why is it always the girl??

“Where’s my home?” He said nothing when I clearly expected a reply. He silently handed me a newspaper with an ad on the front side that said “home is where the heart is”. All I could do in response to that was stupidly gape back, because he had answered all my questions in that single gesture.

My question lies in the word “home”. What’s a home to a girl who has to leave her parents one day? I lived with my parents for twenty three years of my life. That little home was the entire world for me. I’m not a very social person and I don’t have many friends either. For me, my parents, my family was everything. Then came the day when I signed the nikkah papers. I knew it at that very moment that things will, definitely, take a drastic change. The first thing I asked my uncle after signing was, ‘uncle, is this it? Does it take only three signatures to change everything? Even my home, the place I live? Even my parents’ right on me?’ My uncle had no answer. He just hugged me tight and cried with me.

Every time I think of a home, I am reminded of a place where there is a mother. I realize the nest that a mother makes. She makes everything so comfortable for her children. The world is a perfect place for most people when they’re under her protection. Then, suddenly, it’s time for one of the children to leave the nest. The child has to leave. Why? Because this is a social norm. What happens to the “home” that child had been living in for all that while?

Though I’m certainly not of the view that the system should be the other way round, but I’m compelled to ask why it is always the girl who leaves her parents. Why it is her who is told to tear away from her loved ones and settles in a totally different lifestyle? Other than that, the guy should not, in any way, take for granted the sacrifice she makes for him, for something that is only customary. It may be customary, and it has been practiced for years and years of civilizations, but that doesn’t lessen the pain in any way.

I’m just so teary eyed as I write this. It’s just that, the word “home” brings up so many questions in my mind. I guess that’s all for now. I’ll let you guys do the talking now.

Till next time fellas!

Josh's Own Superman

The father clutched his son’s tiny hand warmly. 

"Do you know what I wanna be when I grow up Daddy?" The child asked him brightly.

He was his first born, just 5, but he could already find his own traces in his son. It was a sunny Sunday morning, too early for many people to be out here. But Josh has insisted. All through the week, the boy would wait anxiously for his father to come home from work. Working late, there wasn’t much time left for him to play or get involved with his son like he should. Josh was sweet boy with a heart of gold, of course like many of his age, untouched by any kind of malice. It was the age of dreams and seeing only happy endings; the age of dreaming about what one wants to be when one grows up and believing almost as a religion that it would turn out exactly that.

“What?”

“I wanna be a pilot!” The child said loudly, laughing with pure happiness. “I wanna fly and see where the birdies go off too!” His eyes shone with joy.

“And what will you do once you find out?”

“I will try to find Tootsie and then I’ll bring him home.” The child smiled, cute little dimples forming at the end of his lips as he did.

“Good! I bet we will have a great time with Tootsie”, the child seemed very sure of what Daddy said and nodded eagerly.

Tootsie was Josh’s most treasured pet parrot. Tootsie and Mr. Cuddles, the teddy bear, were the best; Grace and I couldn’t agree more. Mr. Cuddles went to bed with Josh, but the parrot stayed out of the bedroom. One day when he woke up, he realized he had left the cage near an open window, giving, Brutus, the bad neighborhood kitty, the chance to have him as his dinner. Naturally it was hard to make Josh believe that Tootsie had gone to visit friends, and maybe he’s staying because he likes it there with his old pals.

“Daddy”, Josh looked at him with imploring eyes.

“Yes baby?” he said as he pulled his son up in his arms.

“When I’m big and strong like you, will you take me to your office with you?”

“Of course I will chum!”

“And… and”, the boy was trying to think of different possibilities. “And when I’m big and strong just like you, will you still play with me?”

“Of course! You’ll be a big man like daddy is, and daddy will be proud.” He smiled warmly at Josh. Josh hugged his father.

“Daddy”, The boy hugged his father tighter. “You’re the only one who can open the cookie jar when mom can’t. I told Pete at school Daddy’s jus’ like Superman. He said his dad is stronger than my dad but then I told him you can even go into the basement without any light on and the monster in the basement can’t even scare you off!” The child laughed with satisfaction.

“Did you?” Daddy smiled at Josh.

“Yes”, the boy was in such high spirits. “And I also told him that, that day you cut yourself shavin’ and you didn’t get even kissed for it and… and it didn’t hurt you ‘cause you’re brave and… and you weren’t sad for getting’ cut.” The boy swelled with pride. “Daddy…” the boy grew serious.

“Yeah chum?”

“How come you take so many pictures of us, but you’re never in them?”

“Well…” he thought for a moment. “That’s ‘cause…”

“Daddy I want a photo of you so I can show Pete how big and strong you are!” he said without letting him finish. The boy hugged his father again and smiled. He held Josh closer to him.

