Inability....

I think writing is one way of expressing your inability to do things which you earnestly wanted to do. A writer's best works are those in which he gives vent to all his shortcomings. This is one such post. In the past two months , i have quite often realised that being a 20 year old, educated girl , i am unable to do certain trival things which i had ,so far, imagined to be simple. So this post is the outcome of a month-long anger on myself for being so incapable and dumb.

It was a sunny evening and i was on my way home from college. I had boarded a crowded bus and was standing. The bus was filled with people who were going to some rural area which was far beyond mine. An old , illiterate lady was seated near the place where i was standing. An elderly man entered the bus and started questioning the lady, he called himself a police constable. After few minutes he was literally abusing her and the entire bus was watching this scene (including me). There were few educated men but they didnt even raise a question. I wanted to tell the man to mind his business, but i was sure that he was drunk and so kept quiet. Suddenly people said that another bus had come and it would start immediately, everybody got off this bus and went to the other one. I didnt know what to do,many big burly men were just watching the scene. I felt that i could'nt do anything and uttered a silent prayer for that lady and got off the bus. When i told this to my mom, she suggested that i could have reported it to some lady pc in the bus stand and then come home. I could not forgive myself for such a cowardly act. Whats the use in me debating about "Liberty of women" , when i just let a poor lady to be abused right in front of me. It still pricks when i think of it.

The other day i had got down from my college bus and was waiting for my father. A little girl came to me asking for alms. The girl would'nt be more than four, she thought begging was some sort of a game. She didnt even look at me, her hands were outstretched for alms and she was looking elsewhere but she kept on murmuring something, probably few lines she must have memorised. I was just looking at her and when her murmuring was over , she bent down and touched my feet. I was completely shocked. Till then, she didnt even look at me n ask for alms. She did it as if it was some routine procedure, murmuring few lines and then touching the feet. Before I could rummage my bag for few coins, she spotted a car and ran after it. She just pressed her nose into the car window and ran from there as well. It was so pathetic. Though in dirty clothes and matted hair, she was a little kid who wanted to run in the streets, play with butterflies and gaze at the stars. I felt she was robbed off her childhood. There are many such kids in the streets and this girl left an indeliable memory.

I still clearly remember an incident in a restaurant when I was twelve.The cleaner there, a boy of ten, was wearing a torn shirt. I asked my dad to get my brother's shirts and give it to this boy. My father replied that he would be chucked off his job if we gave him something. He said its better that he gets three square meals a day. At that time the boy's mom had come to see him. She had left him in the restaurant few days back and since this was all new to him, she had come to visit him. But the boy was worried about his duty and replied her precisely. It was such a pitiable sight.I almost cried there. And even now, eight years later, whenever i see any child labourer only that boy comes to my mind. We wanted to help him but could'nt, even then our little help would'nt have solved his problem.

Whenever i think of all these incidents, it makes me realise that i ve got miles to go before i sleep. My schooling has instilled a deep sense of social responsibility and love for fellow beings. Though such incidents make me feel im incapable of helping my brethren in trouble, they also strengthen my conviction to make a difference. I sincerely hope that in future that i ll definitely make a difference ,in my own little way, to the lives of such little kids.

A Daughter's cry....


Female foeticide.... An issue which has always stung my feministic instincts. . To me, foeticide is an evil which has to be uprooted from the society at the earliest . Every child is a blessing from heaven, its full of promise and we do not have any right to take away its life. Such inhuman acts question our basic moral and ethical values. .
This is a little poem of mine on female foeticide...


"I was cozily cuddled up
Feeling the warmth of your womb
Unmindful of the fact that
It would turn out to be my tomb.

From a mass of tissue
Growing up each day with your “bon succour”
Into a being full of life
Least expecting the great disaster to occur.

A child is a blessing from heaven
A girl child, even more precious
Protecting it from all odds is your forthright duty
How then could you commit a sin, so atrocious??.

A land where womanhood is sanctified
Rivers being named after women
But the birth of a girl child,
Is still considered an omen.

Let not this evil prevail
Nip not a bud before it blooms
Strike foeticide at its roots
Lest our nation will fall to its doom. "

She....

