For decades, one of the many superstitions plaguing us, is that of stopping in our tracks if a cat runs across the street. It is believed that, if you pass through the road, just after a cat has crossed it, it'll bring severe bad luck & may result in fatal accidents. Everyday, on some road or the other, you'll find superstitious drivers waiting in the middle of the road, because of a scampering feline. They'll wait for some other non-suspecting vehicle to pass before them, thus nullifying the effect of the curse!

Well, all superstitions originate because of some reason, & this particular superstition too has a reason behind it. The story goes, that in Britain, sometime in the 1800s, every single house on every single street, owned a cat. In those days, the concept of family planning not being in vogue, every household had a large brood of kids. The kids spent their time playing with their pet cat. Now, cats being highly independent(sometimes bordering on disinterested,disobedient,disloyal traits) creatures, would often run out of the houses into the streets. The kids too, would follow. This obviously led to a large number of accidents. The vehicles on the streets, would often end up killing a poor-little-innocent child in search of his not so poor-liitle-innocent pet cat.

To put a stop to these accidents, a law was passed, that said, each vehicle should immediately stop in their tracks if they see a cat on the road, for it would mean that some children would definitely not be far behind. As time passed, the people outgrew their fascination for cats. The number of cat-owning households fell. Kids, stopped running out into the streets after their cats. Accidents stopped. The law was eventually forgotten & discarded. But, the one thing still continued. Vehicles still stopped in their tracks, if a cat crossed their path. Slowly, the noble cause behind the stopping-of-cars was compleetly wiped off from memory, & all that remained was, a stupid old superstition!!

So, the next time you stop your car on seeing a cat cross your path, remember this story. And don't forget to catch a glimpse of the cat's face. It just might be having a sniggering laugh at your expense!!

There he stands in the corner. Barefeet. Clad in a white vest with holes & a dhoti. He stands there with the dhaak, almost doubling up with the weight of the instrument. The organiser tells him to play the dhaak from time to time. He obeys. Suddenly the sound of dhaak bursts into the pandal. He is playing the dhaak in a frenzy. Smoke from the arati engulfs the pandal. The sound of the bell in the hands of the pujari fills the air. But it all gets engulfed by the sound of the dhaak. Strong, singular, powerful, exhilarating,invigorating, towering above everything else. That's how the sound of the dhaak is. Wait. That description matches that of Maa Durga too! Maybe she resides in the dhaak. Thats what gives the old, frail dhaaki to play the dhaak in such a frenzy. Thats what gives him the strength to continue playing for hours at a stretch, to stand barefeet in the magnum pandal for hours, the strength to continue playing without thinking of his own joy or his family,the strength to swallow the harsh words & insults from the organisers if he slips in his job,the strength to withstand the huge crowd which doesn't even bother to glance at the dhaki, the strength to supress his jealousy when he sees all the people wearing new clothes & wasting money,while he struggles to draw up just two square meals a day for himself & his family.

But its the festive spirit. Its the joyous time of the year, when everyone is busy frolicking, forgetting all their differences & troubles. Its the time to be happy. But isnt it also the time to keep others happy? Cant we spare a thought for all those who are not so lucky to celebrate & join the festive spirit? Cant we care for the old,frail dhaaki standing in a corner of the pandal, or the 12-year old balloon seller who instead of spending a happy time pandal hopping with other kids, is roaming around streets looking for customers so that he can have a proper meal, or the man selling hats & whistles,struggling to find customers to buy his cheap ware,or maybe the old woman standing at the pandal asking for alms?

It's time we look around us. It's time we start caring. Durga pujo is all about ending of evil. So its time we come forward & take an initiative to end the evils plaguing our society.

Letter From Diya

Rummaging through old books,
I found it.
A letter.
Old, brown & spotted.
A letter from my grandmother.
A letter from Diya.


The letter has a smell.
A peculiarly, familiar smell.
The smell of old books &
all things forgotten?
No.Its her.
I smell her in the letter.
She is with me again.
Invisible yet present.
Intangible yet full-bodied.
I can feel her again.
Feel her after nine,long years.


