A small introduction to Cancer
This pdf was a project of mine in college, it was aimed to make a child below the age of 10 to learn more about cancer in a helpful and child centric perspective. Please feel free to Download the pdf and share it as I’m sure it will definitely help a child out there 🙂
What started out as an art of the muses, Influenced the world by its harmonious cruises. Ancient chants and hymns were sung for their beliefs Providing those civilizations satisfying releif
Another decade, another future … what was lost cannot be found.
The grass will never be green.
The only landscape I’ll see is the tree’s being shed.
Heavy losses, piled misfortunes, intentional crime, siren calls,
I’m in the midst of it all.
Turning every turn into some secret place inside,
Overlooking reality, embellishing my pride.
Chasing charms, what Luck do I know of?
There’s no such thing, I’m just a diamond in the rough.
Being a human captive, this is what I must resort to-
Painful glances, failed association, everything makes me blue.
Why am I here? Is there a greater purpose to serve?
Or is it just the longevity of pain bouncing off my nerve?
So many unanswered questions, my soul cries…
Each day another plea just for the sake of life
The only thrill manifested in death-
An unknown journey pending to be met.
In all these endeavours, I trudge along
Melancholy thoughts become my anthem, my song.
Nobody in sight, I settle my memories on the lonely shelf.
This is it; I’m finally all by myself.
It was not my fault. I agree it isn't right, but this is my fight. Why should I be blamed ? Why am I being framed? I loved it dearly, yes it. Love and care inside me it lit. I was happy so was it, I didn't resent it not even a bit. I waited so eagerly, so patient so tolerating... It seemed like I had nothing else to live for What can a mother want more? It was beautiful until it ended Leaving my soul forever shredded. It was my pain , my agony, my sacrifice, my choice my baby lost its voice. That day I knew I'll never be free, For life was dead inside of me. For all eternity...
Classics are a wholesome of perfection. The language used, the drama, the satire, setting & story are simply marvelous. I thought of this quote spontaneously while looking at this picture of Anna.
“As I looked through the Window with thoughts of mine, images of him Ransacked my mind”
.
The Joker has always been one of my most cherished villains of all time. His intelligent, manipulative , sadistic schemes prove he’s a Genius with a dark soul. I’ve written a short poem on his life & hope it justifies it.
Cast out as an engineer
A genius among his peers.
He worked at a factory that made chemicals,
And helped his co-workers steal drugs
When he got caught he grew hysterical
All because he helped out some thugs.He unfortunately fell into acid
That turned his looks morbid.
Transforming him into the antisocial Joker,
He became his own worker.His main aim was to kill Batman,
But destroying Gotham city became part of the plan.
He spared none & dint stop until he won.
He was defeated & sent to Arkham Asylum,
Where psychotic patient’s cries went dumb.The gorgeous Harley came to his rescue,
Helped him to escape & became his cue.
She was infatuated with him & her love grew into obsession,
None of which Joker was willing to take possession.He was indifferent to her and often abused,
Making her an instrument according to his use.
Now it so happened that she captured Batman & announced her victory to Joker,
Who took it as an insult & mocked her.
He threw her out of the building
& and declared that he was not her pudding.Batman released himself and chased joker on the railway ,
Threw him into a coal pit and walked away.
This is a bit from the comic strip, there is more to the life of Joker. I’ve summarized a part of it, you should probably read the rest about him. He’s a remarkable person. 😉
€rica
“I am an African child,
Born with a skin the
colour of chocolate,
Bright, brilliant and articulate,
Strong and bold; I’m gifted,
Talented enough to be the best,
I am an African child”Throughout my years of schooling I have always come across literature pertaining to the enslaved Africans who were brutally violated. Many writers have already penned their thoughts down beautifully through articles, poems & various forms. I’d like to share my thoughts on it too, but through a childs perspective. I will try my best to bring out a realistic scenery of the cruel past.
It was just another day in Mississippi as I walked down the trodden sun baked pathway that was dug for “our kind” . I was told that the roads were meant for people of superior quality intellect as they put it. I had to reach the tobacco farms before 4:30 pm or I would call for a whip lash from my master Mr.Frankfurt. Nobody knew his first name & nobody dared to ask either. All I knew was his family owned mine and he sold my mama away to another tobacco farmer long before I knew her name . Well atleast I know a bit about my mother for I know not where my father hailed or where he went. I skipped along the pathway as the stones started getting colder due to the onset of late afternoon, I perked up my steps and headed through the back door, we weren’t allowed to enter through the main. Mr.Frankfurt was rocking on his chair , a huge mug of coffee in his right hand and a whip on the other which indicated that either an animal or slave had misbehaved. Not a pleasant condition to be in. As I crept closer to him I could see & smell the fresh blood on the whip, A human’s I sensed. I shuddered and appeared before him bearing the news he had sent me to receive. Now you see in those times telegrams cost a fortune and you couldn’t send forth information from one farmer to another because of the vast land they owned it would take you a day or two on foot to reach another farm. But there was a local newspaper that was sold in the market a centre between these farms that sold information to farmers about the weather , regulations or fertilizers and all other requisites that these farmers sought after. Mr. Frankfurt dint spend his money on it though , he sent his workers to read it and report back to him but not all knew how to read & he dint want to educate all so he taught the children until they reached the age of 10 so as to prevent them from becoming translators or giving them a reason to leave the farm. I told him of what I read… no new regulations, a fertilizer for cotton & a possible drought in a month as per predictions. He snarled and got up to get another mug of coffee perhaps, he did his own work when he was upset. And ever since his mistress left him a year ago he’s been quite repulsive & arrogant about not being able to manage the farm or household or the finances. He shoved me out if his way as he returned to his chair, observing my service was not needed by him anymore I left the house and went to the only place I was free from slave cries, animal noises, blood sceneries or any of the unpleasant circumstances that went on in the farm. I sat down on a dry patch that had been eroded mercilessly by the elements of nature being an unfortunate victim as it was situated on the edge of a steep slope. I had to be careful not to slip down the slope because if I did I would receive 10 lashes from the neighbouring farm owner as well as my own for encroachment and mind you they dint care for 8 year olds any more than the adults. I wept for sometime realising that I will never know the warmth of a family , I’ll never achieve any of the milestones other children all over the world receive, I’ll never have the opportunity to fulfill any goal or follow my ambition. I was small only by my age and physical stature but my mind was an ocean of ideas that were never going to get explored. I heaved a deep sigh and drew in my breath, many times I’ve tried to kill myself by holding my breath but I have never succeeded. Maybe fate could change it’s mind and offer me a better path? I wondered. I closed my eyes for a while to take some time Off my hectic life but no sooner I did I heard gun-shots. This meant trouble someone had shot one of the animals and each salve was going to be whipped until Mr.Frankfurt grew tired. I quickly got up and scurried along the plants, I moved swiftly so nobody would realize my absence. I reached the shed and watched the elders get a sound lashing for not guarding the farm. Soon it would be the childrens turn. Another night of burns and aches, squeals & mourns, tears and cries on the cold hay left in the barn.
€rica
The Stench of mediocracy is choking, Rise up to the aroma of perfection
.
€rica
Insightoutofsight 