“I love you Daddy. You’re the best! I wanna be just like you when I grow up!” he gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“I love you too son! You’re the purest form of love I’ve seen.”  The boy clearly didn’t understand what his father meant and he didn’t either bother with it. He just hugged his Superman and clung on to his protective arms.

The day was breaking in. People were arriving in groups as the sun went on higher into the sky. Josh and Daddy turned to go home, their hearts filled with love. Wondering what mom must have made for Josh’s breakfast, he disappeared into the growing crowd, holding tightly to his father.

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picture courtesy: deviantART

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Dearest Papa!

This one was for you. As a child, I staunchly believed you were the most handsome man there is. Now that I'm all grown up, I see that beauty in you is skin deep. You are an inspiration to me and many around you. Of countless memories I have with me, I remember when I couldn't color within lines and you used to hold my hand and help me with it.  I love you Papa! For everything you are and for everything you have made of me...

I love you!

Save the Innocence!!

A few days back I went out for ice-cream with my family. But to my disappointment, I couldn’t enjoy it. A small child hardly 5 or 6 years old came to my father’s side of the window. He was very cute, with pink cheeks, hair made up just right; not to mention his clothes were nice and clean. I was just wondering what he was doing there when to my horror, he lifted his hand. He had a handful of pencils; he was selling them. In the third world that we live in, child labor is something very common. We see it every day around us, we have partially become numb to it. But this child here, he was so darn cute, his eyes so bright, his smile so innocent… those pink cheeks, and the way he held out those few pencils to my father, it really broke my heart. I could not have imagined a neat kid like him could be out selling stuff near midnight. I could not help but shed tears. I asked my father to give him some money. You know what the child did? He refused to take the money for nothing; he wanted to exchange them for pencils only. We bought some, and he went away happily. I felt a little happy about the way this little child had known the ethical difference between earning his living or begging for it. Obviously he learnt this from his parents who obviously, then, have morals. God knows in what terrible condition they might be in that forced them to send their beloved child out like this. Simply tragic.

Among other things that I hate being in a third world country is seeing our children withering away like that. What with all the over population, high illiteracy rate, unemployment; and on top of that, the new financial crisis the world is facing now, the poor being its first victims. Why can’t the government do something about these innocent babies at least!! Frustration and anger rises in me when I see their helpless eyes… They did not deserve a life so miserable in any case!

Employing children as waiters, servants, mechanics, making them do everything that their tender hands are not yet ready to do; they are forced to grow up, forced to forget their chance on a happy carefree childhood, while others like them get education, are cared for and provided for. But these poor children learn the harsh realities of life before their young minds can even understand them; and earning the very hard way those grown-ups do. These children are treated brutally in many cases, including sexual abusing and harassing. When their soft, tiny, unskilled hands cannot learn a particular skill, they are mistreated, beaten up, cursed… And they grow up in fear.

It’s sad on the part of humanity how we choose to spend a fortune on our own luxuries and life style. We always have to have the latest iPod, the latest laptop, the Nokia model that’s just about to hit the market and make it big time. For what, guys?? Yes I completely understand it can be that one wants to be up to date and all, one must be style conscious. Even I spend like that, I'm one of you all. But, let’s just put ourselves aside for one moment; think of all the good you can do for anyone who is in need. The money we’re soon going to spend on that new Nokia model can feed so many hungry mouths. And yes, like I said before in one of my posts, a good deed always comes back. If one is wealthy, they can choose to help out a family and maybe do some significant good to it that lasts as well.

The whole idea of this post is to ask you, the readers, to do a little something for these children. There are countless ways in which we can make life a little easier for them if we put our minds and hearts to it. To start with, there are so many related causes available on the Internet that one can join. You can donate money if you can afford it. If not anything, then you can promote this cause by the very special gift of writing power you, my blogger friends, are blessed with. Come on, let’s do something for these little angels. Let us make life seem a little bit easier for them. Trust me, in the end when you’re done, just their mere smiles will be so worth it!

I remember one of Michael Jackson’s ever loved songs…

There comes a time when we heed a certain call

When the world must come together as one

There are people dying

And it’s time to lend a hand to life

The greatest gift of all

We can’t go on pretending day by day

That someone somewhere will soon make a change

We are all part of God's great big family

And the truth, you know, love is all we need

We are the world, we are the children

We are the ones who make a brighter day

So let’s start giving

There’s a choice we're making

We’re saving our own lives

It’s true we’ll make a better day

Just you and me

Send them your heart

So they’ll know that someone cares

And their lives will be stronger and free

As God has shown us by turning stones to bread

So we all must lend a helping hand

We are the world, we are the children

We are the ones who make a brighter day

So let’s start giving

There’s a choice we're making

We’re saving our own lives

It’s true we’ll make a better day

Just you and me

Enjoy the winter season ahead, and take very good care of yourselves and those around you.

Happy blogging!

Hugs~~

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picture courtesy: deviantART