The year 2000, reads the letter.
She writes about her trip to the U.S.A,
Her visits to the Niagra Falls
& the Yellowstone National park.
Her excitement is visible.
Infectious even.
I read the letter thrice.
Each time scourging the letter,
to find any missed detail,
to find something New.
I find Nothing.
The letter does not change.


The letter is meant for a 10-year old.
As I read it,
I find myself transforming.
Transforming into the 10-year old ME.
The girl,who received the letter,
nine,long years ago.
A girl, bubbling with excitement
on receiving an American stamped letter.


As I read the letter,
I realise how much I miss her.
Nine years is a long time.
Time is a fast healer,they say.
It makes you forget.
But one look at the letter,
& I know its all false.
As long as I live,
I will always love & miss her.
My Diya.
The letter is not a letter anymore.
Its her.
She lives in it.Its her.
The woman I call Diya.

The Perfect Rings of Smoke

One.Two.Three. Three perfect rings of smoke went up in the air. Atin was smoking again. The wall clock showed tthe time as 2p.m in the afternoon & Atin was already smoking his 20th cigarette. Today had been very stressful for Atin. Atin looked up at the smoke rings in the air. Perfect circles. He smiled. The smoker Atin could create such perfect circles, which even the artist Atin couldn't!

Atin was painter by profession,specializing in portraits. Hailing from a well-to-do family, Atin had been sent to Paris for attendind a famous art school. After returning to India, Atin had made a name for himself. Although Atin was an extremely jovial & likeable person, there was one habit, which Atin just couldn't get rid of. Or perhaps,didn't want to. Chain smoking. Atin would finish off 50 cigarettes in a day & the habit was getting worse. Atin needed a cigarette in his mouth all the time & his craving was growing by the day.

Atin's family has been trying for the past few years to free him of the habit, but to no avail. Atin would always pursue the same line of argument. "Why don't you quit smoking? Don't you read the newspapers or watch on TV how harmful it is for you? Don't you know it can prove fatal for you?" "Baba, please, not again! How many times do I have to tell you, that I'm a creative person and people like us need such addictions to beat the stress. Besides, what's bothering you? i'm smoking with my own money! It's my money & i decide how to spend it. You can object the day I ask you for money! Now if you will please excuse me, I have work to do." Atin's father would leave the studio in a huff. the father-son arguments have become common in the house, but Atin's smoking habit remains unaltered.

Atin passed two more smoke rings in the air. It was the year 2001, Atin remembered. The year he went to Paris. His peers out there, smoked, did drugs & were heavy drinkers. Atin tried refraining from these habits, but peer pressure did him in. " Hey Atin, come smoke a joint with us!" "Hey buddy! wanna smoke?" From one to three & by the time Atin left Paris, he was smoking 30 cigarettes per day!!

Atin passed another smoke ring. Curiously today, Atin was finding it difficult to smoke. Today, Atin's closest friend Smarak had passed away. "Lung cancer", said the doctor. Smarak too had been a chain smoker like Atin. For the past one month, Smarak had suffered a lot. Painful chemotherapy sessions had robbed him of his hair, but hadn't been successful with the deadly cancer cells. Atin visited Smarak everyday at the hospital. Atin couldn't believe that the ghastly looking, shrivelled up man lying on the hospital bed, coughing up blood, was once a tall, well-built man, with whom Atin had spent hours talking & smoking away. The doctor said, it was Smarak's smoking habit which proved fatal for him.

Every puff Atin smoked, made him remember Smarak's ghastly face & his pitiable condition in the hospital. Desperate to wipe off those unpleasant memories, Atin lighted up his 21st cigarette. He was deeply moved by the loss of his dear friend & tried to calm himself by smoking. He tried remembering all the happy hours he had spent with Smarak. But try as he might, all he could think of was Smarak suffering in the hospital & coughing up blood.Atin tightly shut his eyes & tried remembering Smarak's smiling face. But the face that came up infront of him, was far from smiling. It was a shrivelled up face, with the skin clinging onto the bones & the eye sockets abnormally large. The mouth hung open as if letting out a soundless wail. Then, slowly, Smarak's face turned into a skull-face, laughing menacingly. Horrified, Atin opened his eyes. He was shivering. Smarak's death had been a huge shock to him & now after this experience, Atin was a bundle of nerves.

