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Archive for the ‘Uncertainty’ Category

Child Abuse

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I was recently reading a story on how Dean Tripple had drawn something that is so hard to talk about. And it is astounding to me how many kids are molested/raped/abused. Who are these monsters I would ask myself at first? How can you do that to a little child? What makes it okay for an adult full grown man or woman to do this to little kids?

It really goes thru the roof for me when I see little kids around myself, thats when your heart really starts pumping rage. Having a particular cousin who is some 17 years younger than I am, who I particularly love, I would cut up the groin of the man who even looked at her such. But more than anything, we have to create an environment at home that is a “safe zone” a safe zone where a kid can come and confess or tell her mother or me all her secrets. No kid, should be lead to believe that they can handle this all by themselves. 

Having known a close friend, who despite the most protected environment, as a kid, was regularly “touched” by one of her servants. Then as the years passed by, she told herself that she liked it. An 8 year old, is being molested and to cope up with it the grown up 18 year old is telling herself that she kind of liked it. “I like it when my friends make bad decisions in life, it is good, everyone should get screwed over, it makes me happy” I was aghast when I heard that coming from my supposed best friend, I asked her if she really meant it, and she confirmed.

See, it is all so easy for parents to not even know whats going on with their kids, they too are living their lives, day-in and day-out, but please don’t make kids if you can’t protect their fragile lives. My guardians guarded me too much, resultant I ended up creating two parallel lives for myself. As I am older, and I hear about all these child molestation stories, I thank them everyday for ensuring my safety, but I was an overprotected kid. In essence, they don’t even know who I really am. I am one person at home, and a completely different person outside. I have never gotten a boyfriend or even the majority of my friends home. I pick and choose who my parents think I am associated with, because being their first born they were always too concerned for my safety.

But no one can move around with our children 24/7 and even beyond their adolescence, but in their formative years we need to empower them, for life. We need to be able to teach them to be comfortable and be able to merg their outside and inside home life at some point atleast. A struggle that I continue to face myself. But more importantly we cannot under-protect them. We need to teach them the difference between an okay touch and a bad touch. We need to tell them, that if they came back to us with a rape story or a molestation story we won’t hold them responsible, or we have to make sure that we don’t give the “I don’t want to know about that” vibe. 

One of my aunts confessed that as a child she was molested by one of her older cousins, the other one confessed that she was almost raped in college. Thing is my grandparents are and were educated folks, yet they made it so hard for their own kids to come and tell them these things. Women in general have a tendency to share and talk about it, if not today then somewhere down the line, but as men are wired in some societies, it is made even harder for them to break down infront of anyone. My grandfather found it particularly offensive when a worker in a warehouse told him the owner had something about his granddaughter’s(mine) arse. He got offended to the point that he refused to take me to work the next day. I argued that getting catcalled is a very normal routine in a girl’s/woman’s life, can you come with me everywhere? 

He said, “I don’t want to know about that, it hurts me when it happens infront of my eyes, that(catcalling) doesn’t happen infront of me” 

And there it was. The classic, don’t come and tell me. Whatever else he might have meant, this was all I could hear. Loud and clear. He even argued and commented on my couture, sending me the only message that I could hear, it is your fault. 

Little kids are fragile, even us adults are, the scars of childhood are hard to recover from. And the most deserving of kids ask for our love in the most undeserving manner. It is true. People make large families, oblivious to the fact that every extra kid is not just an added expense but also a fragile tiny life you have to guard, not under, or over, but just enough. It is hard, to find that optimal balance, and as a friend to some new mother’s who share that their perspective has completely changed since they have become mothers, a couple of them, pretty sure that they are “fucking it all up”. But we have to find ways to combat this. This can’t be another, “it is what it is”. Pedophiles should also seek help. Victims must also speak up, parents and family should function as a support system, where you keep your secrets at, not who you keep your secrets from. It is okay to seek help. 

For the full comic strip :http://www.upworthy.com/its-hard-to-speak-about-these-things-in-public-so-he-drew-this-instead-5?c=ufb1

http://www.tencentticker.com/somethingterrible/

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When Travyon Martin was shot, I told myself that kid could have been my future kid, or my future nephew or my friend. The state of Florida in the US is heavily endorsing hate backed with a mistrust some people cannot explain, fueled by a gun, resulting in nothing but death of innocent people. A gun in an angry man/woman’s hand who wants to hate. In my near future or my distant future, I honestly do not want to hear about a friend’s kid who gets shot thus. 

When Travyon Martin was shot, I, as a non-black person was worried. Not because I feel for the general good, which I do. But because some of the most amazing people I know are black. If I recount each one of their faces and then think about a shooting that randomly happens to them, or their future kids. I will cry. 

