recently, i got my hands on this book by Dr. Prakash Amte, about his life n the way he n his family worked in one of the most remote areas of Maharashtra, near Gadchiroli. was really moved by his love to educate those literal homosapiens who didnt know that clothes do exist.. hah.

n whats our take on it?

no, we cant do that. we are too weak to control our obsession with the earthly world. we want a black Mercedes, a high paying job, a grand house, frequent trips, imported vodkas, jockey boxers blah blah blah.. fuck.. its pretty contradictory to write this thing just after the last post of mine.. werent they selfless? im as confused as the baby cuckoo in the crow's nest.

long past in 4th sem, while i was sittin in some lecture, gazing outside, i remember, i was thinkin bout a documentary, which told stories of little children amid the chaos of war n conflicts. it was disturbing n it did pluck my string very harshly. this is what my pen delivered..

" When eyes go blur with salty water, everything just fades away

there used to be a smile on the face of an orphaned kid

father, died in bombings, mother was taken away by soldiers

and now,

under this big blue sky, alone at the edge of a dried river,

he is smiling.

he never shed a tear for his parents, u kno, he died inside.

there is nothing left to burn, but he still smiles.

but we, we can not know how it feels,

the echoes of screams n cries colliding inside head.

dried in river bank.

just like his smile.

and we are here, sitting in this shithole class, dreaming of a bright future."