The New Curriculum

1.       How many trees would make twenty little caskets?

2.      How deep would we have to dig to bury twenty little caskets?

3. Compose a nursery rhyme fit to be inscribed on twenty little gravestones…

Bang Bang Bang

His stained pistol sang

In ones and two’s, and three’s

We fell to our knees

What a bloody fest,

Then twenty of us,

Were laid to rest.

A tisket, a tasket

They put us in wooden caskets.

Dear Children,

Rest in peace, 

We are sorry we did nothing

to make this world a safer place.

tring tring

Some of my friends get other friends to call and wake them up on days they have important meetings to attend, or a flight to catch. I was never big on those – my mother woke me up or if it was really very important, I’d think about it so much my body clock would rise to the occasion – quite literally in fact.

Wake up calls are of many kinds, some have warm voices of special someone’s softly whispering “waaaake upp…it’s time baby..honey..sugar plum…wake uppp …” Some good samaritans gave up on their precious sleep to wake another, with an equally groggy voice.

Though sometimes we need to be woken up, even when we’re not asleep.

My wakeup call came this afternoon, very unexpectedly, from an equally unexpected source. I think it’s these particular calls that shake the ground you stand upon and make you want to sit down and re look at your life and the way you lead it.

I’m pretty sure they’re embedded in the blueprint of our lives,  these calls are the forks on the dusty road that determine which path this individual will eventually take. They’re like second chances or like stops at the car wash – to take the dust off your windscreen, to help you see better, you know, fresher perspectives and all?

So these calls are good, they’re necessary – to take stock. They may not be sweetened and cushioned and warm, but harsh realities are a much needed thing sometimes.

I got mine at a decent time – with the New Year round the corner. It’s a great time to start new ventures or simply get back to those you never made enough time for, but loved wholeheartedly.

I hope you get your call, we all do – eventually. 

Not the best piece of writing...

if i eat better bitter chocolate,

would the bitter part of me, better?

i bet not. 

..

..

..

err ...

Mother's (S)care

In my previous post, i spoke of child abuse...and in the list of family who can betray a child by abusing them...i left out the "mother" thinking...mothers can't hurt their children...why would they...?

I was so wrong...today i am disappointed, hurt, scared and have realized more than ever...that this place is full of cruelty. And children are most unsafe here.

A close friend of mine shared a video that left me dumbfounded. I wont embed it here, because i cannot give space to something so negative on my blog. I will however brief you about it...A malaysian woman (18 yrs) i think is shown beating her 10 month old baby...continuously...this is caught on a camera phone by a woman who's voice we hear telling this lady to stop...but this woman filming doesn't do anything to stop her...

She beats the child by kicking it, hitting her with a pillow, pinching her, pulling her hair, throws her cell phone at her...i couldn't sit through it. Watch it if you have the will power....Apparently shes in jail now, for eighteen months (i would have sentenced her to death). The baby, thank god, is safe and in foster care and is doing well. However, we'll never know about her mental health...the torture may manifest itself very differently later on.

Today,after watching this...my friend (who shared this video) and i have decided that we will have to do something for children in the coming year. In whatever way, in whatever capacity. 

This video shook the ground upon which i stand. It shook me out of this oblivion that i am in.

I feel like shit.

But it needed to be something so brutal to wake me up.

This Is For The Children

Those who know me well know how much children mean to me. When i am around them, my third invisible eye is keeping a watch on them. Just to make sure they are safe.

I wish this invisible eye was big enough to keep a watch on all the children of the world. You know, i wouldn't need this kind of "super power" if this was a secure and safe world...dreaming of something even close to it, is an Utopian thought.

I have been fortunate to have interacted with a large number of children. Those with 200 watt smiles shining through dark gaps (from missing milk teeth) to those with excitement glistening in their eyes having written a six lined poem with an A A B B rhyme scheme.

So the "ideal child" has a happy childhood filled with birthday parties and strawberry icing on chocolate cake.Filled with visits to the zoo and merry -go-round rides, filled with tall sand castles on the beach and games of "house-house" on rainy days. The ideal child has 20 albums full of photographs, neatly pasted with captions in a neat cursive handwriting. This is probably how a childhood should be.

Now the camera slowly zooms out of this happy scene...out of focus...and shift focus to sad eyes of a child. Have you seen a sad child? Notice how they won't make eye contact with you, their eye lashes is all you will see. Some even have dark circles from sleepless nights, nightmares, torture...

