About Me

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Barcelona, Barcelona, Spain
Like a crack on wall, my thoughts grow bidirectionally and wander not-too-beautifully. An attempt to see through the other side of this wall - until it breaks...

Thursday, June 05, 2008


The Question: Is it too little too late?

The Trigger: Reading my fellow friend’s blog, chatting with him, and reading his new blog!!!!

The Period: FLAME, after a long time, wants to continue what it was meant to do; Question itself! Tried a bit of lighter work, but failed miserably. There was no major reason for the Flame to get a bang and to spread out it’s feeling on this black sheet! Meanwhile my involvement in many zero activities also added to the reason of not returning to this page frequently.

The Introduction: Before I start let me introduce to my trigger http://vachnalaya.blogspot.com/2008/06/one-whispers-two-speak-few-talk-but.html . The author to this blog is a friend of mine. To put his action on a higher level and make it sound really good, I must admit that I have seen him doing something that I never came across (personally). Quitting a good position in a multinational Indian company for a niche social work (associated with a NGO) is an activity I could just imagine, but never do. But he did. Although he modestly denied to this, giving some selfish reasons behind his action, I believe that it takes a lot of courage and confidence to be able to take the very first step towards the road unexplored.

The Thoughts: Call it irony or coincidence, my blog on Child and subjects surrounding it, comes merely a week before the World Anti Child Labor Day (12th June).

FLAME recalls the past, it was a child once, but fortunately for him, he never had to face any such thing called Child Labor. Going the UN definition way, child labor is “Work that exceeds a minimum number of hours, depending on the age of a child and on the type of work. Such work is considered harmful to the child and should therefore be eliminated”, FLAME at times felt (when a child) that he was subjected to Child Labour. But he was sadly mistaken. The labour, the FLAME did, was to study thousands of academic pages and bring out the good part out, unlike what the UN defines a child labour, something that can be classified as either domestic or economic in nature. Or may be unfortunate enough, as now he stand totally unaware of the mental state and emotional ruggedness of such a child, yet trying to voice out for any such child. A voice that would be hardly read less than 10 times and get dissolved in the wide world of the Internet, couple of days from now. Is this act too late, is it too little, or is it worth enough??? FLAME cares nothing; he speaks out and feels happy.

Someone said, labor ends when a child is born (referring to the mother’s labor). Let me put a small story here. The moment when a mother looks at her child for the first , is a moment ineffable is its own term. Unaware of what awaits the child, the mother buries herself under a thick blanket of dreams. He could very well grow up to become a manager or a politician, a teacher or a scientist, a poet or even a painter. But there are many hurdles, that could kill his growth altogether. The socio-economic condition around the child, transforms the hurdle into a wall, causing the child to fall. The mother looks at her child, desperately wanting to escape and break free from the evil grip of the Social Demon. The dream is interrupted, and the mother is happy. It was just a dream!

A child devoid of any kind of exposure to the world outside his sight is a human half dead. FLAME had people around, to help and to listen. But the child in the dream is alone, he sits outside his shanty, at the end of his day, cursing his life and submitting himself to God. The FLAME feels annoyed, feels irritated and feels angry, not on the people who make use of this poor child to get their work done, but on itself. I have seen this happening in front of my eyes, the ‘chotu’ - in my hostel, ‘tambi’ - at the Udupi hotel down my building in Mumbai, the boy in the train compartment (cleaning the rusted floor), the beggar on street (big rackets of such traffic businesses, force many helpless children to beg and collect money), at many places, in many forms and on many occasions. But I pass on, probably making a sad face or giving an extra tip to his/her work. Charity begins at home. The FLAME, although confused at the whole issue and blaming itself, has made me realize the importance and nobleness of things like ‘Avalanche’ (read the blog mentioned above). I pity myself on the grounds of geographical barriers. Being far away from the event of Avalanche I just feel good for my friend, who is able to contribute a single drop to the ocean of needs. Altough I can merely feel the gentle breeze coming from this ocean (although salty), the thirst inside is enough to dive in and get drenched in the tide.

Leaving with a commitment to myself, and this song for you all.
“Insaaf ke dagar pe
Bachho dikhao chal ke
Yeh des hai tumhara
Neta tumhi ho kal ke”
On the path of justice
O, Children come, walk
This nation is yours
You are the leaders (of tomorrow)

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