cross my heart, hope to die.

kiranp28Leave a comment

I caught the darkness just thinking of you.

Stepping into a whole new world —

Surrounded with manipulating toxins fuming in the air.

Falling into a reality and enduring the pain.

 

I yell.

You justify.

I forgive.

 

I cry.

You leave.

I apologize.

 

Again this darkness of yours nurtures me,

and I get lost in the moment, not giving a care,

I forget.

 

I let myself get consumed by the thought of the chance for good in you,

but I somehow darkness of yours it always finds it’s way back to me; and

I end up in your deceitful embrace.

 

I can no longer leave the your dark shadow

as I’ve now fallen to it.

You were the one who pulled me out of the well

and now you are the same person who pushed me back in

to suffer.

Letter to my Future Self.

kiranp28Leave a comment

Dear Future Self,

I’m not sure how to start this off. I’m your past self. I don’t know who the kind of person you are right now and I don’t know if you are the person I hoped you’d be, so I’m kind of confused if you want me to get to the point or if you want me to take my time. But since I’m you in the past, I think I am going to take some time. Your welcome.

See I really hope you remember the last year of high school – especially how I started it off. Boy o boy was I scared to death. I thought that I was so certain about the future and who I wanted to be that I just got confused between what I aspired to be and what was expected of me. I had a lot of questions. I still have so many questions for you. Did I get into the program that I wanted for university? Did we get a new home yet? Did I finally get my driver’s license? It’s like this final year of high school  finally got me thinking about life; its got me thinking about you especially.

I’m sure you know this, because obviously you went though the same thing since we are the same person, but I thought I was so far away from the “future.” I thought that being 18 was so far away and that 2018 was the year I would look and be so changed, mature, wise, and different from who I was then. But now that I’m thinking about it, I’m still the same person. I look the same. I feel the same. I am the same person I was a year ago and probably would be a year from now.  And now that I’m writing to you, your twenty-two, this is the last year of university; and as I know this about myself your probably stressing like tomorrow is the end of the world –  oh yea I was meaning to ask you this too is the government doing anything to deal with climate change? Sorry I just had to ask that.

Anyway If your reading this and in a few weeks you begin to apply for med school just know, that you have your entire family and friends to count on. Plus you just need to be confidant in yourself. What I learned in this past month is that crying helps. Having an emotional breakdown is normal and just relieving from that makes you feel so refreshed and so powerful that you feel like you can knock out anything in your way. Just make sure you don’t loose your cool that you have nightmares for the rest of your life – remember the pantomime drama performance in grade 10, yea I’m talking about those kind of nightmares.

Kiran, in a few months I’m going to be opening up a letter that I wrote to my future self, like what I’m doing now, in grade. 9. And I still do this day remember what I wrote. It probably has some BS like what your marks should be like and how basketball is going. So since I’m still that same lil grade.9 I’m going to write some BS in this letter too – except for basketball, unless you finally got that ACL surgery. So here it goes: Kiran your GPA should be….. kidding I grew out of that. But you still need to remember that these grades are important. People might say that grade don’t define you but to your past self aka me they do.

So hopefully you have grown out of that as well yet still keep your grade up and make mama and dada happy. That doesn’t always mean get good marks. You know that our goal is to make mama and dada proud and repay what they have done for us. And you do that by making sure you don’t do anything that ruins the respect they have for you, and what others have for them because as their daughter you have a responsibility of taking care of them no matter what.

Okay so I didn’t take that much time from your “busy” schedule, but hopefully you still stay true to yourself, which means you still tell me the truth – eh this is getting me really confused.

Have fun and live life with no regrets:)

Love you (which makes me think of myself as a narcissist … but that’s okay)

Kiran.

Woman In the Mirror.

kiranp28Leave a comment

Most days I’m alright,

but every now and then I don’t feel fine.

I look down to see my legs,

and they seem as if they aren’t mine.

I reassure myself that I will be okay,

that this will wait for no one

let alone, myself.