In a bid to soothe his nerves, Atin went up to the empty canvas in his studio. He had made up his mind to paint a portrait of Smarak. A happy & smiling Smarak. Atin picked up the paintbrush. As soon as he did that, Atin went into a trance. He no longer had any control over his hands. But his hands moved toward the colour palette, & then the paintbrush moved towards the empty canvas. Atin watched in awe as different strokes coloured the canvas. Atin's hands were moving furiously fast over the canvas. Within minutes, the portrait was complete.

Atin was shocked. What he saw infront of him, jerked him out of his trance. there infront of him,stood the canvas with the finished portrait. But the portrait was not of Smarak. The portrait showed a man's face resembling a bony skull. The man's face had shrivelled up & the eye sockets were abnormally large. The mouth hung open. there was blood on the man's clothes. And in the background, there was smoke. Cigarette smoke, Atin told himself. Cigarette smoke with perfect rings of smoke going up. The face looked similar to the image of Smarak, that Atin had dreamt of a few minutes back. Only this time it wasn't Smarak. A chill went down Atin's spine. For the face that was staring out at atin from the canvas, was none other than Atin himself!

Dumbfounded, Atin sat down. He couldn't figure out why he drew such a self-portrait. A weird idea struck him. Maybe it was Smarak who made him do this. Maybe Smarak was trying to show Atin, his future if he kept smoking. The doctor's words rang in Atin's ears. "His smoking habit proved to be fatal for him". Terrified, Atin stubbed out his cigarette. And in that very moment, he pledged that he wouldnt touch another cigarette for the rest of his life.

