Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Timeline of an illiterate girl

There are so many girl children in India who are uneducated. The real question is: What are we doing to help fight illiteracy? As published on women's web: http://www.womensweb.in/2013/11/an-illiterate-girl-in-india/

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As I was taken out of my laboring mother’s womb, my grandmother was the first to look at me. And she started crying even before I did. Her shrill screech of horror resonated across the room louder than my mother’s pain: “oh no…it has happened…. it’s a GIRL!” She had expected a productive ‘heir’ to the family, a man, a protector who could earn and help the family prosper; not this useless dummy-piece of the girl was later going to be sold with dowry that the family wouldn’t be able to afford. Soon, my father retired to one corner with his head in his hands. That was how I received my welcome, on the very first day I dawned- I was looked at like I was not an infant, but a harmful stone that had been removed from mom’s womb. Later that day, some of my relatives suggested that I be killed or dumped to rot somewhere, disposable as I was. But dear dad took pity on me, and so I have lived long enough to come to this state.
I’m happy that I didn’t understand all this hatred towards me as a girl, when I was little. The truth of my position in life started dawning only later on me. I understood it the first time, as a five year old girl. My cousin brother who was also my age, was to attend school the very first time. “Get him oiled, and bathed, and ready. He must look well groomed! He’s going to the school!” I remember my grandmother say. “What about me? I want to look nice too. Take me with ram! I want to go school!  It will be big and nice and I can play! I know there are nice teachers and books!” I told my grandma, who uncomfortably shifted in her place and exchanged looks with my mother, whose face looked downtrodden upon my innocent words. Of course she knew that I, as a mere girl, wouldn’t be allowed to attend school.
So I never went.  I stayed at home. When I was little, I used to help mom clean the vessels and listen to the gossip of the old ladies on the verandah whenever I got bored.  I used to stare longingly at the beautiful books that ram took to school every day, and envy the way they got bigger every year. Sometimes, I would sit to look at those books, but I wouldn’t understand a word.  Mom soon gave birth again, and to everyone’s delight, to a boy.
In other times, I would look outside at the bus that shuttled back and forth between our village and the town, and wonder how the big, sophisticated town would be like. But I could only go if dad took me, but I was too scared to ask. I knew ram’s school took him on trips to see and observe the town, many a time. He also seemed to be able to easily join in adults’ complex talks of big numbers and cities outside our state, though like me, he was only eight that time. The only news I knew were the local gossip and who fought with whom and which woman has the most marks from domestic abuse. I was terrified because I knew my situation was going to be the same one day.
When I turned twelve, I was sent to work at the construction site of a large house in my village, for a wage of about fifty rupees every day, so that our family could continue to pay for ram’s increasing cost of education as he passed through higher grades and also support the little new arrival of my brother to the family. Ram now sometimes read those enormous paragraphs about money and things on the newspaper. Meanwhile, I learnt to cook a hundred meals to tailor the varied likings of my dad and, then, ram. After working ten hours at the construction site, I would come home and help mom clean up, and then take care of my little brother. At night every day, grandma used to tell me about how I should be when I grew up. She would tell me I’d get married in a couple of years and about duties as a woman. I was a girl, so I had to be humble, I had to be wise enough to rise above my own longings and sacrifice boundlessly. I was a girl, so I should learn to tolerate every sort of treatment, and bear my family’s weight till it crushes me. As a wife, I would have to surrender the utmost god, who my husband, to me, would become. I had to be strong, fully selfless and absolutely tolerant and limitlessly submissive. “Never raise your voice. Don’t give your opinion if it’s not requested for. Don’t have contacts with men, as you are growing older. Otherwise, I’d be an incapable woman worthy of scorn...” and so she would preach. This was my only education.
Then, a disaster befell. Mom got severely ill, and then died.
Dad then told a twelve year old me that I was in charge of all the household duties.  For a couple of years after that, I was the new mother in the family, to my little brother and to my cousins including ram. Doing household chores and taking care of everyone became my life.
Then, just as my grandmother’s words had it, I was married at the age of fifteen. I saw my groom the hour he was to marry me. Following the duties that had been so well etched on my heart, I showed nothing on my face and remained silent. He looked okay, but his manner was disturbing to me. I could, of course do nothing about it. That evening before leaving with him, I went to my mother, and cried. She cried with me.  The groom, she told me, had been dad’s decision. She had tried to convince dad to not accept this man’s proposal, but as he was the only affordable groom with a relatively moderate dowry, dad had to subside.
Soon I joined my village club of abused women, but I was luckier than most. Most of the time, this man acted lovingly.
Soon, I got pregnant. This was the most joyous time of my life, and for a while he was completely gentle. And then my baby, another girl child was born. I accepted her with all my love, though the same reaction didn’t emerge from the rest of my family.
One fine night, when our child was one, my husband left me. Searches were made, and my dad nearly collapsed in terror, women picked hungrily on this fresh topic, and I was stricken with fright and anxiety. But he was not found.
After that, I returned again to my father’s house, to raise my daughter.
Today, several years later, I am helpless. I still do not know the alphabet. My dad has died. My daughter is married. Today, with no literacy, I hover, in midair. With no honor, no source of income. I don’t know who to reach for. I am now, a beggar on the streets, who saw you as you passed by me today.
I am not alone. One in every three girls in India is illiterate. And oh yes, we are in a very good position in life, as you can see. And this is your country, India, just as it is mine. What are you doing about this issue?

