A Weak Mind

Are girls not a future hope,

Do women not possess a voice,

Why are the rights being taken away,

Of living in this stereotyped world?

Yes, girls are the future success,

Women should be allowed to speak up,

Yes, they are silenced and their lives,

Are granted no recognition.

Is gender such a great obstacle,

That some are killed before birth,

That they are silenced, deformed,

And end up losing courage?

The right thing to believe will be,

That women are so capable,

That the world is afraid of them,

Lest they outshine the favoured men,

So the women are silenced.

Have the silent tears no meaning?

Does the love and sacrifice not prove,

That the women are not at fault,

Then why, should they be pushed backwards?

Yes, the tears stand for love,

And the heart shows it all,

Yet the world’s mind is so weak,

That they fail to understand their fault.

So this Women's day, let us pledge to recognise the capability, the beauty, the love, and the value of the prized above all- Women and girls. Let's do away with their fear, and help them lead a good life and give them a chance to prove themselves.

A very Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!!!

HI friends.... read this..... give me a feedback pls...

A Journey Through Obstacles...

One could hear the squeals and shrieks of happy laughter,as could be heard from the dusty,bare ground which lay a few yards in front of the Chakari village in Afghanistan.But the normally bare piece of land,was alive now,with about five black and brown heads,paired with intense grey,black and brown eyes.The Afghan government having closed the local schools about a month ago,the joy of these young people knew no bounds,as they ran and chased each other all round the ground.This friendly and happy young lot were five afghan children,Quadir,meaning powerful and mighty,Zafar,meaning victory and triumph,Aadila,meaning fair and just,Vahida,meaning unique and matchless and Shahnaz,meaning the “pride of the king”.All five were close friends,but Aadila and Vahida being sisters,they were closer to each other.
As their game progressed,they heard a shout,followed by a deafening, booming sound.As the children swung round,they saw raging flames rising from a cluster of huts,which included the dwellings of the five friends too.”Come on! That’s fire,surely! Our huts will be burnt!”cried Aadila,dragging Vahida by the hand.As they ran through the path to their village,Zafar cried,”But where are Ma and Baba?” Though they reached the burning huts fast enough,they were held back by the plump, local police in their brown uniforms,(whom the children used to describe as potatoes in their jackets), who were trying to hold back public by forming a chain.
The area of the huts was swarming with police and people.Gradually,the children were pushed back,until they could no more see through the crowd.They had to sadly walk away,imagining the fate of their parents and their homes.The five friends walked around the other part of the village,hand in hand,with tears brushing against their childish eyes.The door of one of the huts opened,and an old woman with a kindly face looked out.The children knew her well.She was Begum Behnaz,commonly known to the village children as Amma.On seeing the children,she said kindly,”Beta,you look very hungry and unhappy.I’ll tell you-the fire started about one hour ago,when you all were playing.All the huts there were burnt,and….I hate to tell you-but your parents died.Well,why don’t you have dinner with me tonight,and stay with me for a few days,until you decide what to do?I’ll be glad of some company.Come on, bachche.”
As the children followed her inside,they could smell hot seekh kebabs and steaming daal cooking in the kitchen.Amma made the five hungry and red-eyed children sit around the table and served them daal,kebabs,naans and coconut chutney.The five children had their fill,and Amma tucked them into bed.The next morning,Shahnaz said,”Amma,can we go down to the bazaar?Maybe someone knows something about Ma and Baba?Can we go and ask around?”
Amma agreed,and the five children walked down to the market.
The bazaar was bustling with people-women,in colourful salwar kameez,with burqas covering their faces,and men in kurtas and salwars in colourful peshawari and sindhi caps.The hawkers moved here and there,with oranges,apples,onions and garlic on wooden carts and herbs and jasmine flowers, in baskets hung around their necks.The five children walked hand in hand,through the twisting paths of the bazaar,until they stood before a quaint and dark little painter’s shop,which was their destination.As they entered the shop,they saw a hunched little girl,bent over a white canvas,which was partly streaked with red,green and blue.The girl looked
up when the children stepped in.”Hi,Maryam,”the children called out.Maryam’s face lit up on seeing the five.She was an orphan,and ran this painter’s shop with her uncle,Abdul Rahim,who was a well- known and much respected painter in the town.Maryam’s uncle had adopted her and given her a home,only on the condition that she would help him run his shop.When Maryam was seven,he had taught her the art of painting,and now that she was fifteen, she painted quite well,thus proving to be a great help to her uncle,who also approved of her efforts and talent.And now Maryam said,”Well friends,it is good to see you,after such a long time.But why the long faces,deprived of smiles?”she asked,suddenly noticing the sadness on the faces of her friends.The children told her all that had happened,and rather touched,Maryam said,”Then an old arabic tale ought to console you.I am painting the pictures of that very story,and if you would like,I’ll show you the pictures as I narrate….”