Sunday... The day started with the serene and tranquilising atmosphere of the church. I headed home n buried myself in the day's issue of sunday magazine.The column by Kalpana Sharma on Page 3 has always been my favourite. Her writings have always unleashed a renewed spirit in me, inspired me to do something for discriminated women.She takes up a wide range of issues where injustice is meted out to women.

As I was pouring through the day's issue, i wondered about a common opinion, the women of our nation do not have much role models to emulate. True!!.. I thought about myself, many articles describing brave feats done by women have aspired me , but i ve never found a strong lady to emulate.

My grandmother was beckoning me for breakfast.As she laid the idlis on my plate, I looked up at her. There stood a woman, a strong woman... An epitome of greatness... I wondered how an uneducated, village-bred woman could have crossed so many hurdles single-handedly ,when educated, civilised women of today easily succumb to domestic struggles of life.As a woman, she has always had the guts to speak for herself and stand up against anybody, even her near ones, if she feels they are wrong.She has endured alot and has sailed through the losses of life with courage and perseverance.As I turn back the pages of her life, I see that she has exhibited patience, courage and endurance in its extremest degree.

Even now, at the age of 68, she is the same old strong granny, young in spirit and never settling for the least. Though well-rooted in the customs of the past, she has blended well with today's trend and has always been an eager learner, curious to know about the latest breakthroughs. She is even prudent enough to advise her son-in-law about investments.

To me, she has always been an inspiring granny,a second mother,supporting me to scale great heights. She has never forced her views on me, she believes my dreams and encourages me to pursue my passions.I have never experienced the slightest signs of gender discrimination from my grandmother which has been experienced by most of my friends .

"It's one of nature's way that we often feel closer to distant generations than to the generation immediately preceding us."

Most true... I realised that if we spend time with our grannies at home, we can easily understand the trials they have been through and how courageous they have proved themselves to be in such trying circumstances where cant ever imagine ourselves to be in. My friend's granny had given birth to her daughter in a bullock-cart. We trumpet that we lack enough women leaders , but we miserably fail to look at a strong woman in each of our home.Their tales have enough cure for all our wounds and would definitely invest a sturdy spirit in us.

"The history of our grandparents is remembered not with rose petals but in the laughter and tears of their children and their children's children. It is into us that the lives of grandparents have gone. It is in us that their history becomes a future." ~Charles and Ann Morse

A TRIBUTE TO MY TEACHERS.....

I was busy preparing for my mid-semesters that i failed to notice the passing of a great day in the yearly calender - Sept 5th. A day attributed to the great minds who had shaped us. I realised it that night when I was in bed that it was teacher's day. "How did i miss such a special day??"- kept wondering.

Whatever i am today (if ever im someone!!) , I owe it to my parents and teachers in school and whenever anyone truly appreciates me for the person I am, my heart swells with gratitude for my Alma Mater.

Can I ever forget Ms.Frania (My teacher in class I) who used to emphasise on good english pronunciation even at that young age??.Even today I look upon her with admiration for her strong personality.

It was Ms.Sylvia who strengthened my christian faith and made me realise the power of prayer. The modest manner in which she carried Aherself influenced me alot.

Ms.Amala Bobby was my Science teacher in middle school. She helped us to tide over the ups and downs of adolescent age and taught us to value ourselves.

"You are young ladies , so carry yourselves with dignity wherever you go".These words of Mrs.Lucy Joseph still ring in my ears and they are my watch-words.

It was Mrs.Jacintha Vincent who expanded the horizons of my potentials and enriched my knowledge in english literature. She developed in me a liking for classical english, be it prose or poetry.

"Debt is a bottomless ocean"........ I am indeed indebted to these great souls for they have taught something beyond books and Im carrying those lessons throughout the journey of my life. The lessons they taught, the seeds they sowed have kept me in good stead and helped me to cross the obstacles of life with an optimistic outlook. I raised a silent word of thanks to the Almighty and prayed that such great souls be blessed bountifully so that they continue in their mission of imparting good virtues and knowledge.

"Empires fall ; Temples crumble

But

Works of education endure forever"