound shedding surgeries or by other means, which usually don't work out. Either that or they sink into a trench of depression, stressing and sulking about their flabbiness, and about not being underweight. Sudden, self-made skimpy diet plans, are adopted as a result, to put off all weight abruptly. But, acute diet plans to cut down skin, can severely damage our bones, putting us in danger of getting osteoporosis (a chronic condition where the bones become weak and brittle). <br />
<br />
Try entering 'size' in Google search. Before you know it, you will already by debilitated by a whole load of stuff relating to size zero- diet, food, designers, models, clothes, cheats, and what not. <br />
<br />
The real question is, is size zero actually 'perfect'? Not really. While it's one thing to be a naturally petite size zero while still eating all you want, is one thing, forcing this alien size into your body may well have the opposite effect. Moreover, the beauty of the body isn't necessarily defined by having no mass. No, curves beautify, muscles, and the right sort of fitness build strength and shape, and so do each person's natural physique. We all look, and are sized differently, to suit our natural persona well. The world would become too monotonous if everyone started puking out their food to make their bones protrude. It is ironical that while really poor children in the third world countries are dying of malnutrition, their much wealthier counterparts in developed regions are also starving of the same, just because they want to look undernourished. <br />
<br />
Take a look at the aftermath of eating disorders. In early 2006, Brazilian model Ana Carolina Reston, 21, died of anorexia and bulimia on the eve of a Paris photoshoot after living on a diet of apples and tomatoes. The death of Uruguayan model Luisel Ramos at the Uruguay Fashion Week in 2006 led to the ban on size zero girls parading at the Madrid fashion shows. Her father claimed that she had been fasting for days. The already skinny 22-year-old had been informed by her model agency that she could "make it big" if she lost a significant amount of weight. She collapsed died despite the efforts of an emergency team trying to resuscitate her. <br />
<br />
We are ourselves to blame for this size zero mania. Why would the top designers and magazines so actively continue featuring and supplementing diets and tips for this trend if no person cared to follow it? It is because we are so avidly following and falling prey to this glossy trap, and are consciously or otherwise promoting it ourselves, that it is being heralded. If every one of us learns to love our own body the way it is, instead of yearning something that we don't have, the skinny frame would lose all its rage, and that in turn, could lead to hundreds of lives being saved. For even today, young girls are dying, of eating disorders and starvation to achieve what is foolishly branded desirable. It is up to each one of us to fight back this degrading culture. Size zero, is way too praised, and glittery, but it definitely is not goldAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-80892025195961461642013-02-18T09:15:00.000-08:002013-02-18T09:15:24.654-08:00Why India's workforce has such great potentialMy first article as an NRI contributor at The Times of India :D <br />
Let me know what you think. <br />
--<br />
<a href="http://">http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/nri/contributors/contributions/keertana/Why-Indias-workforce-has-such-great-<br />
potential/articleshow/18553909.cms?</a><br />
<br />
A company involved in any activity primary, secondary, or based on human resource, will in most cases have some number of Indians working in it, may it be in any corner of the world. That India constitutes 15%of the world populace is a boon in disguise. Most companies now bank on India, Bangladesh and china for their labor intensive activities like construction, assembly, repairs etc. mainly due to the inexpensive pay, and the abundant supply of labor available in these locales. So, in producing massive numbers for manual activities, India stands with the rest of its subcontinent, and a few other developing countries from Africa, and South America.<br />
<br />
But as far as the tertiary sector, involving IT, engineering and technology goes, India stands alone. No other country in the subcontinent, or in the Far East (Philippines, Indonesia), Africa, or America, produces such abundant, skilled, English speaking, educated workforce, at relatively cheap rates. There is no other country in the world that meets nearly all these requirements as efficiently.<br />
<br />
It is a fact that the cost of employing, running, and completing a project in a developing country will definitely be more economic, and cut down the costs largely. A study in the duke university recently found that while roughly 70,000 engineers graduated in the US, 6, 00,000 graduated in China and 3, 50,000 in India. In the UK some 23,000 engineers are graduating every year. But India is producing eight times as many. Apart from such a huge jobseeker base, Companies from abroad, who complete their projects basing them in India, are, on an average, able to cut down on about 40-50% of their operation costs. This is probably why India is serving as a magnet to thousands of companies who are moving their bases here.<br />
<br />
