Its all about thinking

Color or colorless

I remember flashes. Flashes of something. A few strokes to go with sounds, minuscule shapes and intricate patterns. But not much, before my 3^rd birthday. Mum says that one morning, the 17^th of July, I woke up with white orbs for eyes. Mum has a soft voice and her faced is lined with wrinkles; she wont tell me, but I can feel…… I can always feel. Mother does not send me to school. She says “its an unhealthy palace.” For me…… that I could be exposed to germs and bullying. But I know what she is truly afraid of… me discovering and learning something that will push me away from her and break the walls that she has so carefully built around me. I read my book HARRY POTTER and GOBLET OF FIRE, a copy my mum bought for my birthday. I was tired of her reading out to me. I asked her for a copy in Braille and she obliged. She usually does that. I read about the Triwizard championship and imagined that I was there, next to Harry Potter, walking through the streets of Diafon alley and fighting dragons and listening to mermaid songs in the prefects bathroom, glancing at the colourful talking traits. And then the question comes to my mind. “mum” I holler. She comes quickly,her footsteps tapping against the rough-floor board. I feel her near me. “Mum, whats  colour?” I hear her grasp and I hear a soft “putt” the sound of a drop of water; but its not a water its teardrop. “mum why are you crying?” “oh, something got me in the eye”. It’s a thick sound; a liar sound. I chose to ignore it. I want an answer. “Whats colour?” I want an answer. You know what is colour. Red, blue, pink, yellow,green.They are all colours. I know she is trying to ignore what I truly want to ask, by the soft, “Shhh” of her wringing hands. “No, you know that’s not what I mean;what do colours look like mum?”I hear her pull a chair and sit besides me. I wonder what she will reveal. Will colours be as intriguing as I imagine? “Lorie colours are they are.. oh…” I don’t know what they are. I heard her rapid sobs an inch closer to her, hugging her. “its really fine mum, I really do not care” “I really do, but I rather not have mom cry.” “you deserve to know. Its wrong. So wrong!” she breaks down. I cant see her crying. Its me who is blind. I should cry. I walk out of the room, my hands gliding on the cold rod of the staircase as I walk down and open the door. The sunlight caresses my face, the wind murmurs. The grass tickles my toes and I giggle in spite of myself.  I plop myself in this backyard garden that father made for me. Mum retorted me how dad worked day and night planting flowers and ferns for me, though he was ill; the malady that took him away few days before I was born. I run my hands over the plants, feeling the soft petals between my fingers, imagining dad, how he must have touched the thriving pots of colours; how he wanted to create a place where I could find solace. Its then realized what colours are; its then I felt the meaning of them. They are vivid and bringing you immense joy and even if I can never see them, I can feel them.

    My colours are that of love, swirling around me. After all, I can always feel, cannot I?

THE TALKING SLIDE

THE TALKING SLIDE

It was bitter cold today, but this did not stop Polly from whisking down its bare back. The frosty metal sent shivers of fun through her. Faster and faster she slid each time she climbed the endless steps.  Up, up, up she went eager to swoosh along the cold silver slide. Polly loved to daydream while she road on the slide. She would close her eyes and envisage herself as a lovely princess on a white horse. On some days she would masquerade herself that she was a lost puppy looking for her mother. She wasn’t really sure what this meant. She fancied that she was really great at faking out things.

Polly continued hr trips up and down the slide. On what was may be her twelfth trip, a bizarre sound shot into the air. It was a very dire groan.  “What is that?” she exclaimed astonishingly, jumping off in horror off the end of the slide.

“Oh lord! Thank you! Came the answer over her shoulder.

“Who said that?” quizzed Polly circling round and round.

“I did”

Polly bent at the waist, jumped to one foot in awe and spun around.

She looked blank at the slide with her mouth wide open gaping in wonder as earth slipped beneath her feet. Two very doleful eyes peered at her with watery eyes. | “Thank you for getting off” uttered a giant mouth just below the teary eyes.

“My back really aches badly today”

Polly rubbed her eyes in dismay. Was this really happening?  She could not believe her eyes. Quickly she moved her eyes on  her mother who happily chuckled with her friend. Everything appeared alright. Polly glanced back at the slide.

“Excuse me” she muttered, did you speak to me?

