Parent an orphan child!

There is nothing more horrifying in this world than being a child growing up without a mom and a dad. The child takes shelter and lives in multiple charity centers, not knowing parental care at all. There is exposure to constant hunger, torn and used clothes, poor personal hygiene and sanitation, and pathetic education. I have also heard of gruesome stories of few filthily evil caretakers having laid hands on some of these children to satisfy their uncontrolled sexual urges. They have to suffer all of this in silence - in addition to the excessive disciplining. Life has its own way of treating the innocent and the good in the most unbearable way.

The child cannot share too much of whatever she goes through with anyone. Trust is an altogether different equation - as her mind reads and memory knows. It is depressing to see a beautiful young mind that is meant to fly freely like a happy butterfly - kept under lowly subjection. There is insecurity covered in smile, restlessness masqueraded by the quiet and abuse that goes unnoticed in extreme obedience. People from outside come once in a while to see them, show them so much love - but they leave in some time to go back to their homes. Some children who want to leave as well, try to make their escape. But the world outside is more cruel than the world within the walls of the orphanage - and they land in deep trouble losing it all.

From all the time I had fortunately spent with the orphaned kids, I know for a fact that life on the other side is not so easy. There have been times children have cried their hell out to take them away. Few, after knowing that you can be trusted, open up and speak about sexual abuse. There are things that I have seen with my own eyes that have triggered new perspectives and shaped ideologies. My heart has ever since started beating to the honest wish that no one in this world should spend his/her childhood as an orphan. Every child deserves a home, a mom and a dad.

Time has come - to stop acting as though we never noticed any of this, to have some passion to do good, and get into real action. This is a humble call to strongly recommend the advocating of child adoption - across societies and cultures. One might find obstacles to this from the highly conservative lot whose minds are mostly corrupt with old love-less ideas of the past and other rants on practicalities. Keep them all out - when you make any decision rooted in love. To do something selfless and nice outside the restrictive rules guarding the circle of life - would make one special, bold and adorable. We need to stop limiting our causes to mere talks and allow love to guide our action.

How long would we love only the things that are our own? What really is the use of giving heavy lectures on love and other wonderful things - if we cannot extend our arms and have the heart to call the mean and the rejected things of the world as our own? Love goes beyond the inner craving that looks for 'what's in it for me?'; it goes beyond blood, race, culture and even national boundaries; it is driven by the ever-burning passion that cannot be quenched at all; it magnifies happiness and brings merriment to a weary soul; it gives without expecting anything in return; love embraces all, opens eyes, lights lives, rescues people from the shackles of bondage and allows them to be free and happy. They rightly say - there are no unwanted children, just unfound families! Please open your home and heart to a child and be blessed!

http://www.adoptionindia.nic.in/

Don't be sad!

It is very easy to fake your smile and happiness in front of the world. And it is very convenient to lie about a lot of stuff just to portray yourself to be a strong person on the outside. It might feel like liberating for a few minutes to resort to doing sinful things to momentarily get rid of that killing guilt. If you truly want to make an assessment of your self, go stand in front a mirror and look at yourself when no one is watching. Spend some time, contemplate, stand still and stare into who you appear to be. I am sure you would start crying after a point. Thoughts would cross your mind, distractions would accumulate, an eerie sense of all the hurtful feelings would pile up and take hold of you. Yes, it is such an annoyance to bother your mind with the past and be sad on the inside.

Ask yourself - how long are you going to skate like this? Why do you want to give in to passing pleasures hoping that you would get relief from all that keeps bugging your mind and heart - by doing things silencing the outcries of your heart? If you are sure what you are doing is not wrong at all - why do you want to hide them from the world? I plead with you like how beggars do to please be careful in not toeing that dangerous line. Think about the consequences and eventualities - they come after you and no one escapes them. It is time you understood - what makes you sweat is probably not the right thing to do. There are better ways to deal with sadness - however horrifying that could be. May be it will take some more time for you to understand. Or even longer. Or that you probably know it, but still have no option other than continue living your life the way you do - doing things that your soul doesn't really accept - so you clothe them in lies, sporting a numb conscience and pleading not guilty. You can probably think what one knows doesn't matter and what one can prove only matters. But dear, it is not about who can know and what they can prove. It is about you. Only about you. Tell me, why are you sad!