The children agreed,and Maryam started narrating the old persian tale of the princess and the white horse.The children listened,hypnotized by the colourful pictures and the folk tale,as Maryam narrated it in her musical and rhythmic voice.But when she was in the middle of her tale,a door that was set in the inner wall of the shop opened,and a dark,stocky man entered the shop.”Maryam,...”began the man,”...oh,I see you have got your friends here!” Maryam quickly apologised.”Oh,I’m sorry uncle,that I delayed the painting work." Abdul Rahim smiled,and quickly said,”well Maryam,as long as your friends are enjoying themselves,it's alright,but make sure you finish the paintings by tomorrow.Goodbye,kiddos!”
The children walked away from Maryam’s shop,and made their way back to their village.They knocked on Amma’s door.But no response.Zafar banged on the strong oakwood door.But still,no answer.”Amma,we’re here!!”Shahnaz and Quadir called out in unison.Vahida threw herself against the door,and the door lock broke.The door flew open,and the children ran inside.
As they tiptoed through the empty house,they heard a noise coming from within the kitchen.They made their way to the kitchen and hid behind a wall.
They saw a man clad in black,holding a gun and prowling round the kitchen.He had their back to them.Aadila began whispering,and the man swung around.He caught sight of something red behind the wall,and he called out something in arabic.The children came out one by one,looking very scared.The taliban (bandit)reached forward to catch Quadir,but all five bolted,and in a matter of seconds,the were out of the house lost among the street-crowd.
Soon they heard a commotion in the street.They saw a number of people following a girl who was dancing with a pair of maracas in her hand.She was beautifully dressed in blue silk and ornaments.Then she sat down in front of a shop and began singing a melodious song.Her voice was like that of a nightingale.The people cheered and clapped.Then the girl got up and went on her way…..
The children walked on and on.It was nearly sunset,and they had given up the idea of returning to Amma’s house.But now they were thinking of a refuge for the night,when they saw the beautiful girl coming towards them.With her was another pretty girl,about the same age.The children supposed them to be sisters.
The two girls were surprised to see the children all alone in the gathering dark.They asked Vahida,”Why are you children alone in the dark?Quick,go home to your parents.Don’t you know that this place is dangerous at night,and that the Talibans will soon be about?”Shahnaz quickly explained the situation.The girls pitied the children.”Poor things! I’m Aziza,and my cousin here is Ozra.Like you,we’re orphans too.There’s quite enough space in our house,and you can live with us.Come on,we’ll be brothers and sisters forever.”said the dancing girl. The children were extremely grateful for the offer,and thanked the girls profusely.Aziza and Ozra led the children to their big,tumbledown hut opposite the market.The girls were not so rich,and there wasn’t enough rice gruel for seven people.So that night,the children slept on half empty stomachs,but peaceful minds and happy hearts.
In the middle of the night,there was disturbance in the peaceful hut.It was Quadir who first heard a sound and awoke.He thought someone had entered the hut,and he went to investigate.His heart lurched as he saw about five men clad in black entering through the door.Quadir recognized one of the men as the bandit in Amma’s house.He slinked away to his bedroom,and woke Zafar.Then he raced to the other rooms and awoke Aziza,Ozra,Shahnaz,Aadila and Vahida,and then he brought everyone into one room.Fortunately,none of the bandits saw them.Quadir explained what he had seen,and Aadila said,”Do you suppose they are after us?” Everyone thought and agreed.They carefully escaped unseen through the back door,including Aziza and Ozra.Shahnaz had a bright idea then.She suggested that they go to Maryam’s house.
But when they reached Maryam’s shop,they stopped in shock.Maryam sat on a stool,weeping and wailing loudly,shedding crocodile tears.As soon as she saw them,Maryam hurriedly dried her tears.Aziza could not contain herself and blurted out,”Why,what happened sister?”Maryam looked surprised,and seeing this,Ozra introduced herself and Aziza.Then she described all the strange happenings at their hut.Maryam then explained her own mishaps.She had been sleeping,and all of a sudden,someone had come in and attacked her uncle.Her uncle had died on the spot,and the murderer had run away.
That night,the children slept with Maryam.The next day,the children went to their village again,and saw one of their village friends packing up.They asked him,and got the knowledge that many people from the village were fleeing to India and pakistan,because of the frequent attacks and murders.The children asked their friend whether they could go to India with him too.
So,off they all went,Aziza,Ozra,and Maryam too,leaving the shadows of afghanistan behind them forever…..

Pls talk, discuss, or even reply! Pls don't be silent!!!

Hi....do you know that what GM tells us is NOT totally correct?

I found this out from the internet-

"The is generally pronounced as 'the' only. But before vowels, it is purely YOUR choice whether you want to say 'the' or 'thee'. Meanwhile, this rule can be according to what you think appropriate. 'Thee' can also be used before something important, which you want to focus upon."

Don't tell GM. She'll say that- "Don't copy Google blindly. SHAME!!!"

Hi....I have made u all owners of this grp except Aayush....I can't make him an owner unless he has been a moderator for at least 2 weeks....one of G+'s rules.......

Pls say something (anything at all!) or even talk about anything you like! This grp was not meant to be silent!!!

Aayush....pls set a cover as well as profile photo....be it anything....so I can recognize you on google plus.....there are about 50 Aayush Bhattacharya's... :-)

thanks aliyah :)

when will aayush join ?
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