“why yes I did.” Retorted the slide. I am extremely sorry if I startled you. But I cant take this torture anymore. Each and every day children merrily jump on me and race down my back.  It was fine when I was young and robust but I am now old and weary. I am not as tough and capable like my golden days. I absolutely adore children and especially you. Polly I shuuder when they dig their feet in my back. “ What can I do? Can you help me Polly?”

With that the enfeebled slide and began to wince in pain. His steps shook with each large wet tear. He pulled out a large white handkerchief and blew his nose wistfully. “if this keeps up I will soon be into a pile of steel and rubbished away into a pile of heap. I need some rest. The park is arranging for a new slide. Guess till then, I will have to be lionhearted. Polly stepped back in disbelief and blinked her eyes in amazement. It took her long minutes to understand. This weary kind hearted slide that provided years of enjoyment to children who made memories on it. Now the slide was asking for a favour. She felt dejected and important all at once.

Her tiny hand smoothly patted the aching steel. “What can I do?” Polly pondered for some time. She stepped towards her mother for help. “Would Mother believe me?” Polly gaped aloud. “A talking slide?” Polly was clueless and wondered how to help her friend.

THE GREEDY STRIPES

GREEDY STRIPES

As Rahul walked in the jungle he wondered and gaped at the trees which were so high that they seemed to receive messages directly from the sky. The sun shined brightly with its strong golden rays as he came upon a large tiger trapped in a cage. The villagers had caught him for stealing lambs.

The tiger looked sick and fatigued. “Hey boy” cried the tiger as soon as he saw Rahul. “ I am so thirsty please open the cage so I can get a little drink. There is no water here.”

Rahul was terror-stricken, he got cold feet and muttered “ but Stripes, if I let you out, you would pounce and eat me up.”

“Never” said Stripes looking suitably horrified. “Whatever makes you think I would be so ungrateful? I just want a sip of water that’s all. I won’t take long. I promise” he pleaded with teary eyes.

Rahul was a genial boy. With bitter and sympathy he opened the door and let the tiger out. The instant Stripes was freed, he sprang on Rahul with the greed of gulping him all up. “But Stripes” shrieked Rahul. “You promised you will not eat me up”

With hunger in his eyes “ I will kill prey for my food and it is no tragedy for me to eat you” snarled Stripes looking mean indeed. After much wailing Stripes agreed to pop a question to the first three people and ask was it reasonable on his part to eat Rahul.

The first to pass by was a donkey Mr.Smoop “Mr. Smoop, I set Stripes free from his cage, but now he wants to it eat me. tell me is this civil?”

Mr Smoop barely looked up and spoke in his gruff voice, “my barbaric owner always insists me to carry bulky  loads on my back and if I don’t do so then he smacks me up with his stick. This isn’t the end…he doesn’t even feed me suitably  with food that can give me some nutrition and energy and the worse of all is that despite all this he makes me do all his work. Humans are nothing but an ungrateful race. I won’t stop Stripes from eating you it will be just on less human in the world.” Commenting this he walked past…

Rahuls fear build up even more when stripes opened his mouth wide in hunger. He gathered some twigs, lit a fire and even put a pot to get boiled.

When Rahul puzzled him in hiss petty voice that what was the pot for, Stripes replied him in his stern voice, “heh! thats to cook and eat you up”

“Wait, that’s only one out of three people. Two more to go” cried allegedly.

Stripes reluctantly agreed.they strolled about and came across an old horse who lay tired beside a cart of heavy loads. Rahul went to the horse and asked, “Ms.Twinee, I just let Stripes out of the cage and now he wants to eat me up. Tell us is your point of view. Is this fair?”

She was barely in the condition to get up and answered in her husky voice, “There was a time when I was free to wander about and do whatever I wished to...but the day I met my wolfish master my life became a tragedy. He rode me kilometres and kilometres. i have also carried his children and grandchildren on my back. Now that I have turned old he only makes me ride his cart and toady when I was unable to go further he left me here to die. Humans use animals like a tissue… a use and throw! Nothing else. so In my opinion Stripes should gulp you up.”

Rahul spotted Stripes sharpening his claws at the tree. He was shaking from head to toe and stood dead in his track. He held his breath, took the courage and uttered, “okay this was my second chance still one more to go..”

Stripes grumbled in irritation.But he some how agreed. They saw a small girl passing by and Stripes called out her, “dear child, could you please come here.you look fare and just so I think you can tell give us the right answer. Rahul jusr freed me from the cage and being a tiger I want to eat him. Tell me can I eat him or I can’t?”