I left that last sentence unfinished, because if i was talking to you (in person)...that is probably where i would have a lump in my throat. A lump of pure guilt. Guilt and shame for silently watching and not doing anything to safeguard the lives of our children.

I was watching this documentary 'Child Of Rage' - A Story Of Abuse
http://pinterest.com/pin/237001999110659687/

It is about a little girl who has suffered assault and abuse at the age of one...ONE! Say that in your head, three times over... did you feel a chill down your spine? Isn't it hard to fathom? What kind of beast would sexually abuse his own daughter? He must have been really twisted. And stories of a similar strain are thousands in number. Fathers, uncles, aunts, grandparents, tuition teachers, nannies...the list is endless. You feel most betrayed when it is your own family member who torments you.

This documentary shows us the dark repercussions that such an episode can have on a child....even when they are a baby. As they grow older, they have no sense of right or wrong, no conscience, they're so full of pain that now they don't feel anything. They are absent of all emotions. This little girl of 6 tried to kill her brother, many times, but in vain.With piercing eyes and a matter of fact voice she tells her therapist she wants to kill her brother, and her parents. She pierced her pets at home with pencils and killed little birds by breaking their necks.

This is how dangerous it gets.

There are plenty children being abused every day, right now, as i type this and as you read this...

Around us are child abusers. All those who have little children working in their homes. Instead of going to school and playing on open fields, they are folding your clothes, making your beds and cleaning your toilets because you are too busy slashing fruits on your ipad to even give a flying rats ass.

I could go on talking about child abuse because as horrifying as it may sound, there is so much to say!

Though i don't see the point of doing that. I have been compiling a bucket list, and one of the points on that, is to "really get down to doing something for children"... because they're too young to help themselves.

I still don't know what i will do, and how i will even begin...but it's time will definitely come.
And until then, i will make sure i raise my voice against child abuse. Of any kind.

Today i raised my voice, and that seems like an okay place to begin with. I hope that you will too.

?

Have you ever attended a seminar on say...the benefits of homeopathy as opposed to alopathy and the talk was good.  You didn't sleep through it, but there was some point that the lady mentioned and you have a question about it...It bothered you through her entire speech and now you want to ask her that question..

You're now repeating that question in your head, framing and re framing it, wondering how people will react to it..."is it too silly?...hmm...maybe it's silly...but..no....i shouldn't say anything"...and while you walk out of that auditorium, that doubt pricks the back of your head so hard, and you end up feeling quite ridiculous. If your motivated enough, you will probably get home and google it. 

The point i'm trying to drive here is... we're scared of asking questions because there will always be a few who will judge it, and then judge you. Or snigger - "hah, he doesn't even know that! where did he grow up?!" 

Adults go through this, and children go through this all the time. If amongst a class of 15 really smart students there is one who is a slow learner...god help that poor kid. Sometimes even teachers make remarks such as, "don't ask silly questions, read the text book!"

I ask a lot of questions and many are extremely "silly" according to others. I think it's totally fine, as long as i'm clearing my doubts. I have been judged, laughed at...not that i feel bad...not anymore at least. 

So, this question is for you.

Are you a person who welcomes questions? Do you have the patience and the humility to listen and respond to questions without making a face?. 

According to me, no matter what the content is, questioning is brave. 

Parents

"I want to be like my parents and i also don't want to be like them"... yes, a sentence with bipolar views.

However, this makes enough sense to me. 

Most of us, (at least the lucky few) get to live with our parents for a considerable amount of time. As we grow we observe their behavior, we understand what ticks them off, we know the right times to bring up heavy topics, we know when to crack a joke and we know when to leave them alone. 

We know so much about our parents, that we don't realise we're becoming like them. Their habits, gestures, become ours. Their way of speaking, and doing things becomes a part of us. I'm not saying, we're carbon copy's...but there are parts of them, that shine through in us.

But, would i want to be a carbon copy? How would i evolve if i didn't let go of the parts i didn't like about them?...How would i be a better or more evolved person if i was a mere replica of them. 

And so...i choose what parts of my parents i want to keep with me, and nurture...and what parts i want to throw away, because it left a bad taste in my mouth, or i felt hurt and disturbed. 

Parenting is hard, it is the toughest job ever. To take care of your children for life, that's bloody tough. 

And taking care doesn't restrict itself to providing food, shelter, education, clothing! What about emotional care? conversation? Sharing a meal, playing a board game? Taking a vacation? Those are what make good families, and happy children. Families that really "stick". 

I think i digressed a little, but you know what i mean?.