Thursday, September 26, 2013

Homecoming of a petal


The fresh breeze dances lightly
On the tips of the dangling dewdrop
And slides on smoothly on my
Back. The juicy sun shines on
The edges of my rosy sheath
As I flow down with time through the air
And sway, driven by crowded thoughts
And imaginations invading the air, to
Lazily glide and land on a lush
Green bed that soaks my
Skin with effusive moisture
And love,
So much love.

Monday, June 24, 2013

A beautiful heart

As published on Women's Webhttp://www.womensweb.in/2013/06/story-of-my-grandmother/?preview=truemy article, here! :
I cannot remember passing through a single phase of my life without my granny. Right from the photos in the bedroom that we share, which show her feeding my toothless mouth when I was little, to the fact that she still braids my hair for school every day, reflect the tight bond between us. Though she may look old, fat or short; she is still beautiful.
The number of decades she’s survived through in this harsh world has filled her with so many memories that even after spending all my fifteen years with me, she still has new stories to share; several that she cherishes, and some that are indirectly meant to advise me as teaching lessons. Often, these recollections have to do with her beloved husband, a grandfather I’d never known by person, but always known by character and spirit. That was because of the profound portrait of his personality that my grandma drew in my head with her vibrant, meticulous recollections relating to him.
And sometimes, in the most thoughtful silence, she would reminisce those memories which are closest to her heart- to, many a time end up weeping by the end of her narration. Because these weren’t just touching stories woven to entertain, they had been a range of concrete experiences, some nostalgic, some painful; and my brave Granma, she’d courageously braved them all. She strengthens me with her strength, and reassures me with her love.
I fight with her. I have a countless times, spat “What’s your stupid problem?” and such thoughtlessly cruel phrases, but the fact that no amount of my anger can hold up the yearning to apologize by planting a kiss on her cheek before bed, seems  to repeatedly make an ultimate joke out of any grim argument between us.
It’s remarkable to see her still alive, motile and breathing, after hearing about the number of family members she has lost- her siblings, her parents, her husbands; they’re all gone, her only relatives now are those she has herself produced; while I cannot even imagine letting go of the tiniest bit of my family. But as I told you, I guess that’s just how resilient she is.
When she was young, a photo shows me, my grandma used to be a petite, skinny figure (as she loves to recall) with flourishing, flowing crow-black hair as long as her short stature.  And that skinny figure- oh, it had worked five times its size. Raising four kids in a patriarchal society some fifty years back in a developing country must have been no easy task. Even tougher than herding four mischievous little monsters, I’ve come to understand, was having to take care of my grandfather (her husband) who,  as  a very demanding ‘head of family’ would expect her to randomly conjure up instantaneously just about anything he wished for. He’d just go, “Make me some sweets” and voila, it ought to be there in half an hour. But the tougher part of cooking must have been that water had to be drawn from a well (not many taps) , no electric-gas stove (firewood instead), no ready-made ingredients, no refrigerator, no grinder (mortar and pestle in its place), and an enormous lot of manual cleaning, cutting, chopping, and cooking to do.
Apart from all this my gran had also been a tailor-from-home, stitching up nearly forty tough uniforms for government schools every day, working from morning to night, for which she received a meager (albeit considered princely at that time) sum of five thousand rupees (equaling 90 dollars) or so every year, which was more than what my grandfather earned, the family being a lower middle-class one. Till today, of course, for all her hard work she has been only acknowledged as another ‘house-wife’ and my grandfather as the ‘single head who supported a family of six’
According to me, she doesn’t need acknowledgement to be made worthy; she already is worth infinitely.
As I have grown up to enter from my childhood to adolescence, I have begun to notice that time makes her older too. But both time and life are prejudiced meanies; while I now get to grow taller, stronger, and cleverer with years, my granny, I see is quite decelerating. She can no longer keep up with me during walks in the park, she can no longer hear as well as she used to, she had even to undergo an operation. No, none of these is fair. I know that, with old age often comes physical weakness, and with weakness would tag pain. No, I don’t want my grandmother to go through any more pain; she’s been through enough in her life. Perhaps that’s why she’s been praying more and more recently, talking about heaven and such crazy stuff and visiting more temples than ever- though when I do algebra, she still tells me from heart  (with her remarkable memory power) the formulae I have forgotten.
Now, all I heartily wish and hope for is that I’d be able always see the silly one-tooth-missing-on-the-front grin that she gets on her face whenever someone speaks about any of her family- though I know that in this terribly transient world, that’s perhaps not a practical wish.
But even if my beautiful grandmother does leave me, I have enough treasured memories of her wisdom and presence in my heart, to go on. Most of all, I hope to carry on her legacy as well as she did.









Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Empowering less fortunate children- a beautiful experience


Hola guys!

This is one recent article I published in The women's web (http://www.womensweb.in/2013/04/working-with-poor-school-india/)  about my amazing experience in a couple of schools in India. Tell me what you think, okay? :D

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Ever since I remember, I have been visiting India  my homeland, for my yearly summer vacations. I have lived in many places, but wherever I studied, the ritual of visiting my relations back home wouldn’t be missed. As I grew up, I gradually began taking more and more notice of the profound differences between India, and Dubai.  Every visit would have me saddened at how much children like me were missing in terms of luxury, education, and resources, or at how so many poor begged in the streets, the same streets as the ones in which the rich, who completely disregarded them, lived.
A few weeks before last year’s vacations, I found myself dreading the visit to India- not only was it going to be boring, but it was also going to be painful-  seeing again  the children who deserve to enjoy as much as I have.
Poor school in IndiaIt suddenly struck me that I should, instead of feeling sad , try to make a difference.  I pooled all the money I had, and saved up determinedly the next few weeks, and started drawing elaborate plans for my initiative. When I’d collected enough, I shopped for all sorts of incentives  I could use as a motivation for the kids with my pocket money, watches, calculators, earrings, pens etc. to give away.
My idea was to approach schools – starting with the one in which I’d briefly learnt in when I was little- to deliver a leadership program to poorer kids aged nine or ten. This was inspired by a Sallyann Della Casa -founder of non-profit Growing Leaders Foundation who delivered similar programs to many well-off schools in Dubai on a professional level.
Poor schools in India, I knew, won’t be able to afford air conditioning in summer, let alone such a professional motivation, so I adopted her guidelines, and principals and improvised on them. My father suggested that I might want to prepare a summary of my program to persuade schools of its benefits, so I did. The entire process seemed extraordinarily simple when I was still in Dubai, but on reaching Chennai, it was anything but that.
There were numerous challenges. It was only when my cousins asked dubiously, “Do you think they’d even allow a 14 year old  student to enter the school premises, let alone speak to the principal?”, that I realized that there were many issues to be addressed. But I wasn’t going to give up.
I went forth anyway, starting with my small ex- primary school down the street. It taught many poor students, including the kids of my house-helper, for a brief time I had myself learnt there during a long vacation in Chennai- it was an amazing school.
I dressed acceptably (at the suggestion of my parents who felt that no school would permit a young wild-looking stranger in an outlandish outfit) and rehearsed what I was going to say to the principal.
The gate-keeper wouldn’t let me in. At least, not till I peeped through the gate and grinned my widest at the vice-principal sitting in the open room inside, who signaled bemusedly that the door be opened. I had to then explain my intentions to the vice-principal; she skeptically smiled at me all the way through, perhaps because she also had a daughter of about my age. And then she asked if this was a school project. When I replied not, I was allowed to meet the principal to re-explain my plan. I was finally allowed one hour with grade four and five kids on a Saturday- which was all I needed.
