Archive for the ‘ Letting it all out:) ’ Category

#PressforProgress-  #IWD2018

8th March 2018

“Why do you need to celebrate women’s day”? Some (men) ask. “Aren’t you (in particular) getting equal rights to study, to work and to live”? “Yes, I have. We have come a long way, we acknowledge that. I (in particular) have been lucky, that my parents decided to educate me, raise me the best they could offer, and without much partiality. I have to admit though I cannot always ignore the whisperings, behind my back, when I take any unconventional decision; from people and my own relatives blaming it all on the freedom my parents gave me. I cannot ignore many lewd and unfair remarks that I have heard over the years; all that seemed to have come because I am a girl, a woman. I cannot ignore that my parents have had to be extra careful, extra protective, extra tensed all my life because I am a woman and they have to keep me safe. I admit that I have been lucky that I could choose, what to read, where to work and when (and whom) to marry. I cannot ignore that so much of our efforts at home or at family front go unappreciated because “that’s’ what women are born to do”. I cannot ignore that people expect us to fit into a certain role and perform certain duties without our consent. I cannot ignore how we are expected to keep quite at our own discomfort because the society will never acknowledge the pain.

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Ghouta

26/2/2018

Pain is universal; it doesn’t have any language or dialect. Neither is their any color, caste of creed to pain. One small cut or a small bruise hurts me as much as it would hurt an Indian, a Rwandan, a Syrian, an American or a Russian. In Ghouta, news resurfaced that there are millions of people, and CHILDREN, living through airstrikes, bombings and shelling day in and day out. This has been going on for years and years now. So many children have died and many more have been scarred for life; both physically and mentally. These children don’t know, why countries they have only heard names of are shelling their building; some even have no clue about which countries bombs killed their family and turned their future into rubble.

You talk about world wars. You talk in length about how Europe suffered during the dark days. Yet, the pain of Ghouta; the cries from Syria and from all the parts of the world where humanity is bleeding; doesn’t seem to affect you. You can easily turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to the pain. Is this what your Gods have taught you? Ignore other’s pain; un-hear their screams and un-see their wounds? Or does your god tell you that only the wounds of the followers of your god should matter to you? People from these parts of the world don’t matter, do they? They become less of a human, is it, if they fall on some other less powerful parts of the world? You can ignore them easily at your convenience and continue being happy in your smaller cubicles, with your smaller life and smallest- almost insignificant heart. Is that so? Or maybe it is more convenient for you to look at the evidences; the updates and maybe type an “Amen” or two in the comment boxes.
ghouta

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Invocation

(a request from this loving daughter to her loving parents)

7/7/2014

Let me fly high like a bird;
Let me soar and take new directions;
You have given me my wings;
And taught me to make this world my home;
You have made me who I am;
Given me all these values and beliefs;
Now dont ask me to cease being me;
And exchange it for a naught;
Freedom and respect are what I want;
Now dont make me trade them off;
Let me wander, let me choose my path;
Let me make my own mistakes and find my worth;
I dont know where these winds will take me;
I wont make promises nor any predictions;
I might give it all up and come home;
Or I might fight and own it all;
But let me live and grow by my heart;
And please dont panic that I might loose;
A race I have never wanted to run;
A compromise I dont want to make;
A strange nest where I will never belong;
Trust me when I say that this is what I want;
To fly high; achieve more and stay the way I am.

The Dying Rose!

24/2/2013

Well, it was there on my work desk early in the morning. It must have come from some distance, promising happiness and joy, planted to add beauty and fragrance to this world. It was beautifully red, as if a heart full of love had bled somewhere and the love had trickled onto the flower. Painfully beautiful! And fresh as rain! It brightened my day, added more to my happiness and lightened up many people’s faces as well!

The day went by and I put it in a glass full of water. The rose stayed fresh and beautiful, awe-ing my heart every time I darted my eyes from my screen towards it, and making me happy at the same time. There may be billions and trillions of such roses in the world, beautiful than this one yet this one was special in itself. And when one such rose could make me so happy, I could only  imagine how much happiness the trillions of roses, exchanged on that day, must have had added to the world. At the end of the day, I wanted to take it home. But thought it looked prettier there. And I didn’t want to risk damaging it. Continue reading

Plight of youths!

September 15, 2012

“Youths” If you google the word, there will be more than 795,000,000 results in less than 0.39 seconds. Read any national daily, the word will be mentioned at least twice. Policymakers, leaders, social-workers, writers all love the dearly. “Catalysts of change”, “Backbone of the country”, “Pillars of the nation” are how youths are defined, attributed and referred to. Youths, who together make about 18% of the global Homo sapiens population, are the major focus of any system or ideology. Because youths are a good resource for any country, if a country invests on youth, it ensures sustainability of the country. Globally, Billions of dollars projects run on youths alone. Name any area, you will find many youth clubs, networks and organizations dedicated overtly to build the capacity of youths. Come August 10, the whole world focuses on youths; with the whole day dedicated to youths, many competition, program, trainings, events will be organized globally and locally for youths. Why are youths important? The youth is the future, and timely, effective investment in youth is the key to making that future prosperous and viable, both economically and socially. The future is changing rapidly. The trend of change is so dynamic that within years, we have moved from tapes to flash drives, from desk phones to touch pads. The change is dynamic, inevitable and the youths are the agents of these change. Youths can accept the change and acclimatize the society with the change. I am a youth myself, a 22 year old; with all the zeal to bring about good changes and the grit to hang on till I make my mark in this “youth-friendly” world. I was quite lucky to get some of these trainings; prove myself at such competitions, learn from various occasions. We travel around, and take part in seminars, and when we cannot, we google around and take part in webinars but learn anyway. In this information age, with all the “youth-friendly” opportunities I and my fellow youths strive for knowledge, find opportunities at our fingertips, learn, share and grow. Lucky us!