Are you sad because something makes you feel that you are so wretched and evil? No, you are not. Absolutely not. No one is a wretch and nobody is evil. You have to just open your eyes to understand and see how beautiful you really are - even with your flaws and shortcomings. You are an art - complete in its exemplary sculpt and perfection, but only with the tears that run down your cheek, the scars you carry and the wounds you hide. You wouldn't easily believe me if I told you - what you see as something ugly within you actually adds flavor to your otherwise sulking soul! Trust me, there is no one like you and you are special - viewed from every angle and every way. So don't listen to what people have to say, don't give heed to your own harsh self-critiques - please don't be so mean to yourself. There is a race to run and win. Beat them all and be the champ. Be always happy and say ta-ta to every inward disturbance and distress.

Tough times are necessary in life to make one strong. But you should not allow them to burn you down and consume you completely. I have been through depressing situations myself - hunger, bitter cold, being alone in a strange place for long, betrayals, riots, close-to-death experiences, accidents and a few more. I truly do not consider myself as a good person, there are so many pitfalls and I deal with all of them regularly - trying my best to overcome. But still, I have somehow survived all the tempests so far. The tree , thankfully, has not fallen down yet. In truth, we should be happy that we have to go through all these - or we would be living life in mediocrity without any real meaning and gratitude. Bitter times actually make you become better.

So why don't you forget yourself and the world around for a while? Why don't you just stop thinking and give your frail hands to me so I could hold them for a while with care! Why do you want to lie down in the muck like a dead frog! Get up from where you are stuck! Take a deep breath till you feel the warmth in your heart. Smile a little. A little more. Let me see that gleam in your eyes. Take comfort on my shoulders, so you feel the heaviness lighten. Close your eyes. Hum the first song that comes to your mind and see how all your burdens vanish like disappearing dew. Now tell me whatever is in your heart. I shall sit next to you and silently listen to all that you have to say - with words or without. I am not the type who advises on matters touching human emotions. Yet, I would only tell you one thing if you would like to do it for me. Yes!, you say and here I go - 'Place your hand next your heart, look at the skies and say - Thank You God! for everything - be that for good or for bad.' I am sure this objective assertion would fill you with peace. May you find your happiness and never let go of it.

Why!

Why do you look at me that way? Why do you crave so much to spoil my nights? Why do you want to electrify my heart and pull out the musical strings of love from its shy chambers? Why!

It is magical how desires stick to the heart - first caressing it all over and then making it bleed like flood from a broken dam. It is sweet how words pleasingly canoodle the heart - seeking permission to be spoken. The dreams that slowly open the eyelids, the nights that wet the lips, the dew that breaks the buds - turning them into flowers just before daybreak. Do these not tell you that it is time for me to hold your hands? Why, then, do you withdraw - but with a smile? Tell me why!

Something strange tickles me too much, goes away and then comes back again to play with me some more. My cheeks and lips are both adamant that they would only listen to the language of your kisses. Would you, so, please come close? Closer still. The excitement that fills the air for the first time, the obstacles to reach you that are built using lilies from the valleys - so the more I stumble and fall, the more it looks funny and beautiful, the gap that reduces inch by inch making the two pair of lips to meet in the end.

Ah, I fall prostrate as the most ardent fan of your breath-taking artistry! How do you manage to intensify the beauty of your countenance by a hundred fold day after day? Oh, the radiance that flows from you - fries my eyes and heats up my spirit. And the combo of your laughter and stare truly creaks my heart open, sending seismic waves to displace my tectonic plates that have been staying quite all this while. Why do you do this to me? Why! 

Strong As Death!

The death of a young boy. The eight year old who tried to cross the road to pass on the message that his mom had written down in a piece of paper to the pimp who lived across the street, found himself stuck under the wheels of a speeding pleasure car. There was enough blood spilt. Before anyone could reach there, he gave up his ghost. Indeed it was a dark, gloomy evening. 

The man in the pleasure car held a powerful position and was rich enough to silence the crowd - because people feared him. He threw them cash. Plenty of cash. We are in such dangerous state of rottenness that we wouldn't mind numbing our conscience and killing morality altogether in order to save our face. Money, as it goes, could buy anything. There is absolutely no value for life here. The man wanted to speed up the burial before news got out. So he gave his mother two lakh rupees immediate cash. There was no police involved. Only a handful of people were present for the funeral service which ended in less than 15 mins and the body was taken to the graveyard. Within two hours, one beautiful life was totally extinguished and there was no sign of the boy having lived in that place for 8 long years. People there did not seem to bother at all. There was absolutely no sense of loss, no one to mourn the death or shed at least a few drops of tears to comfort the prostitute mother.