The News At 10:00

Ayesha sat nervously infront of the TV. Only ten more minutes before the 10 o'clock news starts.She didnt remember having waited so eagerly for the news, EVER in her life! She gave a nervous giggle and fretted with her hair.
Tonight was special.Tonight Vikrant Jaiswal,the self-made millionaire businessman,is going to announce his wedding,during his interview on the 10 o'clock news.Vikrant Jaiswal. Ayesha's fiance. The love of her life. Vikrant was everything Ayesha had ever dreamt of. If there existed a prince charming, it had to be Vikrant! The man with whom Ayesha dreamt of riding into the sunset.
9:53p.m. Ayesha was growing restless. She remembered how she had met Vikrant for the first time. Ayesha was the newsreader for a private news channel. Intelligent,witty,attractive,Ayesha was brilliant at her job. This ensured that she covered all the important prime-time stories. So when the channel decided to do cover the success story of Vikrant Jaiswal, Ayesha was the obvious choice to interview him. Vikrant arrived on time ad before the camreas started rolling, he had started a banter with Ayesha. The interview lasted for twenty minutes, but Ayesha and Vikrant kept talking late into the night. Ayesha had been floored by Vikrant.
It took two more meetings between the two,for them to realize that they were in love. Ayesha thought Vikrant was caring,loving,supportive,modest,down-to-earth,and intelligent. Everything she looked for in a man. Vikrant on the other hand fell in love with Ayesha's intelligence,her determination and sincerity towards whatever she did. Both of them were brutally honest, a quality which both of them admired. The two of them became inseparable.
After a whirlwind romance of a month,Vikrant took Ayesha out on a cruise & there amidst red roses & soft music playing in the background,he popped the big question to Ayesha. Needless to say,Ayesha agreed immediately with tears of joy sparkling in her eyes. Finally, today Vikrant was going to announce to the world, that he was getting married to Ayesha.
9:58p.m. Ayesha suddenly had an anxiety attack. She tried calming herself thinking that she would be able to see Vikrant's smiling face on the TV screen in just a few moments. But ominous thoughts kept flooding her mind. She tried her best to ward them off, but was unsuccessful. She sat biting her nails and looking nervously at the clock ticking away.
9:59p.m. Ayesha switched on the TV. Although she felt happy and excited, she couldnt really ignore the strange thoughts playing in her mind. One more minute to go before the BIG MOMENT. 10:00p.m. The news started. But instead of Vikrant's interview, the "BREAKING NEWS" sign flashed across the TV screen. Ayesha got impatient. She clicked her tongue in irritation. Then suddenly,something she saw on TV, hit her like a bolt of lightning. The entire room swirled around her. She felt like she was sinking helplessly into an endless pit of darkness. Nothing around her was making sense. She was falling into a hole with no end. Stretching her arms out, Ayesha tried holding onto anything that she could grab. Catching hold of a chair,she caught it with both her hands, and with a huge effort, sunk into the chair.
Ayesha couldnt believe what she saw on TV. She did not kow what to do. Trembling and shaking she felt helpless. Her mind drifted to the images she saw on TV. The same images were being played over and over again in the news. Ayesha blankly stared at the TV screen.
"BREAKING NEWS" flashed across the screen. Then the images of the mangled remains of a car on the road. There had been an accident on the highway. The car had collided with a truck going in the wrong lane and being driven way beyond the speed limit. The passenger inside the car had died on the spot in the impact of the crash. The truck driver had escaped with minor injuries. Images of the dead man were being shown. The body was soaked in blood. A shiver ran through Ayesha's spine. Then the voice of the news anchor,giving details of the accident. "Businessman Vikrant Jaiswal, aged 28, dies in car crash on Highway 36. Jaiswal's car collided with a truck which was going in the wrong lane and off the speed limit. Vikrant Jaiswal died on the spot. The truck driver,who was drunk,escaped with minor injuries. He has been arrested and taken into custody by the police. Vikrant Jaiswal, was on his way to our news station for an interview. Our correspondent Akash is present at the site of the car crash. We will get the details from him. 'Akash can you hear me? At what time......' ". Ayesha switched off the TV.
Her phone started ringing. Friends and relatives were calling after hearing the tragic news. Ayesha switched off her phone. She wanted to be alone. The 10 o'clock news. It was the place where they had met & where Vikrant was going to announce their wedding. It turned out to be the place, which brought an end to her dreams. The place where she saw her Vikrant, going away from her life forever. Her world had come crashing down. Silently wiping off her tears, Ayesha made her way into the bedroom. She sat down infront of a framed picture of the two of them. Vikrant smiled at her out of the photograph.
Clutching the photograph to her heart, Ayesha closed her eyes and began dreaming. Dreaming of riding into the sunset with Vikrant. Ayesha smiled in her dream. She had always thought Vikrant was the stuff dreams are made of. Now Vikrant has been reduced to just that. A dream. A happy dream. A single drop of tear rolled down her cheek.

FLYING AWAY

This is a poem written by me when I was in the 9th standard.
I wonder how it feels to fly.
Into the clear blue sky,
or between the shredded clouds.
I wonder how it feels to
stretch wings of freedom
into the limitless horizon.
I wonder how it feels to
soak in the warm rays of the sun in your wings,
or to be rainkissed in the first bouts of monsoon
while you fly.
I wonder how it feels to
be soaring above everyone.
Do you feel majestic?
I wonder how it feels to
dance with the wind
or be embraced by it,while you fly.
I wonder how it feels to fly over borders,over the seas and the mountains.
Is the sky any different on that
side of the border?
Are the sun's rays warmer?
Do the rain or wind seem any different?
I envy you as you fly away.
Fly away into forbidden land.
The land across the border,
while I remain here bound by
chains of restriction and restraint.
I want to be free.
Teach me how to fly,
how to spread my wings and fly away.
I want to see the world.
Not through picture in books.
I want to fly over the seas and the oceans
and the mountains.
Take me with you.
Set me free.
I want to know how it feels to fly.