122 pounds,

With my lungs plotting against me.

I look into the mirror,

and see the reflection of a woman,

who is unknown to me.

 

I bring myself up —

standing face to face,

parallel to a woman that I want to be.

I see a woman who was not confused,

but determined.

I see a woman who was not holding back,

but fearless.

I see a woman who was not apathetic

but passionate.

I see that woman who is a realist–

And she is me.

 

Overtime, I have begun to familiarize with this woman in the mirror.

I have begun to embrace what this life has to offer me–

knowing that with time,

my perception will change.

 

This is my world.

Only I can see it through my eyes.

What I see,

is that my reality is starting to shape me.

It’s starting to

accommodate to my needs.

Starting to

settle me into this new phase–

wondering where it will lead.

 

The children.

The husband.

The family.

The career.

The avidity.

has carved me into a woman with,

my determination.

My passion.

My fearlessness.

My life.

 

Now when I look into the mirror

I see a reflection of Aline.

Basement.

kiranp28Leave a comment

I don’t get nightmares anymore. Well they aren’t as frequent as they were from before when I had the first relapse a month ago.I mean it feels nice. I don’t feel as if every time I breathe it is being numbered, every time I move I’m being watched, every time I try to escape I’m dragged back, every time I revolt I feel the sting piercing it’s way through my limbs and veins. It feels nice to not endure that torture everyday. I’m finally thinking that I’m going to be okay.

But even though I’ve fled from his tight grasp on my neck and the feeling of disgust and shame, that he forced upon me, is one I still need yet to escape.

Days seem to go by so fast. Back in the basement, hours felt like days, days felt like weeks, and weeks felt like — well I stopped counting after 5 months; it didn’t seem to be worth it anymore. So long — but so less time for me to recover from the pain of the whips and the burns that were imprinted across my body as they hold a permanent mark. So many opportunities for me to just run — but his voice had plagued my mind, leaving me to be to scared to even limp near the window to feel the rays of the sun warm my body. I had such little hope left inside of me to break free from the screams, taunts, and “discipline” that was only so tolerable at the age of 12. The grass wasn’t greener on any of the sides around me — just the cold hard cement floor that forbid my body from any comfort.

When I was first brought to the basement, he told I had lost the right to my body and that I was mere property. He told me that my parents didn’t want me; that’s why my mom thought it was more important to go attend her call rather than wait for me to come off the spinning strawberry ride. He said a lot of things. Things that I still am trying to forget, but they always come find me when I’m finally thinking of going back outside – they just won’t let me. Even though he’s not here to physically drag me back from  my hair into the basement, the memories and recollections of the abuse have chained me back from breaking free from this phsyicatric ward.

When I told the officer what happened – she replied by saying that it’s normal for underage victims who have been kidnapped to undergo sexual and physical abuse. Normal. She said that without any hesitation, without any feeling, without any compassion. I wanted to scream to her and yell that there was nothing normal for a girl to have bite marks and scratches across her chest, and the fact that she was forced to spread her legs not knowing of what was come to next; but later was scarred and traumatized of what she had to endure for the painful hours that it had lasted the first time. I wanted to scream, but over the years I have been taught that silence resulted in immunity from torment. He told me that: “silence was key.”

Those words echoed in my mind and the empty soul that had been ripped apart from inside of me. Those words, they are what constraint me from breaking free. Those words are imprinted on my identity. They will never leave me. In fact they have followed me here – to my grave.

The doctor’s had told the officers that there was too much “damage done,” and that I would need intensive care for me to recover from both the physical abuse and the emotional trauma that I had to endure over the years. I was considered a miracle. For the first time I had felt as if I was considered something other than a muse and puppet, instead I was a miracle. A miracle who could not live through her nightmares any more longer. A miracle who shouldn’t be able to still feel as if her body is not her body. A miracle who just would’t endure it no more.

I was a miracle.

