This unfamiliar .. This never before
This unfamiliar .. this never before,
this shaking of the hand..
This shiver of coldness.. and its encore,
this loss of thought,the loss of cognition
This emptiness within wherever i stand.
That something.., i for so long.. so fabled,
That strength, that pride, weakened and i humbled
That scary spineless shudders I shuddered,
That life not so mine , and hers too i embittered.
..chakrapani
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
We..,Mere Spectators..
Things across India are not at all like that in Slumdog.., We are prosperous ..Yet not everyone here is a millionaire.. So is the case in the rest of the world !
And a rupee makes a difference to this lady .
Question ... should one give alms at the traffic signal and encourage it ?
Encourage the organized market of begging business which never comes to the fore.These beggars are never begging for themselves. There is a syndicate of kingpins and rich thugs who ferry around and deploy beggars at designated traffic points and temples ,collecting days earnings the beggars get a commission/food in return.
Fact .... NGO's and social reconstruction communities try in vain to protect the young kids who get sucked into this maelstrom of organized begging. If some people do wish to mend their life, they face the wrath of such kingpins who function under the aegis of powerful politicos.
Question... So what do we do ? How does one show direction to the little kids begging at street corners ?
Question ...How do we teach them vocational trade and craft ? Help them become self reliant and self employed so that they could earn money , to sustain themselves. How do we stop the nurturing of potential criminals and their petty thievery .
Question ... How does one fight such an organized enterprise protected by the selfish ?
Fact... Like everyone, I have questions and no answers.I am an average individual.Maybe I have a little enterprise , some ideas, yet I have no energy left with me in these times of economic duress(Sic !).
Fact ..I am in the end , a mere pathetic excuse of a spectator !
Things across India are not at all like that in Slumdog.., We are prosperous ..Yet not everyone here is a millionaire.. So is the case in the rest of the world !
And a rupee makes a difference to this lady .
Question ... should one give alms at the traffic signal and encourage it ?
Encourage the organized market of begging business which never comes to the fore.These beggars are never begging for themselves. There is a syndicate of kingpins and rich thugs who ferry around and deploy beggars at designated traffic points and temples ,collecting days earnings the beggars get a commission/food in return.
Fact .... NGO's and social reconstruction communities try in vain to protect the young kids who get sucked into this maelstrom of organized begging. If some people do wish to mend their life, they face the wrath of such kingpins who function under the aegis of powerful politicos.
Question... So what do we do ? How does one show direction to the little kids begging at street corners ?
Question ...How do we teach them vocational trade and craft ? Help them become self reliant and self employed so that they could earn money , to sustain themselves. How do we stop the nurturing of potential criminals and their petty thievery .
Question ... How does one fight such an organized enterprise protected by the selfish ?
Fact... Like everyone, I have questions and no answers.I am an average individual.Maybe I have a little enterprise , some ideas, yet I have no energy left with me in these times of economic duress(Sic !).
Fact ..I am in the end , a mere pathetic excuse of a spectator !
Friday, March 06, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
CHALK POWDER AND CHORUS !
A year ago, I had asked myself I had torn an A4 size full scape paper and opened a pen to start jotting all the stuff that held me back.What was it that was stopping me.What were the obstacles that i had to overcome.Two hours went by and not as much as a word on the sheet, I cursed myself . Not because the ball point pen nib had gone dry, but because I had no idea what had stopped me from doing this thing all these years.This thing ,that I now realize gives me such joy that knows no comparison.Sitting on a wooden bench in the headmaster's room, there I was... retrospecting.
An hour later , the bell rang and I got up, picked up two full length chalk pieces and on the way to my class broke them into one inch lengths. Some kids saw me walking up the stairs and scurried into the class shouting "Arey ! Spoken English .. spoken English class.. saar vostunnaru (Hey dudes !Spoken English Sir is coming !) ". Couple of kids approached me saluting "Good morning Saar !" (Yes ! an actual Salute !) and ran into the class. Stepping in I was greeted with a loud and boisterous greeting as 45 girls and boys stood up smiling and beaming.Most of them stretching and some almost falling onto the floor because of cramps from sitting on the floor for hours together.I gave a huge smile ,greeted them back and mumbled to myself, "Time to get my hands dirty ".