We could easily dust off poor people treating them like dirt, with a sly 'move-on-who-the-hell-cares' attitude having no regret whatsoever and go on leading our fake lives like nothing ever happened. Woe unto us, I say, for we shall verily grow weary and drown - for our lack of kindness. Woe unto us, for our lives shall be filled with desolation - for being disrespectful of the lives of others. Woe unto us, for there shall come a dark time when we shall seek refuge in all places and yet shall find no help anywhere under the sun.

One might argue that there is nothing wrong in what the rich man did! He did recompense for his misdeed - paying in lakhs. What else do you want him to do? Well, there are two things one must not fail to notice. One, the rich man did not feel sorry for the death of the young boy. He just threw his money not with an intent to recompense, but to hush things up. Had no one noticed the accident, he would have probably driven away very fast without stopping. Two, he had actually come to that place to have sex with another prostitute. Rumour has it, that the mother who now weeps for her child was once the most famous of all the prostitutes and the rich man used to visit her more frequently to taste her flesh in the past - at a time when what hides beneath her bodice was more tender and firm. So, one cannot also rule out the chance that the rich man could probably be the real father of the child who he just killed. Yes, things get more dirty when we dig in the details. They say - you shall know a tree by its fruits and a man by his actions. But when our actions lack humility, conviction and sincerity, we cannot be justified by any means.

There was just one person who wept for the child all day and all night. The boy's prostitute mother. He was her first-born. There were other children too - four in total (now three) - from strange men. But this boy was her favourite child. He was an obedient son and loved his mom so much. The story goes that there was one instance where he almost bit off the penis of a man who was having sex with his mother. That was the only time he happened to see lewd things with his own innocent eyes. It was two years back. Though he did not understand much of what was happening, he was certain that somebody was hurting his mom and he did not like that. After this incident, she was very watchful of the boy not getting to know about what she did to win bread for the family.

She wept, wept and wept. No one could console her of her grief. She mourned the death of her child to a point where it affected her mentally and she was no more stable. Yes, she became hysterical, gave herself up to strange mood-swings, started yelling and throwing stones at people, did not take care of her other children, refused to have sex with men, brought down the business of the pimp who in turn hit her hard and left her to bleed from her bruises atleast once a week. Everyone started calling her - retard! She was subjected to public ridicule. Even at this sorry state, some strange kinky men would reach out to the pimp so they could have sex with her forcibly - beating her up so badly. When the children would enter the house, she would be sitting like a ghost totally lost in her thoughts, with un-explainable scars and bruises everywhere. No one could read her mind. Life was extremely harsh on her, that - one day - she decided to commit suicide. And she hung herself from the only ceiling fan in her house orphaning her three children.

She was given a grand funeral. So many people attended the service, spoke highly of the prostitute mother who took away her life mourning the death of her son. There were so many good things spoken about her. The way she used to give away money that she earned from prostitution to pay for the education of few of the school going kids from the slum, the kindness with which she greeted the elderly people and took them to hospital whenever they were in need, and the constant love she showed to all the disabled people living in the slum. Her grave was not a fancy one but a simple heap of mud, and over that stood a cross and a placard. The placard carried this beautiful Bible verse written in local language:

"Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like a blazing fire, like a mighty flame." 

Song of Solomon 8:6

Sometimes, the way the story of our life ends might not be all that great. Our minds could force us to think that we deserved a better finish. We need to quickly grow out of such depressing thoughts. Truly, it doesn't matter how we are doused. But it does matter how we burnt when the wick was still wet with oil.

What kills me?

There could probably be a million things about me that are completely wrong. Some nay this assertion and advise that my lifestyle has always been good - so I need not see myself in bad light. But a person's lifestyle choice, unfortunately (against all the societal clauses), cannot determine if one is good or bad. Being a virgin and not having touched alcohol or smoke - in no way - can tick and qualify a person to be good. Goodness, my friend, is not a bodily proposition, it is that of the heart. It depends on what is in your heart, and how your mind can come out of its inherent vices and get itself wrung over the rightful ways of your heart. I stand as an example to this. A bad example that people should learn from, and not admire and venerate. So yes - I am a sinner, a terrible one at that and there is no hiding of that truth.  I personally struggle with so many mistakes every single day. Have always petitioned in my silent prayers that I be purged of all my sins and be made a better person. Every night is a nightmare when your soul questions you on so many things. I have been constantly wetting the pillows of my bed where I lay my head to rest - with bitter tears, but still find no relief. Oh, that I have hurt! Oh, that I have failed to be prudent! Oh, that I have been utterly foolish! Oh, that I have lost the innocence of my mind! Oh, that I have lowered my stature! Oh, that I did not hearken to the outcry of my conscience and have not kept the integrity of my heart! When will these battles of my mind end? When will I find peace? All I wish for is that I move an  inch closer to being a nice person at the passing of every night and day!