Looking around, the girl inquisitively asked, “cage? What cage?i cant see any.

“Yes, yes a wooden cage.”rahul cried anxiously.

“But how can I come to a conclusion if I never saw a cage. I just cant what are the two of you talking about.”

Stripes frantically said, “dear a cage,the one which I was in. you see….”

“Exactly that’s what I can’t see the cage.Rahul how can you set him free if he is already free?”

Stripes was gnashing his teeth in complete desperation.He commented that these humans are very dumb. Not to loose his anger Stripes took a deep breath.

“listen I cant tell you anything until i get an idea of the cage so could you please take me there?” saying these words she winked at Stripes who was love struck and merrily took her at but the cave .on the other side rahul had to drag  his feet.

At the cage the girl took over, “so here… lets start from the beginning Rahul and Mr Stripes start at the beginning. Show me where you stood and where Mr. Stripes was when you came along?”

“I was walking down this little path” Rahul replied snappily.

“Inside this filthy cage” replied Stripes

“Oh I would not think this cage is sizeable for you, Mr Stripes. Wont you show me how you managed to stay in with your mammoth body?” asked the girl with a pristine look.

“See I can get in and I was sitting here” Stipes leapt into the cage.

“AHHHHHH! So that’s where you were. But your paws can reach out. So why did not you come out yourself?” challenged the girl.

“I was unable as the door was locked.” Growled Stripes feeling quite uneasy at returning in the cage.

“Oh , excuse me,” announced the girl seeming stupid “ being human I am half-witted. I cannot conceptualize until you show me how. Will you show me how it works?”

Rahul pushed the door in. “Like this”

“And the lock” questioned the girl. “Where is it”

“Here” cried Rahul. And he shut and bolted the dor!

“Aha! So that’s it” the girl joyfully clapped her hands. “It does lock the door lightly”

“Rahul, now that the door is locked, I recommend it stays locked. As for you, Mr. Stripes you have been very wicked and ungrateful. I hope you are locked up for a very long time.”

Mentioning this girl took Rahuls arm and led him away.

PATRIARCHY RUNS IN THE INDIAN SOCIETY

PATRIARCHY RUNS IN THE BLOOD OF INDIAN SOCIETY

Indian society is ruled by patriarchal system. In this system men are the dominant figure and women are the subordinate figure. Women’s lives revolve around what the man determines and decides for the woman. Most women do not have their own voices and their life is in the circumference of men’s existence.

  There are three three levels of domination and injustice prevalent in Indian society: one is in poor sector; one is in the middle class families and also in the crème de la crème of the society.

In the poor sector women are beaten by their husbands. Due to their illiteracy women are not aware of their rights and bare these beatings quietly. The husbands are drunkards and also do not earn.. they force their wives to give their hard earned money to spend on drinks. These poor women are also sold by their husbands for a petty sum of money. They except their destiny and love their life the way men want them to…………

Now shifting to the middle class sector, the increased mobility of working women in the middle class has improved their social standing in a multitude of ways. In today’s world, working women of the middle class assume all the duties and responsibilities of a working middle class man, in addition to the tradition roles accorded to women in Indian society. A patriarchal society assumes the superiority and submits to the leadership of men. In such a society, though a level of independence is gained by middle class working women, they are still considered subordinate to their husband/father. Whatever advances in social position are achieved by women stand nullified by the entrenched patriarchal mentality. The reins of power in the household still remain with the male head of the family, despite the fact that the women shoulder as many, if not more, responsibilities.

   There should be a change in this system and women should be treated equal as men. Women should be looked as personality and not as a human for mere show. Women should not be judged on THEIR WEARING. 

  Its high time that society changes their outlook on women and treat them as individuals who demand equal respect in accordance to men  from the society.

ONE OF MY MOST MEMORABLE TRIPS

ONE OF MY MOST MEMORABLE TRIPS

In the hustle bustle of the city people wait for vacations to set off to place where they can unload their stress and fill them with peace. Holidays unwind our mind from the daily chaos and make our mind fresh inspiring us to work harder and improve our lifestyle. Holidays also give us an opportunity to explore the scintillating beauty of mother earth and broaden our horizons.

