My belief on Sex Education especially relating to cultures like India, is that if kids don't get information from the right sources, they will get it from the wrong. Today in the age where anal sex can be googled, most orgasmic sex positions can be youtubed and porn of any kind downloaded easily through Limewire, is it really SMART to not tell kids the facts about sex, pregnancy, parenting, rape etc?
How can girls protect themselves when they don't know if it's okay for a boy to touch her? How can a girl practice safe sex when she doesn't know how a condom works? I respect our culture, our norms and our traditions. Theres a history and purpose behind letting ashes of our dead float in the ganges and throwing color on people and women dancing in a synchronized group in alot of hindi movies, or so i'm lead to believe.
But it's high time we question what has been going on for so long in our country, high time we question if we are exposing ourselves and our children to become victims of sexual predators, victims of various sexually trasmitted diseases or young scared pregnant girls who think the only answer is suicide.
Take off the damn veil for heavens sake, stop pretending sex is oh so bad, not when we are the second populous country in the world, not when we take pride in the invention of the Kama Sutra. I want to be able to explain to my children about love and sex and the joy of having a family. I do NOT want to have to silence my child when he/she asks me about a condom advert we see on TV.
Do we actually believe that ignorance of sex will lead to it not happening? How delusional are we? No, kids today know very early about alot of things that we were scared to ask about as teenagers and STILL can't discuss with our parents. So why can we not have sex education in schools? Why can't we teach our future generation of leaders about the right way to do it and leave them with an education choice?
We are such a bunch of hypocrites...I can't decide if i should laugh or cry...
Read about it here : http://www.dnaindia.com/report.asp?newsid=1249050
And tell me what you think.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Friday, September 19, 2008
Conversation
Girl: Guess what?
Boy: You like bunnies?
Girl: Yes but theres something i like more
Boy: Shoes?
Girl: Sure, and...
Boy: And?
Girl: Dancing so close to you that all i feel is you and all i smell is you
Boy: Why?
Girl: Because it makes me deliciously happy
Boy: You make me feel the same way
Boy: You like bunnies?
Girl: Yes but theres something i like more
Boy: Shoes?
Girl: Sure, and...
Boy: And?
Girl: Dancing so close to you that all i feel is you and all i smell is you
Boy: Why?
Girl: Because it makes me deliciously happy
Boy: You make me feel the same way
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Poem: Memories
Our memories,
They come as a gust of wind,
Lifting me up from reality
And setting me down on clouds
Made up of million moments
We spent together.
I remember you giving me that special smile
Your hair caressing your face
Sharing a joke only we knew
Doing things i still blush about
I will forget the pain one day
I will forget how your skin feels against mine
I will forget how deep the colour in your eyes were
But i won't forget the moments
Those i will clasp in my heart
Just as a treasure chest,
It will be used on days
That i need to be reminded
How happy i can be.
They come as a gust of wind,
Lifting me up from reality
And setting me down on clouds
Made up of million moments
We spent together.
I remember you giving me that special smile
Your hair caressing your face
Sharing a joke only we knew
Doing things i still blush about
I will forget the pain one day
I will forget how your skin feels against mine
I will forget how deep the colour in your eyes were
But i won't forget the moments
Those i will clasp in my heart
Just as a treasure chest,
It will be used on days
That i need to be reminded
How happy i can be.
Prose: Eric's fear
21 April, 2008
Well i wrote this for an assignment i had for scriptwriting, i was supposed to develop a character, well i made a short story out of it. Tell me what you think.
Eric was a pretty normal fellow. He had a routine job at a bank, he didn’t like his cereal too soggy and no matter where he was, his shoes would always be polished to a gleaming shine. He had just turned 27 that year but was still mostly unsuccessful in love. No, the only thing special about Eric was his irrational fear of water.
It had all started simply enough. My mother had been forced to endure watching her sister struggle against a powerful water current that dragged her down despite her struggles and inevitably drown. I don’t think the mental image of my sister’s body being dragged out of the water ever truly left her mind. So it was with this fear crippling my mother’s life that I was raised. My mother never let me go for swimming lessons, I went to the beach maybe twice in my life and both times with friends. I couldn’t even bring myself to walk barefoot on the shore both times.
After her death, my mother’s most persistent reminder became my Aqua-phobia. And like wine, with time, the fear only became more nagging and persistent. I had never been on a boat or ship. I dreaded having showers and the thought of a lounging in a bathtub full of water scared me more than any horror story ever could.
My fear got so intense and crippling that I would inevitably scare away any girl interested in dating me. The incident with Stacy comes to mind. It had been 2 months since I’d been dating her, she obviously knew all about my fear. But being my girlfriend and a woman, she had to find a way to “help me”. So for our 2 month anniversary she promised me a special surprise. Turned out it was a romantic dinner, candle light, violinist, the works, on a boat. Needless to say, when she finally let me open my eyes and see her work, I flew into an exaggerated rage, blaming her for not understanding, for belittling my fears and for trying to fix something that was none of her business. I wounded her pretty badly that night and I never heard from her again. Her pretty face covered in fresh salty tears is the last image I have of her in my mind.
