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Robert Frost once talked of taking the ‘road less travelled’.
Well, I didn’t.
When the time came, I blindly went and took the safest road.
A very long path where the pitfalls were plenty.
I stumbled in the bracken. Stymied by the darkness that fell quickly as I ambled along.
The soul bruised, battered and exhausted at every infrequent stop.
It was not apparent then that in this venture there was a bleak dead end ahead.
I plowed on even though something inside was telling me again and again to turn back.
But, slowly, a gleaming light of hope crossed my vista beckoning me home.
I crawled. My strength regained as the light intensified.
Then the end was in sight - the portal was within grasp.
And so, yes, I now take that road less travelled.
Standing tall and proud as I gleefully stride down its glowing thoroughfare.  
Smiling at the diverse and playful changes that cross my pathway.
All told, it’s never too late to trust your instincts and make a difference.
Just ask me.
And Robert Frost.
We are the kids – beautiful blank canvasses ready to receive the joy of life.
We are the kids – hope & love consuming our souls, grasping at the shiny & new.
We are the kids who played in the fields and danced in the sun.
We are the kids with innocence in our hearts and a cheekiness in our soul.
We are the kids who believed in a benevolent God and the generous teachings of Jesus.
We are the kids whose imagination was an infinite resource - bounteous, diverse and effervescent.
We are the kids who reveled in the fancy, the nonsensical, the romantic and the wild.
We are the kids that couldn’t wait to grow up,
We are the kids who believed in our future.
We are the kids who never saw it coming.

We are the kids who lost our innocence as soon we walked through the big school gates for the 1st time.
We are the kids who were told to “think of your future” and to suppress creativity.
We are the kids who were forced to grow up very quickly.
We are the kids who didn’t know we were “different” but there were plenty out there who did.
We are the kids who had to pretend to be what “they” wanted us to be just to survive.
We are the kids who came home with scars every day – both physical and emotional
We are the kids who endured the obscene words of Neanderthal hate every single day.
We are the kids who were screamed at by our parents to fight back even when we really didn’t have the capability to do so.
We are the kids who were told crying was a sign of weakness.
We are the kids whose so-called classmates stayed silent when they did their worst.
We are the kids where the school gates were no barrier to their lynching.
We are the kids who turned quickly from being wide-eyed & hopeful to being terrified & desolate.
We are the kids who dreaded every single weekday from first term to last.  
We are the kids who fruitlessly prayed to a God who had deserted them.
We are the kids taught by teachers who were found wanting.
We are the kids who suffocated in sheer hate.
We are the kids who took our own lives or at least tried to.
We are the kids who self-harmed.
We are the kids who sometimes never came home.
We are the kids who survived but never really left the school yard behind
We are the kids.
Your kids.

June 11, 2018.
Ekuu Aug 8
Here's a story of fading Art.
Women weave it with their own hands.
Stronger is thread & the bond.
A heritage comes alive,
A culture starts to breathe.
Making it isn't a child's play,
This takes many days.

Art is immortal, Art is priceless.
Skillful people never say,
That they're been hardly paid.
Time has time n so has the outfits,
We prefer any trend that hits.
Not giving a thought of vanishing Art,
Totally breaks my heart.

With all this blend Bandhani is made,
Hindu makes & Muslim wears...
Diversity stays.
This rich Art might fade away,
I request each of you...
Do not let it happen this way.
I was requested by a friend to write few lines on "Bandhani" fabric for her documentary.  This fabric is popular n made in Rajasthan. How's it's special and difficult to make n is also vanishing with time. This was an attempt by me. It was quite difficult to write about it...but somehow came up with this.
Blake Jun 23
If you wish to call it blindness,
Then yes I’m blind.

If you choose to call it submission,
Then I am whipped and kneeling.

If you’re convinced to call it pathetic,
Then cringe because I’m woeful.

If you desire to call it a sin,
Then send me to the pits of hell my god.

If you pick to call it silly,
Then I must still be a immature child.

If you preach to call it fucked up,
Then I am surely deranged and crazy.

If you need to call it chemicals,
Then I’m definitely severely imbalanced.

If you need to call it all of the above,
Maybe spice it up add a few more words

please go ahead.
But I will always call it


L   O   V   E
Shoval May 29
A wooden puppet with a perfect present.
His nose is broken.
He wants to be sold at a high price for his owner to be happy,
so he hid his broken nose.

He knew he was broken.
Costumers were seeing him as a toy,
while he was a display puppet.
But unfortunately no buyer fitted his needs.

The broken nose made him a display puppet.
He knew if he would be bought as a toy his
broken nose will break his everything.

He wished to be bought by a display buyer.
But he lived in a toys store.
Jiawen 张 Apr 29
We, the humans.
Born like pieces of plain paper.
To live is to paint.
Every single step adds different colors.
    
The Black.
Rich like the soil on the earth.
The beauty of colourful cultures.
  
The White.
Clean like the snow in the winter.
The beauty of pure winter wonderland.
  
The Latinos.
Sweet like the chocolate in your mouth.
The beauty of black and white.
  
The Asians.
Deep like the book in your hands.
The beauty of ancient wisdom.
  
The Natives.
Pure like the earth under your feet.
The beauty of nature as it is.
  
If white is added to cover all colors,
Everything will be white washed.
If there is only white in this world,
There will be no other colors on the earth.
    
We, the humans.
We are one species on the earth.
We all bleed.
Red inside.
From a colored female
Diversity is what sets us apart
in blood,
not in soul
or in the Humans Heart
So lets be bold
Lets be strong
Lets be humane
Diversity is a long thread
that weaves and braids the human domain
As we stand together or stand alone
The fact that we can change the unthinkable
always remains
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