 

Woman. Lady. Girl.

kiranp284 Comments

1990’s

Obey like a woman.

Don’t dare to disagree.

Do what he says.

“You are just a woman, I’m the man of the house.”

Stay within your limit.

You don’t get to dream.

 

Act like a lady.

Don’t slouch.

Always smile – look presentable.

“Go powder your nose.”

Don’t eat too much;

starve if you need too.

 

Look like you’re a girl.

Fair complexion.

Silhouette figure.

“you need to fit into size zero jeans”

Don’t try to be different;

different is ugly.

2000’s

Lead like a woman.

Challenge those who question you.

Do what you want to do.

Break and go beyond those limits.

Allow your dreams to lead your life.

 

Act like a lady.

Stand tall and let your self pride radiate to every dark memory you’ve had.

Always smile and don’t let those tears hold you back.

Fuck the haters.

Embrace the power of femininity.

 

Look like a girl.

Shades of beauty don’t come in just one colour.

No queen fits into the same size jeans.

Be unique;

unique is beautiful.

This poem was actually inspired by something I read online about how different woman’s roles are in the 21rst century as compared to the 20th century and I was so intrigued by this idea that I really wanted to capture what was trying to be portrayed in the image I saw online. I decided to do a somewhat reflection and imagined two woman standing in front of each other and being told these things in their respective eras. Furthermore I also wanted to keep the repetition going because I wanted to show how much time and thinking has changed from 100 years ago to today and how it will continue to change whether it will be positive or negative. I believe as I was writing this I actually had awaken the feminist part of my soul and a fraction of that into this piece. I hope you guys like it!!

Aditihi.

kiranp284 Comments

The following piece was inspired by one line from the class act “Nine”. The plot is of two women who have been kidnapped by human sex-traffickers. They are locked in a room and talk about how they are dealing with what is happening to them. I emulated from the line “This room never hear my name.”

 

this room never heard my name

no one bothered

to ask

to listen

nor to care.

 

people like me are

 not wanted here

in fact we are a plague

that had become

a burden

and

pain for society.

 

we are considered

“a filth in civil society”

unacceptable

a nuisance

a joke.

 

we are not man

nor woman.

we are barely

considered human.

 

being beaten

abused

and traumatized

has become a daily routine

in our

suffocating reality.

laughed at

as we walk the streets.

resulting with

us on our knees

 folding our hands

as we beg for

food to eat.

 

pushed to either the outskirts

of the city

or the trash filled,

and disease infested alleys

are what we now consider home.

 

We are not woman

nor man

we are barely considered human

 

This room never heard my name

but if someone asks

it is Adithi.

 

“This room never heard my name’ had inspired me to talk about outcasts or victims of the world that mistreats them for being different. My mind had instantly gone to the emotions that most transgenders in india feel as the result of being “shunned” by the rest of society. They are constantly being abused at (both verbally and physically) and have to deal with other issues such as poverty as they are not given any work aside from dancing and begging for money so that they can support themselves.

I chose the name Adithi because it means freedom in Hindi and it’s somewhat ironic because all these transgenders want is to escape this label and be free; and the fact that they are still being deprived from their rights and freedoms in one of the world’s largest democracies is truly cruel and unjustified — especially since we are in an era of progression towards equality of all.

A-Z

kiranp282 Comments

R-River.

What to do there: Write about movement. Sit and watch the world go by. Notice the differences between land and water and sky. If you don’t have a quay, a jetty will do, or a harbour, or a river bank. Tell the story of a character who transforms when they move from one element to the other and how this transformation impacts on their life, their relationships, and their daily routines.

It’s been a while since I’ve actually taken a look at the river and have seen it in a different perspective from what I usually view it to be. Usually I go to the river with a task to write about something else, hoping that nature inspires me but it doesn’t. I don’t look for the simplicity that life has to offer; because it’s just so easy to look over something that was always there. But what I didn’t realize is that it will not always be there. From that moment, the importance of the water that danced its way through the city, the trees that swayed along with the whistles of the wind, and the rocks that lay on top of the soil that carries the weight of life. All these aspects from the river helped me realize that nature had been inspiring me all along; all it took was for me to just pay attention – so I did.