Not that these benefits are unidirectional, or only for the companies. Indian jobseekers benefit abundantly, too. There are lakhs of new engineering graduates every year, and most of them struggling to secure employment. Apart from just generating employment, these MNCs and IT giants bring along with them, numerous benefits, like assured health insurance, education costs, better technology, and decent or great salaries. They provide windows for communication with the tech world outside the country, with new practices and methods. And after all, it's only the people who strongly desire to, that join a company, so naturally, it much, at least in the slightest, benefit them.<br />
<br />
Our government benefits too. Though the stipulated SEZs (special economic zones, to attract foreign investment) exempt companies from certain taxes, they are not completely freed from contributing economically. Eventually they do underwrite by generating foreign monetary exchange, and contributing to most exports. Som Mittal, president of the National Association of Software and Services Companies was quoted saying, "Nearly 35 per cent of our export revenues come from MNCs and captives and, therefore, we need to encourage them to set up their development centers in India rather than move to the Philippines or China"<br />
<br />
Because of their investments in infrastructure, MNCs also steer economic and structural development, accelerating modernization.<br />
<br />
Some companies even complain that this has led to an 'Indian mafia' or excessive domination of Indian workforce in their companies all over the world that are based elsewhere. Some even attempted vainly, to search for workforce from other countries, in hope of reducing some number of Indians from their company and replacing them with people from other nationalities.<br />
<br />
On an urgent project to find economical workforce, an IT company that travelled first to far east, and middle east, found about a hundred jobseekers, out of which only a few were fit to hire. Then, finally, on stumbling into India, it found a two thousand jobseekers, most accepting far more feasible wages that their former counterparts.<br />
<br />
Hence it is nowadays, fast becoming a sensible option, more than anything else, to choose India, or china, before any other place in the world- they offer such an attractive package, and a great growth potential, after all.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-3694776157412450002013-02-09T05:46:00.001-08:002013-02-11T03:24:31.429-08:00crushCrush<br />
Comes without a warning and <br />
Pushes you hard, down the ground,<br />
Defenceless.<br />
Crush<br />
Increases your blood pressure<br />
And colors your face hurriedly like<br />
A nursery kid in a painting contest.<br />
Crush<br />
Paralyzes your strong athletic feet<br />
And tickles you inside till <br />
You wobble like a klutzy jelly.<br />
Crush<br />
Looks so hypnotically hot <br />
That your head will be in the Sahara<br />
When you’re only still in Serbia.<br />
Crush<br />
May crush your fragile little<br />
Fist sized heart, ruthlessly<br />
By not returning your unsolicited favor.<br />
Crush<br />
Will speak honeyed words like an <br />
Angel from paradise, but when you would <br />
Be too frozen and, <br />
Busy looking at its beautiful lips,<br />
It will lose interest and move away.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-67079790452587202002013-01-10T06:56:00.003-08:002013-01-10T06:56:26.579-08:00carefree childhood<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Light dance,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Innocent smile,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stepping right inside,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every third tile.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bobbing that Puffy <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hair style, and laughing<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With those missing teeth.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Evanescently flippant moods,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But an everlasting curiosity<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
About the little things in life. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Filled inside with <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tender youth, this little<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Seedling, is squinting at the<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bright, glaring, raw rays<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of the severe sun,<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">For the first time.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-54767245368090104252013-01-02T03:35:00.000-08:002013-01-02T03:35:06.397-08:00what ails India's education system?hey everyone!<br />
Here's my article dated 26/dec/12 as published in The new Indian express, though that's bit edited, here's the original.<br />
P.S: Hope you have an extraordinary new year with new endeavors, and a lot of happiness!<br />
so, the world didn't end after all! :)<br />
----<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">India's is quite known for it's education system all over the world but the
problem is only that most of this 'good' quality education is provided in
private schools, mostly in urban cities, and even these schools can do with
some reforms. again education is not only at school but actually begins at
home. So everywhere, in homes and schools there are some things that, if kept
in mind, can secure a brighter future for India's youth, your children:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">1.Break the tradition of rote learning. Practical experiments cannot be
learnt through lab manuals, a language cannot be learnt through mugging it's
rules, and moral science cannot be learnt by scoring full marks in it's exam.