Odd Feelings

Have any of you ever experienced a high when helping someone? No matter how unimportant that help might be? Have you? Well,I experience it.. Whenever someone calls me for help,I get a high.. When the person I'm helping out, thanks me or gives me a word of praise,i get a high..Its true..I dont know how to explain this..But I experience complete bliss in that moment.. I kind of like people liking and appreciating me..I like it when people say good things about me..Everyone does,I am sure,but I'm not sure if everyone gets a high out of it!! If this leads someone to conclude that I like to help people so that I can get compliments and praises in return,then let me assure you thats definitely not true.. Its my basic nature to help people..But its only recently that I discovered that I get a high out of doing so.. I dont know whether what I feel is right or wrong.. I dont know what it makes me.. Maybe a conceited,selfish person you would say..I cant argue with you and prove you wrong,'coz honestly I dont know the truth! I dont know what I should be doing to stop the way I feel..Or whether I should stop the way I feel or whether its perfectly normal to feel this way..I dont know..I dont have an answer..

THE BALD OLD MAN

I have known a nearly bald old man,with spectacles,for all the 19years of my life. The old man,who had been a pillar of strength for me. An extremely protective and caring old man.

He was extremely particular about what I ate. He would call up Ma to make sure I was eating right! He had a special fascination for fruits,especially mangoes!! :) He had a white cloth bag with which he would go out everyday and return with the bag laden with fruits. And since he loved mangoes,he made sure everyone had their share of the king of fruits,every summer. So,at the onset of every summer,I would receive a certain amount of money from him,just to buy mangoes!! Although I hate mangoes myself, I gave in to his demands of spending the "mango-money" on buying mangoes and having them too!! & that was quite a challenging and daunting task for me.

My studies were a cause of enthusiasm to him.Ever since i was a babbling,bawling kid,the bald old man was convinced I had the spark of a genius. Its a completely different case altogether, that noone else shared his viewpoint. But the bald old man was not to be deterred! I am told that in a school interview at the age of 3-4,I was shown a fruit basket filled with the usual fruits as well as cucumber,carrots etc. When asked what it was, I had replied "SALAD"!! ;) I guess the "genius" in me had let out its "spark" in the interview!! Now obviously you can all conclude what the result of that interview had been. But the bald old man had said "see,she gave such an intelligent answer! the school authorities ought to take her in". Such was his faith in me!!Anything that concerned my school life interested him. Whether it be my exams,or some competitions I took part in,my results,the new books that came in each class.....After giving every exam,he was the first person to know how my exam went. If i did not fare well in something, he would call 3-4 times a day to cheer me up and offer words of encouragement.

As a kid,I used to count him as one of my playmates. We would play all sorts of make-believe games,with him being anyhting i asked him to be. Station master,shopkeeper, bus conductor, detective, any damn thing! The bald,old man was also very interested in anything new,be it computers,mobiles,digital cameras. When Baba bought him a mobile, the bald old man was as excitd as a kid gets on getting a new toy!! He spent hours examining the mobile and discussing with me how it worked,how he could operate it,whether my mobile was different from his,whether he could click pictures with it etc etc....Another of his great loves, were watches.. He wore a watch at all times of the day,even while sleeping. A habit which has grown on me. And he was very particular about the brand of watch. It necessarily had to be Titan.

My birthdays were the days he would get the most excited. Even more excited than myself. & thats saying something! Really!! The bald old man made sure he was with me on each of my birthday,except for the last one. He would be extremely involved and wanted to know how many guests were coming,what was being cooked that day,what i would be wearing......The birthday present from him was always very very special..'coz whatever he gave me,he would make sure to write a few lines on top of it.. :) But perhaps the most precious thing that he has ever given me is my name, Deblina. The name which is my identity,the name with which i am known,and the name which will remain with me forever...

On my last birthday,the bald old man lay on a hospital bed,diagnosed with cancer,battling for life..Inspite of being so critically ill,he still remembered my birthday & when Baba went to visit him all that the bald old man asked him was how my birthday was celebrated! The old man passed away a day after my birthday,leaving a huge void in my life. people said he was 86,it was time for him to go.. I disagree. For an 86 year old man,with the spirit of a young child raring to go,full of life,& always enthusiastic & excited about everything,NO AGE is the RIGHT time to go,'coz such people are rare..Rare and unique..

I have so many memories with the bald old man..memories which seem like a treasure trove to me..memories that will cherished forever..memories of the man,who was & will always be an integral part of my life. The man who lives in almost everything I do..The man whose words and thoughts echo in my mind all the time..The man who has had such a huge hand in making me who I am today..The man whom I'll dearly miss.. The man whose place cannot be taken by anybody in this world.. The man for whom i was "Sona".. The bald old man.. The bald old man who was, is,& will always be MY GRANDFATHER......

