A Parallel World Of Rape- Part 1

imagesIndia is growing, from a developing country to something.

The ministers and politicians say it’s towards a developed country, like the States perhaps? What has the States got that we don’t?

 Is showing the country’s progress on sheet of paper our only aim?

Is the rise in GDP all we can ever think about?

 

‘Every drop in the ocean counts.’ Today I shall prove how. It all starts from a single entity, from one drop. One Indian.

That’s all it takes to mess up an entire nation. Yes, I am criticising. From the time an Indian is born in today’s date all he/she ever looks around to find is struggle . Struggle my friend, Is great. It makes you a better person, teaches you to stand on your own feet. But wait, what are we learning from the struggle?

We’re learning how to cheat, we’re learning that numbers and figures on a piece of paper is more important than our values, dignity and purpose. From childhood, all a child sees is wrecked houses, unorganized system, bad roads. The only feeling he grows up with is hunger instead of love.

Then he is put into a school. A school that runs on donations and the MP of the state. He shall be given free education , so to say. Hey! The country has to improve its literacy rate doesn’t it? So there he goes into school where the teachers are dominated by the principal , the principal by the chairman, the chairman by the management and the management? If you can guess, A Politician.

That’s how, one little child who’s mind is bubbling with creativity and imagination,  The hands that are capable of creating wonders and reaching the sky beyond the rules made by the selfish mortals called ‘Adults’ are suppressed. His hands are tied and his mouth incapable of expressing opinion. Oh, did I mention we have the ‘Right to Speech?’

So this little child learns his math ( Whatever is prescribed by the board and whatever the teachers are asked to complete within a given time period).

He also has to learn political science, geography and history of the country, he ‘learns’ , he tries.  His fertile imagination allows him to think of what the badly printed text has to read…”Non violence, lush green fields, democracy…”

He’s lost.

Why? Because every time he looks out of books he sees murders, guns , trash everywhere and corruption.

So this little child looks back into his books imagines the India he reads about.

That is his version of a fairy tale. A good dream, one he’s never had.

Then of course comes, ‘Language’. His mother tongue, great poets, writers print their stories. He reads but doesn’t understand. The teacher shouts at him, the exams are approaching! He’s scared, and so he leaves the text book as a whole turns to a guide and the ‘questions at the back’ .

“Learn the marked ones, she said they are important!” He learns them, goes to the examination hall.  Realizing his friend was right, jots down all that he had learnt and there,  a perfect score!

His mother is happy, his father gifts him a pen his grandfather had once owned, in the ‘British days’. The society calls him ‘Intelligent’, he’s achieved what he had to.

Twelfth pass, ninety percent. Bravo!

The little boy who now sits deep somewhere in his soul is still eager, he wonders, imagines, thinks, analyses and wants.

The ‘intelligent boy’ took over the ‘little boy’.

He learnt his ‘political science’ so now he sits in air conditioned office taking bribes.

He learnt his language well and so he is  now the speaker in the parliament and abuses anyone who raises a voice against him.

He’s great, he’s successful!

But is that him?

Because the little boy still sits, wondering, hoping, scared because his powers had been subdued and abused.

That, is rape.

P.s – This is just one kind.

Whispers In The Cacophony

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Every rain drop whispers as it seeps into the soil,

But you don’t hear it.

Every bird whispers notes scripted by the gods

But you don’t hear it.

Everybody beats a heart,

But you don’t hear it…

 

  Where are you lost? Are you that busy? Or are you that deaf? Even the deaf feel the rain, see the birds .Then where are you? Why are we waiting to tell someone we love them and at the same time waiting to be loved?

The busy roads,

Nullify the whispers of the toads.

Even the gods have come down,

But all you do is give them a frown!

The river still flows,

The cows still mow,

But all you see the colour of the crow.

Listen to the whispers in the cacophony of life

You’ll know life is beautiful,

You’ll know there are souls who believe,

Stop trying to be always so independent,

Togetherness is the nature of men!

Once in a while,

Hug, kiss and smile.

Hear the heart beat of those close to your life.

Listen to the whispers in the cacophony of life

The smile of a baby whispers happiness,

But you are too busy earning.

The cry of a girl whispers attention,

But you are too busy running behind someone else.

The first footsteps of a toddler whisper a start,

But you are too busy baking perfect tarts.

The dog’s wagging tail whispers companionship,

But you are too busy on face book.

The trees dancing in the wind, whisper songs of joy

But you are too busy downloading music.

Books whisper immortal truth,

Your mother’s eyes whisper love,

Your father’s hands whisper support,

Your sister’s anger whispers concern,

Your brother’s teasing whispers possessiveness,

And your inner voice?  Whispers bliss.

Everything is whispering to you and me

Only if you could see!