Following that promising relationship, I sank into a heavy depression, until a co-worker worried about me and low productivity recommended a therapist. Therapy was something I would never have considered prior to my state of depression but at that low point in my life, I didn’t have much to lose. My therapist examined me, reassured me that my case was quite normal and asked me to find a small simple way to feel safer in water. He suggested the obvious, basic swimming lessons, a shallow pool with a trainer, he said gradually I would become desensitised to it. Well I found the idea very disturbing. I read the statistics online. I remember reading that a swimming pool was 14 times more likely to kill a child of 4 or under than a motor vehicle. Water was dangerous, it killed people everyday, I didn’t understand why I needed to overcome this fear. I had survived fine so far.
Two nights after the suggestion had been made by Dr. Nox, I woke up from one of my routine nightmares, I was in a boat that was slowly but surely filling up with water. I was going to drown, it was always with this knowledge and fear that I woke up thrashing in my bed, arms flailing, in my groggy state hoping for someone to rescue me. That night however, I was thirsty. I got out of bed, filled a cup with cold water and sat at my dinning table. It was that same night that I found respite from my depression. As I sat staring at that cup of water, watching the drops of water on the outside, drip down slowly, I saw a cockroach running across my kitchen floor. I don’t like cockroaches, who does? But It also didn’t particularly freak me out if I saw one once in a while in my house.
But something eerie happened to me right then. Instinctively I went on all fours, held out my palm and waited. A few seconds later the cockroach crawled up to my hand, just like I knew it would. Carefully I closed my palm, the bug safely clasped inside. Then gently I dropped it into the cup of water. I watched it struggle pathetically against the glass as it tried to escape. I wondered if it was thinking, “How the fuck did I get here?”, and then I just burst out laughing until tears fell from my eyes and then I only laughed harder. The bugger was persistent, I watched it for 20 minutes just bobbing around, and then I tapped the glass with my finger and went to bed.
In the morning the cup of glass lay on the table just as I had left it, with the dead cockroach inside. And thus began my weekly ritual of creature killing. It would be a whole host of different bugs, anything I found, anything that took my fancy. I tried ants, beetles, even flies. And as I would watch them struggle and drown, somehow I would feel better. Like I was proving to the world and these tiny helpless creatures what I knew all along- That water was merciless, it was cruel, it was dangerous and I would be damned if I let it kill me just as it had with those pathetic insects.
Well i wrote this for an assignment i had for scriptwriting, i was supposed to develop a character, well i made a short story out of it. Tell me what you think.
Eric was a pretty normal fellow. He had a routine job at a bank, he didn’t like his cereal too soggy and no matter where he was, his shoes would always be polished to a gleaming shine. He had just turned 27 that year but was still mostly unsuccessful in love. No, the only thing special about Eric was his irrational fear of water.
It had all started simply enough. My mother had been forced to endure watching her sister struggle against a powerful water current that dragged her down despite her struggles and inevitably drown. I don’t think the mental image of my sister’s body being dragged out of the water ever truly left her mind. So it was with this fear crippling my mother’s life that I was raised. My mother never let me go for swimming lessons, I went to the beach maybe twice in my life and both times with friends. I couldn’t even bring myself to walk barefoot on the shore both times.
After her death, my mother’s most persistent reminder became my Aqua-phobia. And like wine, with time, the fear only became more nagging and persistent. I had never been on a boat or ship. I dreaded having showers and the thought of a lounging in a bathtub full of water scared me more than any horror story ever could.
My fear got so intense and crippling that I would inevitably scare away any girl interested in dating me. The incident with Stacy comes to mind. It had been 2 months since I’d been dating her, she obviously knew all about my fear. But being my girlfriend and a woman, she had to find a way to “help me”. So for our 2 month anniversary she promised me a special surprise. Turned out it was a romantic dinner, candle light, violinist, the works, on a boat. Needless to say, when she finally let me open my eyes and see her work, I flew into an exaggerated rage, blaming her for not understanding, for belittling my fears and for trying to fix something that was none of her business. I wounded her pretty badly that night and I never heard from her again. Her pretty face covered in fresh salty tears is the last image I have of her in my mind.
Following that promising relationship, I sank into a heavy depression, until a co-worker worried about me and low productivity recommended a therapist. Therapy was something I would never have considered prior to my state of depression but at that low point in my life, I didn’t have much to lose. My therapist examined me, reassured me that my case was quite normal and asked me to find a small simple way to feel safer in water. He suggested the obvious, basic swimming lessons, a shallow pool with a trainer, he said gradually I would become desensitised to it. Well I found the idea very disturbing. I read the statistics online. I remember reading that a swimming pool was 14 times more likely to kill a child of 4 or under than a motor vehicle. Water was dangerous, it killed people everyday, I didn’t understand why I needed to overcome this fear. I had survived fine so far.