We have to break the traditional way of theoretical, textual learning and
replace it with a more practical, manner of getting educated. To make students relate
better to their subjects, do more activities, inculcate more projects and real
life applications, most importantly in government schools. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">2.people associate quality of education with the amount of things students
learn before the graduate from school. what people fail to understand is that,
it is not the amount the students learn that matters, but how well the student
understands every topic. even if only a few, but important, topics are covered,
the schools have to make sure that the message of the topic clearly gets
through. real literacy can only be brought about with more realistic ways of
teaching.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">3. marks are given too much priority by parents. students these days, are
seen learning, not for what they will gain from it to prepare for life, but to
score more marks to keep in pace with their parents' expectations. parents
should start encouraging the child, in not just the field related to marks and
exams but in more important fields like social relationships, leadership,
practical and communication skills.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">4. many want their children to study well so that they can secure a wealthy
future. but health is wealth. India has increasing obesity rates mainly because
of the children spending too much time in front of the T.V or the textbook,
which is not good for the overall development of the child. parents and
teachers must realize the importance of an active healthy life, and start
inculcating exercise and healthy eating habits in their children right from a
young age. remember parents, this will also ensure your child's future
happiness, because he will be happy, both with his money and with his body.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">5. inculcate leadership. every person has an innate leader in them and that
leader is capable of achieving great things. Encourage the child not only in what
you want him to progress at. Instead, support the child's natural talents and
help launch what he already has a knack for. also help every child realize his
unique potential. don't demotivate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN">6. don't expect too much. branding a child a guaranteed IITian the moment
he is born just because you want him to be one won’t help. every child has his
own inclinations and abilities, and every child cannot be the top ranker.
besides, there are other fields that exist in the world apart from studies,
like music, dance, writing, designing, sports etc. accept your child for who he
is. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">7. the government schools must improve their
administration. We usually find that, in private schools, the teaching is more
efficient. this is not because the teachers here get more salary. on the
contrary, these teachers are most effective because they are constantly
scrutinized by the private administration. however, in government schools,
salary, regular work, holidays every other day, good pensions and everything is
guaranteed. also, corruption is eating up about half the resources which were
meant to benefit the kids. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-49239405978636150642013-01-02T03:29:00.001-08:002013-01-02T03:29:11.511-08:00HOW TO HERD YOUR WILD TEEN<br />
<div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #464646; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 22px;">Hey guys, here's my latest article, just as published on women's web. check it out and let me know what you think!<br /></span></span></div>
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Teenagers can sometimes be the most difficult things to handle on earth, which is for some part, a valid point. But the fact is also that every parent has to go through this stage. What many parents (and articles) overlook, though, is the fact that every teenager is the same child they once were and are the same adults they will one day, be.</div>
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Acceptance and understand can make the treacherous ocean of teenage years a smoother sail for both parents and adolescents. Perhaps, if some things were ruled out clearly, life would be made easier for many parents who are convinced that they are raising wild rebels. <span id="more-15429"></span><strong style="font: inherit;"></strong></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #464646; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<strong style="font: inherit;"><a href="http://www.womensweb.in/2013/01/teenager-talks-about-parenting/teenager-talks/" rel="attachment wp-att-15431" style="color: #7ba46c; text-decoration: initial;"><img alt="A teenager talks" class="alignleft size-full wp-image-15431" src="http://i2.wp.com/www.womensweb.in/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/teenager-talks.jpg?resize=320%2C256" style="border: 0px none; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 12px; margin-right: 24px; margin-top: 4px;" title="teenager-talks" /></a>1. We are going through a transition. </strong>Adolescence is a time when we enter an entirely new arena, one hovering between the fantasy of childhood, and the daunting reality of adulthood. Teenage is a time when we are only planning our map and discovering new things, so that in another few years we will finally discover our own path. Parents have to understand this fact. Try not reaching conclusions about your teen’s character, for it is still constantly evolving. If you find this challenging, try reminding yourself of your own teenage years.