Words of a Lunatic Scribbler

I scrolled through my news feeds as I came across a picture of pigs been beaten up to death so that people like us can have our afternoon brunch. That picture gave me chill down my spine as that picture split into many images of animals being illtreated. Dogs being abandoned and fed as animal food in zoo. Cows being cut down for grilling steaks. Bulls being tortured for the sake of cultural rituals. Goats and buffaloes being sacrificed for the sake of satisfying god. Polar bears, tigers, deer being skinned for the sake of fashion of animal prints. These are not even 50% of the pain that animals suffer. There are many unspoken truths about the darker side of animal life. God created the universe with a concept of peace and love, he was little aware that his most wise creation will change into something unstoppably destructative killing every other creature for his sake. The concept of human rights is an age old thing having  improvements throughout the process of hu...

''Waan waaan'' ''Dad I want this balloon,please daddy.'' ''Peek-a-boo'' ''That's my candy, don't touch it.'' I stood there silently surrounded by the innocence of these children enjoying their salad of life: CHILDHOOD. A baby crying, a small child pleading for a mere balloon, a kid playing peek-a-boo with her mom and two little sibling fighting over a candy, its all messed up, but my eyes see something else in it, an essence of spring that they have in them that we dont have anymore. Childhood is a very tender time where we get the opportunity to mould ourselves into whatever we want. It happens with everyone, being a kid we want to live a life as an adult but thats a child's fantasy, but as we grow up healing wounds of betrayal, stitching the torn cloth of failure, jumping over the huddles of life, we understand the value of those 15 years that we left behind chasing the fantasy of becoming an adult. Now...

''Travelling back to home from school in my dad's favorite car,driver uncle made me sit on the front seat. I dont know why he started touching my thighs, I was only telling him what happened in the school but he touched me everywhere and I was just numb. Should I tell my mom about it? Or should I be silent?'' These were the unspoken words of a girl molested by her family driver. The little girl travelling back to home in a classy car belonging to a high class family facing such kind of situation. Lust donot see age,class or place. Every minute one or the other child is been molested by our so called ''Elder'' breed of humans. How can someone do this to these little ones? The world is full of such kind of people who are blind in lust, but here comes the real catch, may be one cannot completely end the existance of such kind of people but as we know ''Precaution is better than cure.'' So seeing the current situation of our civilization...

I stood there silently as students got down the bus. There was a kind of hustle bustle among those young minds. Smileless faces, eyebrows centred to forehead, a vibe of tension drove through the scene. I stood there silently trying to understand what was actually going on. Tensed faces,sad faces, aggressive faces flashed infront of me. Time passed by and a man came infront and placed a slap on the innocent face, I couldn't understand why? Some other people joined and started hitting the two innocent men. I stood there silently seeing the horrifying scene still couldnot figure out what was going on? Hitted badly, bleeding and wiping hard, negative energy spread through out the space. I stood there silently as I was a mere 'tree' watching the whole scene without uttering a word in pain. I wanted to know the difference between the men at the both end of the stick. All I could figure out was- one was wearing good clothes and the other was in worn out clothes. May be this is ...

Life, many people have defined this word as life is a race. Yes it is definitely a race but for me I would define life as a canvas, a plain canvas. We all are placed on the earth for a purpose and that purpose is to paint the canvas and finish the painting of life. Eleanor Powell once said: ''What we are is God’s gift to us. What we become is our gift to God.'' That is exactly how life works. Our beginning point i.e. our birth is fixed but where we lead ourselves is totally in our hands. We have the hues and paint brush, all we have to do is choose the right colour and paint our heart out. Life is not as hard as a race but it is as beautiful and meaningful as a painting. -A Lunatic Scribbler.   

As the airplane landed on the land of dreams, a vibe of positivity ran through my veins. The city welcomed me with rain. The rain of Bombay is different, as the rain drops ran down my skin I felt really fresh. The people of Mumbai, popularly known as the Mumbaikars are really open minded and are free from everything, even though each and everyone is struggling for something or the other they manage to keep an energizing smiles on their pretty faces. The best part of this ''Mayanagri'' is everyone is busy, there are really no nights. All have kept themselves busy in some kind of work irrespective of their age & gender. And to add to the Mumbaikars' glory-everyone is filmy. No doubt the land of Bollywood influences the very cell of mumbaikars' bodies. Starting from the black and yellow taxi drivers to the hotel staffs all are Bollywood lovers and are full of energy. The Pav Bhaji and Vada Pav created an impression on my taste buds. The Gateway of India, ...