Stop this shame!!!

2012 - The year started with the heart wrenching stories of baby Falak and Afreen and ends with the tragic stop to a young life Damini, Nirbhaya or Amaanat - whatever you chose to call the brave soul. While they were set in different circumstances, all share a common sentiment - of hurt, of shame and of indomitable courage. The hell they lived through, is a testament of how low has the human stooped. The world watched helplessly as the innocent lives fought in their struggle for life before they could take no more. They affected most of us. We rallied for stringent laws, better and responsible policing, faster judicial processes but is that going to be enough? The ones who committed the ghastly, inhuman crimes, were one among us. As a society, we have failed ourselves. Always believed that a child's first school is his home and his first role models are his parents. We live a paradoxical society, where on one hand we worship female forms and consider them symbols of strength, wisdom and prosperity and on the other, the women folk are considered second in the patriarch driven society. Every other day, we come across battered women who are ill-treated in their family, and in the society at large. While we all condemn such ill-practices, they still continue unhindered, unabated. If we wish to see an end to the crimes against women, we need to change, we need to teach our children to value and respect life. If not, no matter what measures we take, there'll never be an end to it.

Damini, every girl in the society relates to your pain. It's never been easy being a girl in this country. Most girls in the country have had their helpless moments, some were lucky to escape, while some where not, some lived to fight, while some could fight no more. But the pain you've been through in this brief life you've lived, is unthinkable to say the least. Yet, the strength you have shown is an inspiration for all of us. May you be at peace now and find your rightful place among the angels.

Home calling...

11 long years, it’s been since I left the home of my childhood. The address still etched in my mind, the memories still vivid. I can still run through those rooms in my mind. Each corner, each shelf, each photograph, so clear. The noise of the incessant rain hitting the roof, the comfort of the winter sun in the front porch, the furry touch of our pet, summer evenings spent star gazing with my dad on his easy chair, the smell of the ripe oranges in the winter afternoons, still fresh in my mind. I wonder how long it’s been and yet I still remember... The mind, in its strangest of capabilities has a way to preserve memories close to the heart.

Home is where the family is, I always told myself, never believing it though. The brick-concrete pile up too, is part of the memories. And I left mine over a decade back, never to see it again. Since then, had 5 addresses to call my home, but never connected. It gives a sense of comfort to see places that you grew up seeing, meet people, you grew up talking to. 

Life is about a constant change. Old give way to the new. Old experiences make way for new escapades. But somewhere, in some teeny weeny corner of the mind, you keep pilling up those memories... 

Merry Christmas!

Just like many, December is the best time of the year for me. As a child, December was always a favorite. The dreaded exams would finally be over and schools would close down for the winter break. Last day of the exam was special with the pre-Christmas festivities. Christmas carols were sung, the nuns enacted the play of Jesus Christ's birth and we stuffed loads of goodies and finally it was time for the goodbyes to the friends and teachers. Back home, I had the liberty to do almost anything! It never felt better. The sacrifices made, had given way to indulgences... It was almost I had conquered the Everest :) A few days into the vacation, and I would start prepping up for the Christmas. Making greeting cards, shopping for little stars and bells that I could hang on my Christmas tree and the grand party with all my brothers and friends on the Christmas eve. We danced, played and teased around the bonfire until our parents coaxed us to get back home. It was a ritual for me too, to hang a pair of socks for Santa's presents and my dear mom never failed to tuck in some chocolates in them. That was Christmas for me. Nothing grand, nothing fancy. Simple yet very special memories. As I grew, I realized understood the true essence of Christmas. Thanks to the wonderful story by O'Henry "Gift of the Magi". Some stories remain etched in your hearts, while you forget some. The story of Jim and Della, their love and sacrifice, reflects the true spirit of Christmas - spreading love and joy. 

Have a wonderful Christmas and best wishes for the festive season!

PS. The fairy tales I would read myself to sleep had a very different picture of Christmas. A white Christmas. I would dreamily gaze at it and say to myself that one day I would see it for real. That's one wish that's yet to come true. Hope it does, someday.