CHILDHOOD SECRETS

I think everyone has some fond childhood memories..memories which will always be there with you,throughout your life..some which even if you try to forget,you will be reminded of at family gatherings and be laughed at!! yes they can be outright embarassing,some of them can even make you wish that you could go hide in the centre of the earth!! ;) but those were the fun days!! just felt like sharing some childhood secrets of mine....... enjoy!!

1. I used to be a cry baby..would cry at the drop of a hat..

2.Loved chasing cockroaches with my slippers n then mercilessly banging them to death!! yeah i guess i was one freaky kid..but trust me it was sooooo much fun!! just try it once!!

3.Every single morning,while brushing my teeth i asked my father the same questions :"baba,kanad ki bole?" "baba, bubu koto boro holo?" "baba,moni ki bole?" kanad n moni are childhood buddies n bubu is my cousin..

4.I used to think that the british ruled india immediately after the dinosaur age!!i had asked my maternal grandmother,"diya tumi british der dekhecho?" when she said yes..my immediate question was "tahole to tumi dinosaur der o dekhecho na?" ;)

5.I wanted to be a princess when i grew up..*sigh* (my next door neighbour rik,who is my age,would be the gatekeeper of my castle!!!)

6.I loved dancing to Madhuri's dance numbers!! ek do teen was my favourite!! n another favourite song was d akshay kumar song "churake dil mera"..n d song from mohra!!i forgot the name!! those two were quite cheesy,but i would start dancing as soon as the song came on tv!! ;) n sometimes i would start dancing at the oddest places,even without music!!once due to my dancing,a bowl containing curd just flew off the table!! that incident is still the standing joke in our family!!

7.I fell in love with SRK at the age of five..after watching DDLJ..i was convinced he was THE man for me!! i still LOU him!! :D

8.I was mistaken for a boy once in digha!! a photographer came up to my dad n asked "dada,cheler shonge chobi tulben?" :o lol! :D

9.I discoverd my love for acting at the age of seven at a neighbourhood function,where i took part in a drama..it was MODERN RAMAYAN..n i was sita..n both ram n laxman were shorter than me!!! haha!! :D

10.I used to get involved in violent fights with one particular boy in golf green..so much so,that once we were in the chulochuli state,n dis boy pulled my ear so hard that my ear-ring came off cutting my ear n leaving it bleeding!!

11.I learnt playing cards at the age of five,n beat 8 adults with whom i was playing!! what an achievement!!

12.I had the firm belief that my dad was extremely ignorant n probably illiterate!! so much so that i started crying when my mom told my dad to teach me a certain lesson one day..i feared that i would fare miserably in the test if my dad taught me!!! ;)

13.I loved wearing my mom's sunglasses(which were so big that it would cover half of my face),n posing stylishly for my dad's camera!!!

14.I started drinking tea from the age of 3!!!! i started quite early i must say!! n i had said "monkey cap ta thik chayer shonge jache na"

15.I had a fascination for the tickets bus conductors used to carry..i would collect them n put them in bunches just like the conductor carries..then i would act out like him!!! i had an ambition of being a bus conductor!!! ;>

16.My paternal grandfather was a great friend..i would play for hours with him!! n being the eldest grandchild,i was favoured more..a situation i took full advantage of!!;)

17.In lower infant in each column of my report card it was written NEEDS IMPROVEMENT..!!!!:O

18.When my first cousins came over from the US, i was totally fascinated by them..the way they talked,the way they dressed,whatever they ate,what they watched on tv etc..i was 3 at that time..i used to copy their accent n speak gibberish..my cousins ven have a video of that!! n i would copy my cousin Rishi in whatever he did..n the fights that we used to get into!!our mothers had a tough time handling us!!;)

19.Whenever i would get up in a car,i would push whoever sat beside me with my elbows n say "uff shoro!! Space pachina!!!" ;>

20.I used to own a HUGE,HUGE number of toys..soft toys,plastic toys etc..n there were those dolls..i had around 20-25 of them and each of them had a name-tina,mina,amina bibi,dolly etc..i miss them!! :(

"DUTY CALLING"

Was going through my school farewell diary..Filled with anecdotes,thoughts,happy memories and lots of other such memorable moments,from a journey of 14 years,called "SCHOOL LIFE".. Flipping through the pages, I found a beautiful poem written by Srestha,a dear friend.. Just thought of sharing it..