When you just look, you see that the sky above, and the water mimic each other as if they are just one -depending on each other. You realize intellectually and metaphorically that they will be unable to exist without the other one present.

When you just listen, you hear that the wind carries a tune whose pitch is so unique, you realize that nature has blessed us with an instrument that can not be created or destroyed.

When you touch, you feel the cold smooth surface of pebbles that defy gravity as you skip them across the body of the fast rushing water. You realize that nature is the only thing that can go against its own creation.

Nature enlightens the human kind, that it is the one aspect of life that can be both ignored for eternity or illuminate the mind.

 

T- Temple.

What to do there: Find a quiet spot. Places of prayer are not always tranquil. You could go in between prayer times when the church or mosque or temple is emptier and calmer; you’ll also draw less attention to yourself. Write about memories of prayer, your own or a character’s. Invent a reason for them being in the house of prater at this point in their life. What do they need to resolve? Write about textures, light, the sounds and smells.

“One creator created this creation. Truth is His Name. Great beyond description is His Infinite Wisdom.”

We sit in serenity, our eyes closed as these words tickle our lips in a gentle hush tone. Every exhale cut short, so that we do not miss the opportunity of praising the one who keeps our mind and soul in peace. I can hear the hushed voices of those sitting around me as they repeat the same words, some with more dedication and some with less – but either way you can still hear them.

I open my eyes to see the gleaming lights of the chandelier, lighting up each corner of the hall leaving no room for no darkness to exist. The warmth that each bulb gives off and the generosity of those who are helping the elderly be seated tickles and revives your presence in the room.

People are sitting cross legged, their palms together, and eyes still closed, as they whisper along side the priest of the legend of our guru and his teachings. That voice it reaches and touches your soul as you feel the pain, the joy, the emptiness, the fulfillment, the loss, and the recovery of all those present in this room. And those very people begin to hear my prayers. My longing to achieve the happiness I desire, my words to end the stress and struggles in my life, my dreams to help those in need. They can feel that, the same way god does; because I believe that god created a dilemma for us. That dilemma where we share and communicate our happiness and adversities with him, where in reality we are sharing it with each other so that we can help each other out.

I repeat: “One creator created this creation. Truth is His Name. Great beyond description is His Infinite Wisdom.”

I thank him for my existence, the truth, and the wisdom he has showered upon his devoters.

C- Cafe.

Watch people. Write about couples, groups and people sitting on their own. Write about each person until you find someone you want to keep writing about. Push yourself to write until you feel you’ve said everything you want to say. Write because you really want to know what you have to say about this person or couple. Write until you discover something that surprises you.

I’m not that type of girl who goes to Cafes to be quite honest. So this was a real change for me to step into a place filled with such different vibes than I am used to. But let me tell you that after this experience, I have realized how much I have come to like Cafes as it has been really intriguing and motivation in a way.

I saw a group of 3 girls who were just sitting near the fireplace surrounded by 4 sofa chairs. They were all hovering this one girl who had tears streaming down her face.

She kept on repeating to herself “I’m not going to get in. They won’t accept me. I’m just not going to get in.”

Her arms wrapped around her knees, as her friends comforted her by saying stuff like “don’t worry you have other options,” or “its’ not for everyone.”

I was so enraged at the fact that her friends were just comforting her and putting her down even more. They did not once they that she can get in the program she wants if she is willing

to work hard enough and, as cliche as it sounds, not give up.

At this point the entire cafe fell silent, everyone’s eyes fixed onto that corner near the fireplace. All you could hear was the cooking and brewing of coffee as well as the whistles of some kettles. My eyes were however, still fixed onto that girl crying with the stress and anxiety that exists in her life.