I am generally known in all my friend circles as that crazy guy who lends a quick helping hand and takes risks for others, though I have truly not done great things for anyone. But whenever I have gotten an opportunity to do simple and small things to make people happy, I - to the best of my knowledge - have always suppressed all the menial human urges to expect favors in return. In all truth, I have never run with an intention to make anyone obliged to my quirks. No, I detest such thoughts. I am not shrewd enough to apply political sense to the things I do. However hard that I have tried, I have also not been able to be selfish or be safely diplomatic - the result of being habitual in doing things from the heart without applying too much sense and mind. I agree that these are not great things one should be proud of. Hell yes, most of these character traits of mine have landed me in deep trouble so many times. But the bigger problem lies in the fact that I have always looked for that basic sense of respect. Yes, I confess that I have expected people to show some respect - not the Mahatma kind of respect, but the simplest of respects any lowly human would rightfully deserve. That, I understand, is a very bad thing and has been one of my greatest sins. The desire to do good to others should come without having any expectation whatsoever - even in terms of respect and I have verily failed in that. I am trying hard to train my heart to grow up and reach that stature where even if I knew that I would be treated in a bad way later, I would still follow my heart and do good.

Anger is another sin. It blinds your mind from thinking straight, breeds ego, makes you wag your tongue little too much, increases fissures between people, and triggers you to sin willfully. If you know the trick, it is very easy to make me angry. There are certain principles that I take very seriously and follow. The trick is that if you happen to mess with any of those, you would see me reacting. But I would never tell anyone the actual reason behind the anger. This sometimes confuses people. Giving up on principles and striking a compromise is wrong. The only thing that can be done is to make myself slow to anger. Reacting to the wrongs ought to be the last option and that should be done only after being sure that the outcome would be positive. The best way to deal with such situations, now I understand, is to remain silent and just walk away the moment you see things that do not please your eyes. Fighting other people's battles even out of pure intention and honest concern can land us in deep trouble.

If you put me in a situation that is very sensitive and complicated, and that I have never been exposed to, I would tend to reach out to friends to sincerely take opinions in trust - just to be sure that I don't wrongly assume things and make mistakes. Here is where the mistake is. Right or wrong, you need to figure out things yourself. Or if you cannot get it, you should just leave it and go. Because, most of those who you call as friends are really monkeys from that cat story they taught us in kindergarten. They say things to you, go say different things to others, then judge you and put you to total shame. You will have no idea what went wrong where, and because of your inexperience in handling these weird complicated situations you would be pushed to say things that they themselves have trained you in. The mind-blocks they have created in you would have shut down your understanding of the matter. Only after the dust settles will you understand that the information you provided them was actually manipulated, twisted and turned, and that you have been thoroughly mocked and insulted. These monkeys have to be identified and ties with them need to be cut instantly. I have also quit myself from being open about so many things. Now I run for the corners to sit in the quiet with closed eyes. It is sad that people and their mistrust have silenced my soul, but there is much peace in not trusting anyone.

You don't have to beat me to kill me. Spit a few words on my face and that will do the work. Words kill me. Guilt kills me too. Guilt, in having hurt others. Guilt, in not doing the right thing. Tears also kill me because I strongly believe that only the most cruelest of people can make others cry. I am a weak person who can instantly die of self-reproach. All I pray for is that I should not be a stumbling block to the happiness of others. My sins are as scarlet and I wait for a renewing that would beautify my otherwise ugly life. To the kind God I humbly ask, that I may please be forgiven and be washed of all my sins.

Tell me what you want!

Show me the world and tell me what you want. I shall get it for you. If I cannot, I shall pack and go searching for it, and make this pursuit my newly-found purpose to live. Have hope, because on my return - you shall definitely find what you had wanted. Tell me where you would want to go. If it's too hard for you to pick places, I shall give you a list to choose from. Wherever your finger shall point, I shall take you there. I shall take you to places you have never been to and thrill you with much love. 

We shall swim in new waters. Climb the tallest of mountains and touch the clouds. Listen to the songs of exotic birds. Trek our way deep into the dense forest, camp there and smile over the sound of crickets. I shall fill your nights and days with much laughter and you shall put me to sleep singing those sweet lullabies.