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #464646; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<strong style="font: inherit;">2. Don’t set expectations too high. </strong>Be realistic about what you want your child to achieve. Everyone has different potential and not everyone is a wunderkind. Don’t <a href="http://www.womensweb.in/articles/handling-peer-pressure/" style="color: #7ba46c; text-decoration: initial;" target="_blank" title="peer pressure and parenting">pressurize your teen</a> to become something he doesn’t want to, or cannot. Importantly, don’t compare your kid with someone else, “why can’t you be like that friend of yours?” or “how can Aisha be so smart? She’s also 15!”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #464646; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<strong style="font: inherit;">3. Respect our space. </strong>Teenage is a time when new cravings for freedom and discord for independence emerge. It is important to respect this desire and not doubt your child’s motives excessively.</div>
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<strong style="font: inherit;">4. If you want to keep watch, that’s all right. </strong>While it is true that teenagers need some autonomy, it is also equally vital that parents keep a note of their child’s activities. As this is a tricky period when adolescents can easily get carried away with wrong choices, we understand that parents need to be informed. But it is equally important that you do this policing through straightforward means. Sneaking, finding out through friends, spying secretly will only trigger rebellion and insurgence. Instead, ask direct questions, talk to your teenager about the perils of immoral activities and choices and confide your anxieties openly.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #464646; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<strong style="font: inherit;">5. Be a friend, lose the doubt. </strong>Trust is a key relationship that has to be maintained throughout any relationship, especially in that between a parent and the kid. Constant skepticism will only lead to an uprising, withdrawal and retreat.</div>
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<strong style="font: inherit;">6. We are young, and wild and free.</strong> Or at least, this the time when we think that way. Allow fun time, a little bit of adventure, outing with friends, instead of being too restrictive, while at the same time ensuring we are doing our duties. Also, bonding, at family times, or setting up a fixed outing periodically can help teenagers and parents understand each other better.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #464646; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<strong style="font: inherit;">7. Accept the generation gap. </strong>Twenty first century youth are definitely different, with all the facebook-ing and crazy blogging culture but there are still some commonalities too with your time, parties and loud music haven’t changed. But remember, we cannot be the same teenager you were, or the teenager that every one of our friends is. Every person is different and so is every generation.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #464646; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<strong style="font: inherit;">8. Don’t forget that we love you.</strong> Whatever the quarrel, the anger and the row may be about; even teenagers are filled in the inside with a mushy heart.</div>
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Try mutual trust, shared relationship and understanding and you might realize we are really not wild, spoilt brats after all. We will be there for you in your older ages and we are attempting in every way, to understand things better and will one day, make you proud</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #464646; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">http://www.womensweb.in/2013/01/teenager-talks-about-parenting/</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-59023450985503622732012-11-25T02:25:00.001-08:002012-12-23T00:44:46.796-08:00Donning the shoes of Miss Have- it-all<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I decided I’d had enough, when I saw yet another pimple on
my face yesterday. The acne, my imperfections, was really driving me crazy. How
would it be to have the perfect looks, a flawless body, all the money, health
and fame? Ah, that sounds like a dream, doesn’t it?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Perfect according to me would be, to have a, say, green
eyes, and flowing light brown hair, with a slender, tall structure, and the
prettiest smile ever- yes, that should just have everyone under my belt. Say, I
had all this, and am sixteen – the sweetest and wildest age, and I was a mega
superstar too- a singer, a model, an actress, a humanitarian, everything anyone
could dream of. Of course, I’d have money pouring in, so there’d be no need to
nag my parents for pocket money, and I wouldn’t need to attend school either-
so no exams. All I have to do all day long is to flaunt my looks and pose for
paparazzi, sign autographs and perform in front of swooning fans. Every teen
and tween, every guy, would have my poster on their walls. A wardrobe full of
new clothes, thousands of friends, parties, shoes, the best cuisine to tuck
into, seamless body, all money and fame.
Sounds perfect?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, when I thought about it again, I found out it’s not,
really. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Maybe having this idea does seem appealing, with the number
of admirers I’d have and the media- but the fun would be lost if they’re going
to click my picture even when I pull real ugly faces at my brother, right? And
the thousand ‘friends,’ how many of them would be really what they act like?