An hour later I walked out . My hands dry felt dry and rough smeared with chalk powder.I reach into my pockets for the hand kerchief .I find no use for my hanky as all the chalk has already decorated my black jeans.I don't mind. I'm happy.I wish to clap my hands to dust off whatever calcium that's left on my hands.My mind objects and I let it be.
The kids gather around me excited throwing questions at me about the singing/English speech competitions that I have announced for the next class.Me and other volunteers have planned on contributing cash for the gifts for the winners and the participants.The kids are no longer reluctant and scared to approach me.Yet there is still a lot to be done to make them confident in front of their classmates, forget the outside world.No decent footwear, some without any.No proper uniforms and clothes, torn books and bags,dirty and disheveled hair,yet gleaming faces and beaming smiles is all that I can remember.
We have to get the kids to get interested in education and make them confident that it will do them good.Most kids , boys especially, work part time and are the sole earners of the family.Their parents and siblings depend on them for the daily work and labor that they do,in that these boys are no longer afraid of their parents.
Some kids are good and eager . Encourage them.Some are reluctant and uninterested, What do we do about them ?.
Me and my friend drive back from the school.I have important work to be finished in the rest of the day. I cannot take a class for the other government primary school that I had been visiting. The 8th standard girls are wonderful there.They exude a lot of energy. They are more curious and quick learners than this class.They giggle, laugh , listen, write down stuff and interact more.
I am sorry I cannot visit you today.
It was 3 hours a week till some time back.And now an hour a week is just not enough !
Chakrapani
A year ago, I had asked myself I had torn an A4 size full scape paper and opened a pen to start jotting all the stuff that held me back.What was it that was stopping me.What were the obstacles that i had to overcome.Two hours went by and not as much as a word on the sheet, I cursed myself . Not because the ball point pen nib had gone dry, but because I had no idea what had stopped me from doing this thing all these years.This thing ,that I now realize gives me such joy that knows no comparison.Sitting on a wooden bench in the headmaster's room, there I was... retrospecting.
An hour later , the bell rang and I got up, picked up two full length chalk pieces and on the way to my class broke them into one inch lengths. Some kids saw me walking up the stairs and scurried into the class shouting "Arey ! Spoken English .. spoken English class.. saar vostunnaru (Hey dudes !Spoken English Sir is coming !) ". Couple of kids approached me saluting "Good morning Saar !" (Yes ! an actual Salute !) and ran into the class. Stepping in I was greeted with a loud and boisterous greeting as 45 girls and boys stood up smiling and beaming.Most of them stretching and some almost falling onto the floor because of cramps from sitting on the floor for hours together.I gave a huge smile ,greeted them back and mumbled to myself, "Time to get my hands dirty ".
An hour later I walked out . My hands dry felt dry and rough smeared with chalk powder.I reach into my pockets for the hand kerchief .I find no use for my hanky as all the chalk has already decorated my black jeans.I don't mind. I'm happy.I wish to clap my hands to dust off whatever calcium that's left on my hands.My mind objects and I let it be.
The kids gather around me excited throwing questions at me about the singing/English speech competitions that I have announced for the next class.Me and other volunteers have planned on contributing cash for the gifts for the winners and the participants.The kids are no longer reluctant and scared to approach me.Yet there is still a lot to be done to make them confident in front of their classmates, forget the outside world.No decent footwear, some without any.No proper uniforms and clothes, torn books and bags,dirty and disheveled hair,yet gleaming faces and beaming smiles is all that I can remember.
We have to get the kids to get interested in education and make them confident that it will do them good.Most kids , boys especially, work part time and are the sole earners of the family.Their parents and siblings depend on them for the daily work and labor that they do,in that these boys are no longer afraid of their parents.
Some kids are good and eager . Encourage them.Some are reluctant and uninterested, What do we do about them ?.
Me and my friend drive back from the school.I have important work to be finished in the rest of the day. I cannot take a class for the other government primary school that I had been visiting. The 8th standard girls are wonderful there.They exude a lot of energy. They are more curious and quick learners than this class.They giggle, laugh , listen, write down stuff and interact more.
I am sorry I cannot visit you today.
It was 3 hours a week till some time back.And now an hour a week is just not enough !
Chakrapani
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
