An infant girl, who unfortunately born in a poor or a middle-class family is like a curse for the family. The Indians have never been happy about having a girl child, they felt like a burden. But what a fate they have, that this burden make them Smile by being
English
This Picture Shows The Poverty And The Status Of The Lady, That Just To Feed Herself And Her Family, These People Have To ragpick. The Garbage Is The Base For Their Livelihood. They Get Their Food Out Of The Garbage. This Picture Also Indicates, How Worse Life Could Be, To
This picture reminds me of the best phase of my life, my school days. I guess everyone reading this article must have gone to school; hence you can understand my context and even connect it with yours. I can bet that if your school days have passed, then you must
Gautama Buddha taught us that whatever may be the situation we might handle it peacefully. Once Buddha was travelling with a few of his followers. While they were passing a lake, Buddha told one of his disciples, "I am thirsty. Fetch me some water from the lake." The
What’s for dinner? We ask usually, but do we ever ask who was standing in the rain or dripping his every drop of sweat to irrigate the soil, make fertile enough to grow that basmati you were having last night or the lentils. NO asking, NO acknowledging, nothing why
Everyone has their own perspective of seeing things. Like if I ask you what do you see in this picture, some will say “A Blue Scooter” or “Just a piece of metal junk” but if you ask me I see a whole bunch of memories that we made together, from
Hindi
धुएँ मे उड़ रहा अस्तित्व हमारा, जीवन जीने का न कोई आधार रहा, भाग दौड़ मे ऐसे उलझे, जैसे तारो के जाल मे फँसा पंछी मदद को कुहार रहा, सहानुभू
A few years back, my sister and I went down to our village after five years. She is my late Uncle’s daughter. Her family passed away in an accident when she was fifteen. My parents adopted her, and she’s been my best friend since then. Back in the
Hindi
ज़मीं पर खड़े है सहारे लिए हैं, हमे तुम न काटो हम तुम्हारे लिए हैं। कहीं तो रुकोगे किसी झोपड़ी में, ये धरती ये अम्बर तुम्हारे लिए है। हमने किया है
The summer has left, settled elsewhere. Somewhere where probably my lover exists. A pre-planned, pre-decided separation. On the other end, winter's clutches on the unwelcomed welcome seem closer kicking autumn And now, winter blows its whistle letting his cool breeze out wreathing around me, entrapping me, making me
It is not like it was earlier, Pure and brave, unconditional and generous. Like it ever loved all without return, Like it ever worked whole without jealousy, Of doing most labour of job; Heart is now become a bogus organ, Creating envies and acting treacheries. Like it become a demon
Fire! O Fire! O giver of life, Gleaming the days and soothing the nights. Soul arising from the lap of glares, Fades the entity and blows-up the embers. Flickering tentacles glows in hue, Framing figures in shapes of new. Life surrenders and goes to you, Fire you have the darker