Category: Child

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Child forest hooligans. interior Poetry

None To Weep For Her.


It is an experience

could be of relevance

very much referred by all

the cause of a great fall.

The little girl left alone

wandered in the streets all alone

caught the eyes of hooligans

who took her to a forest dense.

The little one cried hoarse

gagged with a cloth coarse

she whimpered in a subdued tone

all muffled up the poor one.

They dragged her to the interior

raped and bruised her exterior

she lay half dead in the mid forest

they abandoned her in the test.

The horror is so terrible

the girl lay there horrible

none to take care of her

none to weep for her.
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Child gifted Poetry ten-year -old

My Little Boy


The little  boy I know

a ten-year-old in the go

 has a lot to  show

  talks with a flow

 be it any subject in toe

 he is never slow

 nor  behaves low

 speaks with a glow

  is as pure as snow

 honest to the core

has a lot of wisdom in store

 at times,he might sound a bore

that be a few moments in toll

 he is a child  of a noble call

 priced and gifted boy in all.

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Actions Child concept Enrichment Poem

Raising A Family


Man and woman unite in amour.
They start the family with glamour.
With love they live together
to raise a family in good weather.

In the early years of intimacy the family enlarges.
The entry of the child gives the parents the charge
of becoming responsible and duty bound.
No more of playful tussles in the round.

The toned down parents take up the challenge.
as bringing up a child is a difficult manage
much different from the earlier engage
filling in with tasks and schedules in a range.

In no time the family grows with another child.
The accustomed household adjusts to the new find.
Children reach the teen age in the course of time
With that a careful watch also comes in with a chime.

It goes without saying that family is the biggest corporate.
Any one deviation would bring in an expensive degenerate.
The unit has to be held intact without a single break.
Otherwise there would be an alarming outbreak.

family

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Child Enlightenment Enrichment Evolution Experience feelings Love Poem

Mother’s Entry


The little one was crying.
Was it for milk or anything else ?
Kept me wondering.
His cry slowly become a sob.
Was it for milk or anything else?
made me worrying.
It gradually gave way to a whimper.
Was it for milk or anything else?
I started thinking.
The whimper became a whining
Was it for milk or anything else?
The apprehension kept me on tip toe
as the mother walked in softly in a tip toe.
The baby’s whine became a smile in no time

Continue reading “Mother’s Entry”
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Actions Anger Child Experience fall feelings gender insecure Poem subscriptions thoughts threat. turmoil

TheTrauma Of Being A Woman.


Gender still holds preference.

Male has a high predominance.

Female  holds a low reference.

 

Family  considers boys as  precious gift.womandiscrimination

Girls  are deemed as absolute pressure.

The distinction is  found in every measure.

 

Schools  give importance to boys.

The girls excel in performance.

Even so they fall back in prominence.

 

The male oriented society  perceives different.

Men are  physically strong and daring.

Women look frail and fearing.

 

Man take the upper hand all throughout.

Their decisions they ascribe pave the way to  progress.

They push down the woman into  a  breathless repress.

 

The fairer sex   seeks  recognition.

Their workings are mostly without  blemish.

Yet their image gets tarnished.

 

Tarnished they live. in anguish.

Their thoughts suffer a damage.

Their body succumbs to a  hemorrhage.

 

The world  has gone through a revolution,

Economy has changed to a global  symposium

Sex till today implicates a  feverish delirium.

 

The women face violence at every juncture.

Brutal rapes are becoming a common fixture.

The devastation of young girls calls for a biblical texture.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Actions Child Experience Governance insecure Interpretation Lesson Life Norway Sympathy thoughts turmoil

India Versus Norway: Diplomatic Embroil Over Bringing up Children


India Versus Norway: Diplomatic Embroil Over Bringing up Children on Blogcritics.

 

“The Child is father of the Man,” reads the famous line from William Wordsworth. Begetting a child gives unfathomable pleasure. Bringing up the little one is an art. The making and unmaking of a child depends largely on the mother.feeding

Parenting is a task which requires great skill and foresight. Indians form a close-knit community. Every relation has an importance in the Indian family. The Indian mother, after a child is born, lives with the child all day long. The newborn is nurtured with great care, fed as and when it cries, sleeps nestling close to the mother. The children are put in separate rooms once they become self-sufficient and independent. The bonding between the child and the mother is special, enchanting and enhancing too. The proximity developed between the mother and the child lasts all through their life. Indians presume it as a healthy sign but in the West it is eyed differently.

Norway is in the headlines for separating the children of an Indian geoscientist from their parents since May 2011. Anurup and Sagarika Bhattacharya’s children, three-year old Abigyan and one-year-old Aishwarya, were taken under Norwegian protective care by the Norwegian Welfare services on the ground that the son slept with Churchillhis father and the mother fed the children with her fingers.

This allegation brings to mind an anecdote from a few decades back, when the former Indian President Dr. Radhakrishnan and the British Prime Minister Churchill met over dinner. As per the Indian custom, the President washed his hands well before eating. While Churchill was busy with spoon and fork, Dr.Radhakrishnan was eating with his fingers. Churchill asked the President to use the spoon and fork for better hygiene. The great scholar quipped, “No one else could use my fingers so I consider it most hygienic.” What would have happened to Dr. Radhakrishnan if he had visited Norway now? He would have been put in a centre and alienated from his kith and kin. Dr. Radahakrishnan is dead and gone. He has escaped the Norwegian authorities.

 

Norway’s Child Protective Service is a powerful organization which has been charged with being overzealous in protecting the children. The Norwegian Statistical Bureau, in its latest report of 2011, shows that 19 of every 1,000 children born to immigrant parents were taken away from their family homes between 2004 and 2010.