  Recently I had been to the COCONUT LAND OF India BEKAL, kerala. We departed in the afternoon train. As the train passed the countryside of Maharashtra  we marveled at the scenic beauty on both sides of window and the open green stretch which seemed to lay miles away. I was gaping with wonder at the huge coconut trees which swayed with the wind as its height kissed the sky. It was a mesmerizing scene as the sun set behind the hills and the only music was the bird’s song.

While heading to our hotel in kerala the sight of lush green fields and the winding road took me to a blissful world. After having a scrumptious meal we rested on the grass which faced the back waters of the hotel. The water was calm and was winding through a stretch of green forest. I was elated as my room was facing the back waters. i took a bath at the plunge pool then headed for the odissi , a south Indian cultural dance organised by the hotel. My family and I thoroughly enjoyed the performance.

Next day i was woke by a hint of light. The dawn had just broken. I sat on the swing staring at the beautiful sky as the sun rose fully in the sky. The view was picturesque. The mountains bathed in the glory of rising sun. I was enchanted to feel the morning sun on my feet. Soon we all headed for a stroll to the beach. The adhesive white water lashed over rocks and pebbles. I immersed my feet in the water and took a deep breath as the soft breeze carried the fragrance far and wide. We built sandcastles and then stamped, jumped, watched it broke and laughed remembering the old childhood days.

In the evening we visited the BEKAL FORT. It was built on the shore of the sea. We had the traditional sweet COCONUT WATER- popularly known as the south Indian refreshment.

We had a ball of time at the trip.

The next day we set out for Bombay. Deep inside with the feeling of returning here once again I wished how wonderful it would be if I could stay here in the serene, calm, quite and peaceful life of countryside, lavishly among the nature and not amidst the dirt, traffic and pollution.

I realized that nature removes boredom and elevates our spirits and enlightens our soul and refreshes it.

the struggle of education is bitter, the outcome is sweet !

" I quit" was written in a suicide note. Lucy a brilliant student from a premier engineering college had just ended his life. The pressure of living-up to his family's expectations got him. 
    
  Today's education system with its emphasis on marks rather than actual learning..... the cut throat competition to secure admission in so called good schools and colleges is where the bitterness brews. but there is an addition to the bitterness pill. 
       
    lets take the example of john who washes utensils at peoples homes to collect sufficient money to afford a good school. there are thousands of Johns who are toiling like adults and are unable to access quality education on social, economic and geographical grounds. the common thread in all the cases is STRUGGLE- the struggle to perform beyond ability and the struggle to aspire beyond affordability. this is the bitter part of education. with no immediate benefit in sight the school students prefer television to trigonometry and entertainment to English grammar.  it is BITTER INDEED !!
  
As education is an ongoing process there comes a time when students start en-cashing the time... reaping and picking up the fruits. And these fruits are sweeter than expected for the struggle that went into acquiring the education. For example : a MBA  student starts off and progresses better in his career than others; that is the time time when one realizes that all the years of hard-work and toil has transformed into unbelievable offers from the top notch companies. That is not the end of it. The better part of it is reflected in the social good too. Education imparts this quality also.

 We must brace ourselves for the elements that will discourage us and rather concentrate on the sweet end. Educationists and Governments across the globe are trying various methods to make the bitter part sweeter by reaching out to large number of disadvantaged people and making the learning process fun and interesting. 

As someone rightly said "if you want to enjoy the view, you have to climb the mountain first!"

THE LONGING ARGUMENT- ARE VIDEO GAMES AN ART?

VIDEO GAMES - AN ART?
No one has ever able to cite a game worthy of comparison with the great poets. film makers, novelists, composers, and painters. the concept of video games as an art form, is a controversial topic in the entertainment industry . 
the problem is the fact that videos games represent a very new medium and conform you traditional notions of the game as a toy children and are dismissed as non-artistic. that a game can aspire to artistic importance as a visual experience is accepted but games are a loss of those precious hours we have available to make ourselves more creative, cultured, civilized, and concerned. 
one obvious  difference between art and games is that you can win a game . it has rules, points, objectives, and an outcome; a story, a novel. a play, dance, a film are things which  you cannot win you can only experience.
hence games can never be art. their rules and goal-based interactivity dont explore the meaning of being human; for example the idea of versions of SHAKSPEARE plays that would allow for an optional happy ending would weaken the artistic expression of the original.......
the future fire rages are on and may change the very definition of art. 
SO WHICH SIDE ARE YOU ON?