In the aftermath of 9/11 when the US was on a rampage of cornering innocent muslims at airports and random checks all over the country, and more often than not throw them off into Guantanamo bay, it teared my heart apart. I would sit in the classroom scrolling thru all the Mohammads and the Khans in my phonebook, and wonder how many of them face the humiliation everytime they travel, and my heart wrenched at the thought that, it is likely if not impossible that in my lifetime one Mohammad, on Khan or idk someone with an “islamic” name, that I know, I have shared a conversation, a meal, a moment, a friendship with, will disappear. 

It also wrenches my heart to think of every black person and friend I have ever meet, innocent. But some angry dude with a gun, would some day shoot one of them or their kid. Its highly likely, if not impossible. No amount of rallies will then bring them back, you can change all your laws afterwards. Nothing would make a difference then. Atleast not to me, and their families. We would just be morning our loss. Why aren’t gun laws be amended right now? Before we actually loose the ones we love?

Why is it allowed to have weapons in a civilized society? In the hands of civilians who know not better. Clearly. 


The question is, how many more little black boys will it take? 

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Have you ever sat in solitude, and thought about your beliefs?

I was born to religious people, they pray every morning for an hour, they are even influential characters at the place of their worship and community. And although they called me for the morning prayers and I obeyed, they never forced their faith on me.

In college I ranged from an atheist to an agnostic, and now here I am a believer at last.

A full circle. But i had to be others before being a believer.

But what do I ask still? Does it even know I exist? Like what a fly is to us, is that how I am to it. And I say ‘it’, because to me god can’t have a gender, to me it is a power, a power that bring an order to this chaos. And I think although a lot of things happen in randomness, and we are yet fools of randomness a lot of this randomness has set logical patterns. That sometimes we had to be at certain places, or life would have been different. Kind of like Happenstance. 

But are my worries, and my dreams of any significance to God? because in the grand scheme of things I am just a dust particle, getting to live life. I cannot say my existence doesn’t matter, but the lack of me wouldn’t have made much of a difference as well.
And here my cinephilia shall emerge again as I will say kind of like Its a Wonderful Life, a lack of my existence would have changed a lot. 

Then the theory goes that god lies within me, or it is watching over me, it is above and beyond me. But of all of this, all I really want to know is whether it even knows me?

Is it aware of my existence? is the pattern of my happiness and sadness just another blueprint from it’s grand book applied to me randomly. Are the naddis really right? is there a leaf somewhere that says it all about me? And that there is nothing really original to my existence.

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this is a random post, I need to uplift myself so I am listening to the sleepy giant over and over again, Natalie Merchant’s voice is soothing but ofcourse! so what is new? rejection, failure, oh what a year! I try not to get disheartened, and keep reminding myself that maybe good isn’t working out, because great will. But I don’t know, why there is no sight to that too. I am getting out of this god damned place in another semester or so, with no notion of what the future is going to hold for me. Everyone else seems to be doing fine, excuse me? what do I believe in now…

here’s natalie merchant and her fineness,

its beautiful and quiet admirable how this woman is filling music into these dead poems, and giving the poets a voice they deserved. She is indeed a fine example of how nothing stops you from achieving greatness and such. I first got introduced to her while browsing TED.com, impressive how she treads that stage almost like a stag. Her warm voice is almost a gently flowing honey.

Still discovering,

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Not having a job-security after four years of grilling and torture (Thank-you Uncle Sam)

Dear Uncle Sam..

I came to your country, not in search of garden jobs but to get a truly international education (now what is wrong with that?) I understood your culture and your people, your couture too, I adopted your methods and even took the freshman 8 (freshman 15 is a myth!) my daddy, I will confess is kinda sorta rich, so you know am not here to take your jobs away. I pay double the green for the same education (whatever happened to those principles about education and learning and stuff!) Anway, I pay big, I study hard, I live in shitty conditions here ( I am not going to be sorry for having the good life back home) -for what? an international education, to become a global citizen.

Yes you do help me achieve that global exposure, and I won’t even underestimate the exposure I get here, the experiences and the good times (read parties and such), you might argue that I do get the value for my green.

But really, I too have brought the global perspective on the table, it is also because me that the discussions are robust in classrooms and you get to boast about the percentage of internationals on your glossy brochures and-please never underestimate the revenues you get from me and my alikes.

You get me grilled, for four years, prepare me like your own citizens, I pay more than double the price and in-spite of having a superb GPA, amazing extra-curricular, outstanding leadership qualities and an amazing demonstration of adaptability, plus a knack of being able to party with pretty much anyone. I DO NOT GET A GODDAMN REPUTABLE INTERNSHIP?

No really, and seriously. I understand your Dear Obama wants to pass the health reform bill, has bailed out companies but now now how can you anger your own investors? We bring some-we take some, all am asking for is two years of experience from a job market I was trained for.

Yours,

Truly Distressed

an international student

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