Two nights after the suggestion had been made by Dr. Nox, I woke up from one of my routine nightmares, I was in a boat that was slowly but surely filling up with water. I was going to drown, it was always with this knowledge and fear that I woke up thrashing in my bed, arms flailing, in my groggy state hoping for someone to rescue me. That night however, I was thirsty. I got out of bed, filled a cup with cold water and sat at my dinning table. It was that same night that I found respite from my depression. As I sat staring at that cup of water, watching the drops of water on the outside, drip down slowly, I saw a cockroach running across my kitchen floor. I don’t like cockroaches, who does? But It also didn’t particularly freak me out if I saw one once in a while in my house.
But something eerie happened to me right then. Instinctively I went on all fours, held out my palm and waited. A few seconds later the cockroach crawled up to my hand, just like I knew it would. Carefully I closed my palm, the bug safely clasped inside. Then gently I dropped it into the cup of water. I watched it struggle pathetically against the glass as it tried to escape. I wondered if it was thinking, “How the fuck did I get here?”, and then I just burst out laughing until tears fell from my eyes and then I only laughed harder. The bugger was persistent, I watched it for 20 minutes just bobbing around, and then I tapped the glass with my finger and went to bed.
In the morning the cup of glass lay on the table just as I had left it, with the dead cockroach inside. And thus began my weekly ritual of creature killing. It would be a whole host of different bugs, anything I found, anything that took my fancy. I tried ants, beetles, even flies. And as I would watch them struggle and drown, somehow I would feel better. Like I was proving to the world and these tiny helpless creatures what I knew all along- That water was merciless, it was cruel, it was dangerous and I would be damned if I let it kill me just as it had with those pathetic insects.
Poem: A kiss
13 February, 2008
A valentine post because tomorrow is V-day afterall. This goes out especially to you feel. Happy valentines. Have a good valentines everyone. Hopefully with people who you love and love you back. Mine will be eventful, even if it is incomplete.
What is a kiss?
But a brief encounter of lips
Like that amazing connection
Of hearts and minds
It could be as light
as the flutter
of a butterfly’s wings
on your eye lids
or as passionate
as the anticipation of 2 lovers
longing for immediate retribution
for being apart
and why does a kiss?
Seem to say so many things
I miss you
I love you
I think you’re beautiful
And dampens the pain of
Goodbye
I’m sorry
My feelings have changed
A valentine post because tomorrow is V-day afterall. This goes out especially to you feel. Happy valentines. Have a good valentines everyone. Hopefully with people who you love and love you back. Mine will be eventful, even if it is incomplete.
What is a kiss?
But a brief encounter of lips
Like that amazing connection
Of hearts and minds
It could be as light
as the flutter
of a butterfly’s wings
on your eye lids
or as passionate
as the anticipation of 2 lovers
longing for immediate retribution
for being apart
and why does a kiss?
Seem to say so many things
I miss you
I love you
I think you’re beautiful
And dampens the pain of
Goodbye
I’m sorry
My feelings have changed
Poem: Despair
12 February, 2008
lol, i am just going all out with the updates on my blog these last couple of days, prob cause it'll be another 6/7 months before the tirade of blog updates will flood my space again. So this is a poem i wrote a long time ago and found and then thought hey, i should put this on my space. That's what its there for right? Besides what with me going all gaga on love again in my prev posts, i think we all needed this
Pain within her soul,
The world is closing in.
Even a diamond is soiled,
Only darkness, only despair,
Only shadows in the light,
No more breath to fight.
Her belief in God struggles through,
But she is dragged from within.
Searches for a friend who doesn’t exist,
And a love who loves someone else.
Until even hope is washed away,
Like words fruitlessly written on the beach.
Darkness on both sides of her lids,
Darkness that holds a million horrors,
And so she falls again,
As she tries to run away from her sins,
Only to drop into the pit of hell,
And boil forever more.
lol, i am just going all out with the updates on my blog these last couple of days, prob cause it'll be another 6/7 months before the tirade of blog updates will flood my space again. So this is a poem i wrote a long time ago and found and then thought hey, i should put this on my space. That's what its there for right? Besides what with me going all gaga on love again in my prev posts, i think we all needed this
Pain within her soul,
The world is closing in.
Even a diamond is soiled,
Only darkness, only despair,
Only shadows in the light,
No more breath to fight.
Her belief in God struggles through,
But she is dragged from within.
Searches for a friend who doesn’t exist,
And a love who loves someone else.
Until even hope is washed away,
Like words fruitlessly written on the beach.
Darkness on both sides of her lids,
Darkness that holds a million horrors,
And so she falls again,
As she tries to run away from her sins,
Only to drop into the pit of hell,
And boil forever more.
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