Not many, I bet. And is fame really all that glossy? Yeah, everyone will be
able to identify me, so even if I do the slightest of embarrassing things, -
which everyone is prone to do- it would make headlines (the way JB puked on
stage, for instance) - not rad. Also, there will be rumors spoiling my
reputation; there will be <i>stalkers, </i>which
is scary. Not going to school wouldn’t be great, either. I actually enjoy
school, being with my friends, doing the normal things a teen would do. If you
omit the exam part, almost everything else in school is way awesome. And maybe, once I have the ideal looks, there
would be nothing left to long for, to sulk about, which would make life boring.
Then there is the modeling, acting and singing, Is it as easy as it seems? No,
even all those cool things require strenuous practice and hard work. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Even glossy professions like acting and modeling have their
own flaws just like their perks, and they may actually be different from what
we dream of. ‘Having it all’ would leave
us nothing to achieve, or yearn for. Perhaps, we weren’t born with the perfect
looks because our own looks suit us best. And of course, whoever we consider
perfect, it only looks that way. Everyone’s life has their own ups and downs,
and we have to be thankful for what we have.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Moral: When I’d get my next pimple, I’m going to be all
cheery about it. (publiched in The Gulf news-education)<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-89440882024176816262012-11-22T03:58:00.003-08:002012-11-22T03:58:53.972-08:00Say yes to individualism and eccentricity!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<b><u><span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Say yes to individualism and eccentricity!</span></span></u></b></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This year, more than half of my class changed or got new specs, and each one of the new consisted of a pair of nerdy frames. But nerdy glasses was the magnet for bullies only last year, because really, and everyone knew, that nerdy glasses didn’t make a person look incredibly good. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-size: small;">Why the change, then? Because, it seemed it was the ‘trend’of the season, sported by all the stars and celebs, who my Hollywood-smitten friends so regularly worshipped.<span> </span>Seemingly, with the advent of this new so called ‘trend’ everyone seemed to forget about the cons of those frames, because they frankly did not suit everyone, like they suited the celebs that advertised or spotted them. But oblivious to all that, and blindly following others, my friends ended up looking comical, pathetic, ridiculous or piteous. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Coming to this word ‘trend’ we realize the trend setters are most usually the stars and celeb endorsers or some Canadian teen pop star with blond hair falling down on his face and we the belie(v)ers and followers. I believe we are the root cause of this scenario, and that we shouldn’t be proud of it either.<span> </span>Why should we follow someone just because they are famous and everyone else is following them? Isn’t it that every one of us is unique, and we’ve all got our own style that suits what we are, may be it punk, gothic, or girly? According to me, the celebs are doing something different and unique and boldly, hats off to that. <span> </span>But I think that probably instead of being followers and copy cats of existing styles, we can set a new trend ourselves and with self confidence. <span> </span>If we pull off the s style we believe in with poise, we can set new trends too and be proud of it. everyone’s specialty comes out in a different outfit, every face looks the best with a set of frames (not all nerdy) and people should dress to suit their likings and convenience, not die of dread that their friends will mock at them just because they aren’t wearing the tote Halle berry had in her latest spotting. <span> </span>I ask of you is to Say yes to individual styles! Support individualism and eccentricity! Because like you, your attire and style should be special and, maybe, the only one it’s kind.</span></span></div>
<span class="HOEnZb"><span style="color: #888888;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"></span><br />-- <br />(education: gulfnews)</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1217626204974411761.post-88309462306997700352012-11-01T11:33:00.004-07:002012-11-01T11:36:22.584-07:00You don't know me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QF-cxeUDRd0/UJLAJCkB3UI/AAAAAAAAADI/kCxB9aUJZL8/s1600/m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QF-cxeUDRd0/UJLAJCkB3UI/AAAAAAAAADI/kCxB9aUJZL8/s1600/m.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">you don't know me, that's why you jeer</span></i></span></span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">at me, saying I'm too low and you superior,</span></i></span></span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">but you know not my will,</span></i></span></span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> my strength </span></i></span></span><i style="color: #20124d; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">or how i dare,</span></i></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">you don't know how tall i can be, </span></i></span></span></h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">when i rise from this sunken chair.</span></i></span></span></h4>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16232840829352729069noreply@blogger.com0