After about 15 minutes of “consoling,” the group of girls made their way out of the cafe, and the worker walked towards the table to clean up after them. I was so mad at those girls for discouraging their friend, and overtop of that I was mad at myself for not saying anything to them.

 

I wanted to tell that girl crying that she has the same chance as any one else to get into that program, that she is capable enough of becoming the person who she inspires to be, and that by not believing in yourself will in fact discourage you even more. I know that I didn’t know her or the kind of person she is. But all I know is that one can truly succeed if they believe in themselves and If they nail that down, they can do anything they want.

That is why I found this experience at the Cafe to be so motivational; it had reinstated my determination for my ambitions and the kind of person I want to be. You can learn so many things by just taking in and understanding different situations going around you because they all lead to a life lesson being learnt.

The Life of Children in Third World Countries.

kiranp286 Comments

I’m here.

Writing in a desk, scribbling broken words on paper, inside a building with a roof – sheltering me from the forces of nature.

I’m here.

Waking up every morning, from bed to a warm shower – as my family sets the breakfast table.

I’m here.

Walking to school without a care in the world of what going around me- instead, my only hope is for the bus to come on time.

I’m here.

Wondering how my day will go and what my mom has packed me for lunch – without the thought that there might not be a tomorrow for me to be in.

 

I’m here,

and I’m safe.

But there are, some in this world, who are not – safe.

 

Those who don’t have a desk to write on, forced to endure the blazing heat of the sun’s rays.

Those who wake up every morning at 4 a.m. – and prepare themselves for the physical labor they’ll have to endure for the next 10 hours .

Those who have been rejected the opportunity to education by their circumstance and unmerciful reality.

Those who wonder if they’ll be able to find drinkable water to suppress the urge of hunger that has become their shadow.

These kids they hope to live to see tomorrow

They might have the same dreams and aspirations, they are probably the same age, and may have the same name as myself.

But the difference between them and myself

Is that I’m safe,

and they are not.

                                                                                                         -Kiran Parmar.

 

There is this whole other world that exists among the age of progression and increased globalization, yet that side of the world hasn’t even experienced the latest developments and advancements as other nations continue to do on a daily basis. Everyday in these third world nations, children are left undernourished, as their parents face difficulties on a daily basis to provide the best for their kids. However, due to lack of economic wealth and prosperity being distributed within these nations, families are forced to take in job that include physical labor, long hour shifts, and sometimes under the intense heat of the sun. Let alone education, children are being denied rights as they are forced into child labor to provide for their families, which includes tolerating physical and sexual abuse. As a result, these kids continue to endure the pain and the idea of never having enough in their life becomes imprinted on their identity.

 

“It’s easier to get free wifi in the United States than it is to get free water in third world countries and people act like nothing is wrong with the world.”

 

Having to walk on a path that only the soles of a pair of shoes can protect these children, from the bruising and scars of the sharp rocks cutting into their feet, has become an ongoing struggle for survival for these innocent lives. Today in our world, there are nearly 2.2 billion children living; and from these 2.2 billion children, about 2 billion of them are living in developing countries and in poverty. As a result these children are receiving a quality of life that doesn’t meet their basic standard of living that are needed to sustain oneself in the 21st century. The pain and struggle is evident in their eyes as their eyes have become mirrors to the adversities and traumatic experiences they continue to endure on a daily basis. Having to endure hunger, thirst, and the feeling of insufficiency has a major impact on these kids who are unable to live their childhood like a normal child. Jumping on a trampoline after school, running through the sprinkler on a hot sunny day, having hot chocolate on a cold winter morning. They have never gotten this opportunity; they’re circumstances hold them back. But there is one more thing that forbids these children to live, and that is the cruel enemy known as disease.

 

“I think we all want justice and equality, a chance for a life with meaning. All of us have to believe that if we were in a bad situation someone would help us.”