When I look at you, into your eyes, and when my soul takes its glimpse into your heart, I shall instantly understand the desire that tickles your inner self, and how that you try so hard to hide what obviously spills out. Yes I shall wink at you, but would leave you at your peace and quietly quit the scene because time is not ripe yet to get naughty and likeably misbehave.

Come close and behold the mess of a person that I am from within. Search my heart and command all that you do not like -  to leave. And it shall leave I promise. Because you are so precious to me, change wouldn't be a hard thing at all. All the sweetness that I have lost over the years, I shall find in you. And my love for poetry shall reignite looking at the touch of class in the way you hold your pen and the way your lips make movements upon your loverly utterances.

Yes, I would 'certainly and only' like doing what you like. And I am the type that readily defies the whole world to get to you. Wouldn't wait to punch on a few noses or take a few deadly blows to prevent evildoers and whoremongers who lurk in the dark from pouncing on you. You shall know the tenacity of these words when we meet. By the way, there are two things, only two things that I vehemently detest: lies and greed; thought you should know. Oh yes, I also concede that you shall definitely like me more the moment you become friends with my mum, dad and brother. The very thought of your presence is heaven to me. But who art thou, where art thou, when shalt thou come, I lay wait!

Beautiful!

I am a happy man leading a simple life. Or rather, deriving happiness out of simple things in life. I have always disliked complications, confusions, flamboyance and the related sophistications that blind our souls from seeing beauty the way it has to be seen! The definition of beauty also is so very simple. Beauty, to me, is the state of your sight.

She is in her early twenties. An orchestra singer, dark skinned. Sings wherever she gets a chance, to feed her family. She has a bedridden father, a mother who is a part time maid. Hmm nope, not really a maid. But a dishwasher who goes to the upper-middle class households in the street whenever there is struggle for food at home. So I happen to sit next to her mother who also accompanies her daughter to wherever she goes to perform in the night. Because in India it is really dangerous to send a girl out at nights. We talked. Her mother and I. When her mother, with tears, shared the heart-rending story of how the girl strives hard to take care of her father, I instantly found her very beautiful.

The other day I went to see the boy child of this couple I know for long. This little child was adopted because they had no children after 10 years of their marriage. But it so happened that the adopted baby boy, when he grew up to be a one year old kid, was found to be deformed. Against the advices of their ill-minded relatives who forced them to return the child back to the adoption agency, they chose to not let go of the child, but decided to have him with them and take care of his medical needs. They proudly call him, son. I found the couple beautiful and the little one, now a two-year old, so very beautiful.

These two women clothed in white, who were both over 50, were walking without footwear. We were coming back from the hospital and I asked my dad to stop the car. Because I saw one of them struggling to walk. I put my head out and ask the other aunty, do you need help? The one who is in struggle replies in some language that sounded like Hindi. The other one translates in English telling, 'we are coming from Haryana. This is a padh yatra that we had both vowed, we cannot get in the car, we have to walk till we reach Kanyakumari. There are so many like us walking in the front and coming behind.' I was truly truly shocked. What? From Haryana to Kanyakumari. Walking?! I first thought it was insane. Gave them our first aid kit so they could clean the wounds on their feet. Then I saw their faces, they were filled with happiness and I really liked the audacity these women had in their faith to complete their vow. And they appeared beautiful in my eyes.

So yes, I was in hospital. Few days. Tests after tests. But I became a popular patient because of my fear for syringes. And I had to give blood all the time. Oh my god. My dad and mum, both should come and hold me, so they could forcibly take blood from me. I initially disliked this nurse who used to joke about me getting scared for this. But then we became good friends eventually. She is married to a chronic drunkard, has two little kids, talks about her household chores to my mum and I have no other option but to listen to two women talking. I started liking her because she was very genuine and couldn't hide her emotions. The final day in that hospital, mum gifts her a saree and she cries with gratitude. Those were real tears. Then she smiles, comes to me and teases me more with the syringes, and I shout akkaaa. She was indeed beautiful.

Though I am a happy individual, I have my fair share of weaknesses. Yes, I have no shame in admitting that I am a weak vessel. New vulnerabilities sprout every now and then. And I continuously strive hard to overcome them. I might smile on the outside but have this brokenness inside me that only I am privy to. I pray to God that all my shortcomings are soon turned to strengths. I am sure God will listen to my prayers. If not today, maybe tomorrow. Or maybe some other day. I shall wait. Because when that day comes, I shall appear beautiful too from the inside. What are we, but meek men and women trying to be of help to each other so smiles could be spread.