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Remembering Ram Mama..

1st July 2012
Some people have a way of touching lives; blessing others with their presence. These people need not be magicians or superheroes…. simple day to day people; who transform lives with their simple acts of kindness; concern and immeasurable care. Sometimes, a mere sense of justice in them can cause a drastic change in others lives. They can be your one of you kith and kin; a friend, a mentor, your boss or a mere stranger. And they are essentially always normal people; day to day human beings.
Today is my mama’s 3rd death anniversary and I am sitting alone in Sri Lanka, remembering him. My mother’s brother, my Ram mama was a simple human being with a family and two daughters; he owned a shop and he smoked and drank as well. But then whenever we had problems, he was always the first one to come to our rescue. Whenever my mother got worried, he was the one she would go to. May it be a mere tiff within my parents or some grave lurches; my mama was always the one to hold us all. And it was not only us; my other aunts, other relatives; some richer than him …all of them, when needed help would turn to him. It was not about money or power; it was about empathy; about love. He could feel our pains like nobody else did and even if he couldn’t help, he would find some way, find others who could. When I was small, he had once caught serious jaundice. He got hospitalized and we were very close to losing him. But then thanks to all the prayers and wishes, he miraculously recovered. He had stopped smoking since then. In the added lifetime, he kept on doing what he did. He never said anything to others, never asked for anything back; never even pampered us. He had his own ways of showing his care. I remember, once it was his daughter (my cousin)’s birthday and I was invited for the annual night party. I was returning from my college and it had rained. I had my umbrella so I reached there anyways. Upon reaching their, my other mama asked me if how I hadn’t met Ram Mama on the way. ”He went to fetch you with umbrella; he was scared you would get wet and sick, since you are always getting sick.” Later, he came back. He had carried an umbrella for me but hadn’t bothered to take his raincoat and while searching for me on his motorcycle; had managed to get drenched completely. Continue reading

My last flight

March 31st, 2012

It is an awesome feeling to be in love, to have a partner, to chirp mindlessly to each other and to prepare to bring our kids into this world. In our case it is seasonal. When the spring starts, the feeling of love also blooms within ourselves and we start searching and courting our partners; flying, soaring, finding homes and laying eggs. We were quite late this time; however we decided to build our nest on a yellow wall inside human shelter. It was a flower basket actually, that we chose; but the flower neither smelled, nor withered. But it was dry and warm; just as we needed and we had it right across our entrance window. Earlier there was no one, there in that shelter. A lady and a dog would be there downstairs and at night a man too. Later a girl started coming for night and leaving early morning. Maybe it was her nest too. She never bothered us; she would pretend as if she didn’t notice us flying in and out; but sometimes I could see her putting white cotton balls in our nest and sometimes she would put a plate of grains below our nest. Maybe that was her way of acknowledging us; giving food and keeping us warm. Though we lived in harmony, I could hear a big, buzzing sound whenever she stayed in her shelter, within her section of nest and she always sealed her entrance, when the noise was there.

We laid eggs; 3 pretty brown eggs and I started warming them. I would sit on eggs and my hubby would bring me food. Sometimes, when he got late I would make do with the grains the girl offered; sometimes I would fly inside the shelter and find insects for myself. This particular day, it was very hot. I sat on my eggs the whole day and the girl was also within her section of shelter the whole day, occasionally coming out. Soon, it got dark and my hubby hadn’t arrived. I got restless and hunger was driving me mad. I flew inside the shelter but couldn’t catch a single insect. There was no offering from the girl either. Then, the girl came out of her section and left the door ajar. I perched on the door and peeped inside her section. It was lit, like day. The humming sound was there and something was moving in the center. I hoped I would catch some food, so I decided to check in. As I flapped my wings, something pulled me towards the center. It was like being sucked by a vast air current and I hit the part of the moving thing. I was instantly thrown somewhere and as I was falling I could hear the girl screaming. I was numb; the pain was blinding and I could feel the blood oozing from me. More screaming and then the lady came upstairs. Now, the girl was wailing and so was the lady. I couldn’t move. After what seems like an eon of pain, the man came and held me in his palm. He said something and the females sighed. Then, he slowly touched me, held mu hurting wing, and examined me. It hurt when he lifted it, though he was trying not to hurt me. He then applied some sticky paste on my wounds; while the girl fed me with some sweet, salty liquid. I wet my beak; thirsty as I was, I was scared too. They were humans and yet so close to me. I was broken, helpless so I stayed still. From the corner of my eyes, I could see the two females putting same white fluffy things over my nest. “Don’t hurt my babies,” was all I could think then; as he carried me downstairs and put me in a box.

They had wrapped my broken wing in a white material. After sometime, they left me alone. When all human noises ceased and darkness dominated, I slowly tried to get out from the box; but to no avail. I was broken; I couldn’t fly. Even lifting my wings was tedious.  I slowly dragged myself off the box; my babies…I had to reach them somehow. They would be cold without me. But the hall seemed longer now; it was not so long when I flew in it. But now, it was dawn already by the time I made halfway the hall. Human noises buzzed again and the lady came to me. She scooped me in her hand and kept stroking me gently. Scared, I decided to stay still again. The girl came down a few moments later and both sat there, staring at me. They fed me that liquid again and later the man put me outside, below the sky, in the garden. He would sometimes put me inside the box and sometimes on the cold ground. But they left me alone. Soon, my fellow friends found me and my hubby also came. But they just stared at me. They were helpless too. I was broken, I could never fly and they couldn’t help me. Continue reading

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