-Angelina Jolie

 

Disease has become one of the most fatal and strongest enemy of children who reside in African countries, Bangladesh, Afghanistan, Haiti, India, Brazil, Cuba, and many more nations around the world. Diseases such as Measles, Tetanus, Polio, Haemophilus influenzae type b, Yellow fever, Hepatitis B, Rotavirus are most prominent in children younger than age 5 as well as in newborns. Although these diseases are present in first world countries as well, developing countries account for 95% of global aid prevalence. This demonstrates how nations’ economic struggles are impacting the future generations of their country, since they don’t have the means to provide medical assistance to families who are in desperate need of them. This brings out the bigger picture of the real struggle which is: that if a country is depending upon on assistance from those who have access to amenities they require, they will continue to go downhill until everyone collectively comes together to solve this underlying issue. 

 

 

The children, they are in pain everyday. These deadly diseases continue to consume their childhood, steal their smiles, and take away their chance to a better life. Instead these illnesses bring in immense agony, as it hurts to wake up every morning to intense pressure on their fragile bodies. They suffer and have to wait for death to take them away. They can’t do anything about it other than wait and tolerate the consequences of their reality. Like what Eli Khamorav says “Poverty is like a punishment for a crime you didn’t commit.” And the victims, unfortunately, are children in third world nations with families who simply do not have the money to treat their sick kids.

Unfortunately, newborns struggle the most; since about 2.6 million babies die in their first year alone according to the unfortunate data reviewed in 2016. Moreover, of these 2.6 million infants, 50% pass away in their first 24 hours and 75% pass during their first week.

According to UNICEF (United Nations Children Fund) “More than 30 million children are unimmunized either because vaccines are unavailable, because health services are poorly provided or inaccessible, or because families are uninformed or misinformed about when and why to bring their children for immunization.” Furthermore, as of 2016 about 5.6 million children under the age of 5 years died, which therefore translates into 15 000 under-five deaths per day. And more than half of these deaths could’ve been prevented or treated if they had access to simple and affordable medical intervention. These may seem just stats to all the readers, but to these families they have lost one of their own and mothers have lost a part of themselves. This is a bigger issue, and something we can no longer ignore.

Some simple factors that will aid in reducing, as well as preventing, these mortality rates and saving these innocent lives are:

  • Vaccinations
  • Safe water and food
  • Reduction of household air pollution
  • Sanitation and hygiene
  • Adequate nutrition

What I want to also mention is that the hard work of organizations such as UNICEF, UNDP, WHO, the Red Cross, doctor’s without borders, and many more NGO’s and IGO’s all have had a substantial impact in improving lives of all (seniors, teens, mothers, fathers, children) in developing nations. For instance, since the 1990, the global under-5 mortality rate has dropped 56% – 15 000 deaths every day in 2016, compared with 35 000 in 1990. Although this is a huge accomplishment, there are still 15 000 children experiencing chronic pain and suffering. And we should all work together to end this adversity, in order to have a complete victory.

*The links to donate to these organization are listen down below. Also all donations go to help get these children and their families have a brighter future, warm food, fresh water, vaccines, and education.*

 

As a kid I was brought up in one of the finest countries that I believe exists in the world, Canada. I had access to health care, fresh and clean water, education, healthy foods, vitamins, and all other necessities one has a right to in their life. At the time I didn’t consider myself lucky or anything, in fact I didn’t even think about ideas like that. I knew that there were others who were “poor” and “sick” but I didn’t really understand that until I took a trip across the world to a nation, known as the largest democracy as well as also home to most of the poverty existing in the world, India.

I remember going to India when I was about 7 years old. We had gone shopping one day, to one of the largest cities in Punjab – Amritsar. I got out of the car and stepped onto a busy street with my parents’ having a tight grip around my hands, and from the corner of my eye I see another child riding a skateboard sitting down. Initially I thought that he didn’t know how to ride a skateboard – the thought of that left me so surprised- and my eyes were fixed onto him. As my parents and I walk past him I saw something, something that I couldn’t forget even after these 10 days. He was sitting down on the skateboard, wherehe used his hands to push himself to move since he didn’t have any legs. Even now going back to that memory brings tears to my eyes as I still remember him holding his hands out that were covered with blisters, begging for money. I stared at him for a while, surprised that he was still alive, and then pointed him out to my dad, I asked for money so I could give it to him. Without giving me a response, my dad walked up to the boy and asked if he was hungry and tears started to run down the boy’s cheek he smiled and said, “Thank you for noticing me.”