In a report by IBN-CNN, Mr. Bhattacharya says, “We’ve appealed to the government that we’ll leave everything and go back to India. This is a nightmare in our lives. We want to bring back our kids. We were normal parents. There could be several upbringing issues because the culture is different.”

The Indian Government has taken up the issue and forced the Norwegian government to release the children from Protective Care. Their 27-year-old uncle would take custody of the children and the expenses for his trip to Oslo would be borne by the Indian government.

Each country has its own culture. Each country has its own theory and convictions regarding sex, children, marriage, habits, and behaviour. That which is approved in one part of the world may be strongly condemned in another region. Customs and traditions which seem offensive to one sect are appreciated highly by the other.

Shakespeare said that discretion is the better part of valor. Let us practise this ideal by honouring all cultures and values.

Read more: http://blogcritics.org/culture/article/india-versus-norway-diplomatic-entanglement-over/page-2/#ixzz1uH3breMR

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Actions Age Child Lesson Life Looks thoughts Wish

A Birthday Party.


It was a birthday party,

It looked like any other  party,

The child was the  main party,

She did not know about the party.

 

The child was a frail one year old,

She was in her mother’s hold,

Looking at all with a fear untold,

She felt cramped in the hubbub cold,

Poor child! she trembled in the fold.

 

The gathering was excited most,

Games were for them almost,

The couples danced  vibrantly to the toast,

Leaving a feeling of distaste utmost,

 Oh! the poor child was ignored foremost.

 

The cake was cut with much fanfare,

 Happy Birthday ranted high in the air.

The balloons were burst in the fare,

Raising a loud noise beyond the dare,

Oh! the poor child looked like a timid hare.

 

Was not the party for the child? I enquire,

 Nay! it is for the adults, I hear,

Should not the children participate? I jeer,

 Never! It is a boisterous revelry, very clear,

 Oh! the  poor child started crying in fear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Actions Age Anger Child Compassion Default Experience Imprisonment Lesson Looks Love mind Study subscriptions Sympathy Theory thoughts True turmoil Wish

Schools Today


Schools are production houses akin to industries

They are into manufacturing  process with diligence,

Children are spun into yarn without any thick and thin,

Then woven into weft and warp  without any fault,

Finally  they find their light more or less like a cloth

 

Schools are into intense competition,

Learning by rote is the only assumption,

Reading becomes a mere  automatic application,

Writing takes the form of  just copying,

Comprehension is nowhere to be found.

 

Children perform under pressure,

Losing their childhood in the course,

Scores usurp the central place,

Assimilation takes the back seat,

It is a mechanical mess up.

 

Tests and exams are predominant,

High grades are the goal of the parents,

Streams of examinations besiege the young mind,

Abandoning them into a cess pool of valuation,

Dooming them to a world of professionalism.

 

Each child has a liking of its own,

Each one can live his life  only once,

Robbing them of their play and leisure,

Compelling them to forsake their ambition,

Is a dreaded sin than any other.

 

Schools with excessive achievements,

Steal the show and grab the status,

Their demands make us fall back,

The education imparted is no way fabulous,

Yet we find a long queue  waiting in their gates.

 

Two and a half-year old has  to take a test,

Parents have to attend interviews,

Those who are supposed to be in the cradle,

Come out to face the stern teachers,

The sweet smile converts itself to a loud cry.

 

Oh! what a cruelty  the children undergo,

Where are you Blue cross and Red cross?

Taking care of animals is humanitarian,

How do you miss the plight of the toddlers?

Could you not do anything to save them?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Actions Beauty Child Enrichment Evolution Experience fall Inspiration Looks Love subscriptions thoughts True

A Baby’s First Crawl


Lying down on his stomach ,

Looking around to check,

Pulling his legs to the fore,

 He fell down on the floor.

 

He got hurt to an extent,

He cried to his heart’s content,

Then attempted  again,

Alas ! he slipped in the bargain

 

He threw an angry look around

Stared in anger at the ground,

Shouted something in a loud voice

He stretched himself in a choice.

 

The baby became restless,

 He slowly dragged his legs breathless,

Steadied himself to a right position

He remained waiting for the next decision.

 

He suddenly  took a four-legged step,

 Moved his right leg in a forward pep,

The left one followed in a quick,

Architecting an advance like a trick.

 

The ruse went on for a little time,

It was like a poetic rhyme,

The crawl was with a rhythmic ease,

That brought no ridiculing tease.

 

It was fun  to see him crawl  for the rest,

It was for him a  highly priced test,

He had taken a move daring,

Is it not a praiseworthy sharing?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Actions Beauty Child Enlightenment Enrichment Inspiration Interpretation reverberation subscriptions thoughts Wish

A Baby Sleeps


A little baby is lying in a cradle,

 She is making  noises in a babble,

Her cries are calls a little feeble,

She mostly lets out a giggle.

 

The baby is like a dainty rose,

Tiny appears her fingers and toes,

Her face enlightens all those,

Her smile ensues a lovely glow.

 

Soon her eyes gently close,

She sucks her thumb in a doze,

  As her charm increasingly grows,

Opening out to all an ecstatic source.

 

It is a pleasure to see her sleep,

Her light slumber is not deep,

She gets startled at a tiny beep,

Forcing a stealthy silence in a creep.

 

Peeping over the cradle for long,

Sends a tranquil vibration all along,

Sets the mind at peace not wrong,

Makes the heart sing a merry song.

 

It is a pleasure unexplainable,

It is a leisure unfathomable,

Oh!Is not my verse lovable?

Nay,it is the  way the baby sleeps  is enjoyable.

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