DUTY CALLING

At life's crossroads we met,

Since then years have been spent....

This bidding will not be with tears,

But with music that will play for years.

It will be the music of laughter,

Chirping voices,running feet that together have

the journey sauntered;

So when we look back,

It will be of the happy times and the jokes

that we have cracked.

The unfolding of events,

Sitting for the examinations with our backs bent,

Seeing the same old faces,

Will be gone and now will come the challenging

new races..

Life is a ride.

We have to accept what it gives with pride.

If it means parting with friends,

It also means the duty of

remembering them.....

by Srestha Gupta

R.I.P Akriti

The news about the death of Delhi school girl Akriti Bhatia,due to negligence of school authorities has left me numb with shock. I fail to understand why the school authorities were waiting till 11a.m when the girl started having breathing problems at 10a.m. As per newspaper and television reports,its known that the principal of the school was waiting for the akriti's car to arrive from home(which according to akriti's family is a 45minutes drive from the school),while there were so many cars parked near the school premises. Considering the urgency of the situation,the principal should have used her own car to take akriti to the hospital. In a situation like this,where "TIME" is the KEY factor,the school authorities were just wasting it!! Time, precious time..Time that could have saved Akriti's life! But alas.....

The second allegation that came up,was that the school nurse who was looking after Akriti,had put an oxygen mask on her face,but had removed it later when Akriti was being taken to the hospital,claiming that the mask was school property & hence had to be removed!!! I guess safeguarding school's "property" was more important than a student's life..I mean how much can it matter if you lose one student??Certainly not more than the troubles they would have to go through if that "School's property" was misplaced, isnt it?The newspaper report today,also said that Akriti was forced to gulp down a glass of fresh lime soda on which the girl choked. Now a glass of soda can never be fatal,but yes,if given to a person gasping for breath,the results can be otherwise.. I wonder if the school authorities didn't know about the "nebulizer". Or perhaps, they thought that the fresh lime soda would prove to be more effective than the nebulizer!

No matter how much we crib about his issue, rage at the negligence of the school authorities,the fact remains that Akriti is no more. What is important now,is to make sure that no other student meets the same unlucky fate as Akriti. Now this raises anotherequi pertinent question. Are ur schools well equipped, to deal with situations like these?Do they have the necessary facilities to ensure the well being of their students or are more such Akritis there in the offing? Akriti's school is a very posh school,with students from affluent families. Yet in such a school, a terrible incident such as this occured. Sad but shocking.

How many schools out here have a full time doctor to take care of emergency situations like these?Akriti's school still had a nurse,might not have been competent and trained enough,but still the school had the facility of a nurse. How many schools here can boast of having trained nurses? Instead of nurses,we have ayahs,who are best equipped to tackle children in playgrounds,give basic first aid,helping out the kids in the loo etc. God forbid if a situation like Akriti's arises out here, I think the student shall meet with the same fate! Its high time school authorities sit up and take notice of their shortcomings & get the schools well equipped to deal with any emergency situations..

OFF TO A START

So finally here i am starting my blog!! my friend angira had given the suggestion long ago,but i was too lazy to start blogging at that point of time..today,in the middle of lazing around n idling away my time,i decided to start blogging with a vengeance!! well,some of that vengeance fizzled away quite soon,with a 1.5hrs powercut,some phone calls,coming in the way of me n my blog..but then better late than never! so although i had started at 6:30p.m, i'm finally writing this at 9:16p.m!! quite an achievement,i must say.. :p
the only thing bugging me right now,is one important question - WHAT DO I WRITE ABOUT?
i guess i need to go n figure that out!! so till the next time, ciao!! :)