It’s been a decade since this has occurred, and I knew that I now had a responsibility to help children and families who were left unnoticed for years. This experience translates to what my aspiration in life is which is to help provide medical attention to those who simply can’t afford that right of theirs. I’ve recognized that I have an opportunity to help someone see their future and I have an opportunity to put smiles on faces that are used to frowns. I have that opportunity and I’m going to take it.

 

In our society, we can’t live without our phones, laptops, coffee, tea, music, healthy protein shakes, pay per view, shopping, heating, and many more that are considered luxuries by these kids and their families. We dream to earn millions and have huge houses, latest shoes, and nice cars that just scream a high social status. But what these families dream is of our lives. They wish to have a house that has electricity running through it. They aspire to have jobs that doesn’t take advantage of their weaknesses. They desire to have a life that can meet their needs. We wish to have the lives of others, but has the thought of someone wanting to live a life like yours ever come across? Acknowledge it.Think about it. Understand it.

 

“As the wealthiest nation on Earth, I believe the United States has the moral obligation to lead the fight against hunger and malnutrition, and to partner with others.”

  -Barack Obama.

 

 

Online Donations:

 

Sources:

Quimba, Paul . “Medium.com.” Medium.com, 15 Mar. 2016,https://medium.com/@stenivan/stop-giving-money-to-the-poor-1f113989af85

“Www.retailnews.asia.” Www.retailnews.asia, 25 May 2016, https://www.retailnews.asia/child-labour-used-indonesian-tobacco-production-says-ngo/

“Children gif.” Giphy.com, Www.collegetimes.com, 14 Sept. 2016,https://giphy.com/gifs/children-mt7fKoBvzALwk

“Children: Reducing Mortality.” Www.who.int, United Nations, Oct.2017,http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs178/en/

“What are the key health dangers for children?” WHO, World Health Organization,http://www.who.int/features/qa/13/en/

“Childhood Diseases in Africa.” WHO, World Health Organization/UnitedNations,http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs109/en/

“Funds, Programmes, Specialized Agencies and Others.” United Nations, United Nations, http://www.un.org/en/sections/about-un/funds-programmes-specialized-agencies-and-others/. 

tes.marykern17. “Children in Third World Countries.” Login, tes.marykern17,  https://create.piktochart.com/output/1296864-infographic

“UNICEF on Vaccines.” Www.pinterest.ca, https://www.pinterest.ca/suttonfiona/school-unicef-vaccines-assembly/

the fall.

kiranp28Leave a comment

The mistakes made in our adolescence usually angers us and the cloud of regret hovers upon our soul for hours, days, or maybe even weeks. However the mistakes we make unknowingly tend to take a form innocence, no longer building up rage within ourselves nor troubling our existence; but instead these mistakes become an escape and an excuse for laughter as we live through the moment again in our minds. There was this accident that happened when I was just 6-years-old, and this accident takes me back to a place where I was so naive about the consequences of my own doings. This incident had become one of the many realizations that occurred to me as time went on. But I was just a kid – an adamant kid yet understanding.

Oh god the extents that I would go through just to prove that I was right, would lead me to take the most dramatic and drastic step that any 6-year-old kid would think of off the top of their head. But this time, these steps would then eventually lead to my parents hearing the most relieving sentence of words to be heard by a surgeon:

“She’s not going to be blind, everything is going to be normal and just fine.”

It was early fall and the brisk breeze had just begun carrying the rustling leaves off the streets and on to the neighboring lawns that late afternoon. The distant sound of giggles and laughter of best friend and myself had become the only sound, alongside the whistling wind, to be heard from the street. We had spent hours that morning piling up leaves with rakes that dominated our small bodies. The feeling of excitement and rush began to run through my blood as the pile became bigger and bigger.

It was finally done.

I slipped my hands into my bunny knit mittens, and adjusted my pink snowflake hat so that it can lie just above my eyes. I slowly walked back, my eyes fixed onto that pile of brown and orange leaves piled up neatly. After enough distance was between the pile and myself i started to run but then suddenly stopped as I see, from the corner of my eye, my friend leaping into the cushion of the decaying leaves. There she just lays on the bed of the leaves that I had put the effort of putting together.

The excitement and rush was replaced with a sense of betrayal and vexation, as tears began to find their way out of my eyes filled with rage.

I didn’t say a word. I just stormed inside desperately trying to find a pencil and paper.

I wanted to make a contract – a contract to end the friendship between my best friend and I. I didn’t want to share any relationship with her; I was so hurt and I thought that a contract would put a stop to this feeling. I ran down the stairs to the living room to get a pencil and paper, my sniffles, and pink cheeks made it so much more difficult for my eyes to scan the room – I was freezing. There I noticed a pencil and my parent’s phone book and I ripped the paper from the book with anger and began to make my way up the stairs, with the paper in one hand and the sharp pencil held tightly in a fist.I took off at full speed, but as I got to the very top step I slipped and my face fell straight down towards the sharp pencil.

But that didn’t stop me; I got up and started to limp up the stairs but then when my mom came running downstairs to see what the large thud of sound was about. I remember she screamed when she looked at me. I asked her what happened and when I looked down I saw a pool of blood.

My dad came rushing down the stairs – which now I’m thinking about wasn’t so smart to do in a house like mine – while my mom bolted towards me.I still didn’t know what was going on at the time. My mom shrieked to get the car out, while she held a wet warm cloth on the left side of my face. As my dad picked me up in his arms to get me inside the car, I saw a glimpse of my face in my reflection on the car window. There I saw what had happened to me.

It was my eye. I was bleeding. And I still had the pencil in my grip and when I looked down, there was blood all over my hand and that pencil. I started to cry which made things worse. I didn’t feel the pain so I don’t know why the hell I was crying. I just know my mom was in the back seat with me consoling me and telling me not to open my eye. I didn’t know how to react, I wanted to start crying again, but my mom forbid me too. I wanted to scream at my best friend for jumping to the pile of leaves. I wanted to just stop feeling the blood run down my cheek. I JUST WANTED EVERYTHING TO STOP.

From that point on all I remember was that I was put to sleep and given an anesthetic. I don’t recall much after this other than my eye looked like I got punched in the face 10 times harder than a regular punch. It was purple and black, I couldn’t see things properly and had a blurred vision for about two weeks. I was in a lot of pain, every time I woke up in the morning because I would try to open my eye, but I couldn’t. But what I thought was cool was that I was the center of attention because I had family from all over the world just to see me, so I guess the fact that I didn’t get to full fill my “dream” was forgotten.

The reason I find this incident so funny yet memorable is that It happened as a result of me not being able to jump in a stupid pile of leaves. But It also makes me realize that anything can happen anytime, and that I can’t always be lucky. I learned that life doesn’t play safe and you have to be cautious no matter what, even when your just 6-years-old.

Medusa

kiranp28Leave a comment

I’m different – I know that.

But when has that become an excuse for ignorance?

They talk – I hear that.

They talk about how I “waddle” and how unbearable it’s to watch.

They point – I see that.

Their fingers follow me as I force myself to somehow squeeze into my seat.

They hate – I feel that.

no one wants to be friends with a 306 pound girl that just eats.

 

They never asked me if I was okay.

– I ask myself and say no.

These people, they don’t understand me.

They hurt me and ruined me.

Like medusa’s victim’s

they have a heart of stone.