The session itself was delightful and educative both for me and the kids. First, the kids, about hundred here, were unwilling to reply to a stranger’s questions and return the smiles I gave them. But then they gave up the apathy surprisingly fast and enthusiastically interacted with me, shooting questions, agreeing with some, and responding. While in the beginning, not many kids raised their hands when I asked them “how many of you think you are leaders?”- By the end of the session, not one of them doubted their leadership capabilities; the success in getting my message through overwhelmed me.
The greatest joy was to see the most silent and withdrawn kids interact with zest; to see the warmth of happiness from every kid when they’re told they’re beautiful. The talk was meant to motivate their self-confidence, emphasize their specialty, about leadership, on breaking social barriers, on daring to try new things, and standing up against wrong practices like alcoholism (still very prevalent among the poor in India), among many other subjects. I ended the program with a story and a poem in English- this was meant to boost their language skills, but it ended up enriching mine too. While I asked them to guess meanings of certain English words, they taught me many new Tamil words as well. In the end, everyone was groping for my hands, and I couldn’t stop grinning as all of them chanted, “thirimbi va akka” (come again, sister). Finally I gave them the gifts I’d bought before leaving, and they looked as happy as I was feeling; it was a great experience.
Empowered by this, and armed with a letter of recommendation by the principal of this school, I repeated a similar session in another government school. These kids, about seventy of them, were even poorer, and tough it was harder to deliver my message; it meant more – hardly anyone else would let them know of their powerful leadership capabilities or give them new gifts, that made all the difference to me.
The third school  being a bigger one, turned me down without consideration, because of my age and perhaps because I simply had no reputation or qualification.
After that, sadly, the vacation ended, but I am sure that the help I can do, is by no means, over. I have held on to every dime I can collect this year also, and am looking forward to improve upon and deliver even more effective programs or volunteer to make a bigger difference when I come to India this year.
Many schools might, like they did, turn me down because of my teenage and ongoing education, but I’d keep trying, for this program is not about me- it’s about doing something to empower other kids in the little way I can. I will keep going to draw smiles on the faces that deserve to be happy- it satisfies me.
An incredible message this experience has taught me is how much a little act that may not mean anything to us, can massively impact a less fortunate person’s life. Moreover, the process of dong something to improve and motivate others isn’t exerting, it’s exhilarating, enjoyable and rewarding. It’s the best way of showing gratitude for everything we are lucky enough to have and experience. 

Monday, April 1, 2013

On Taboos: A Letter To Indian Parents





Hey guys!

This is the latest article addressing all the issues kids in India either feel embarrassed, ashamed or scared to address their parents about. And negligence of these important issues is prevalent to some extent, in nearly every place in the world.

My 2nd for Women's web-->

Tell me what you think!

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There are a number of issues that Indian parents don’t address their children about and even more realities that they simply can’t digest. You can’t believe that your teens talk of crushes, alcohol, drugs, and other more unbelievable topics, but wake up, it is happening.

1. The most prevalent problem is, parents want marks. They want marks in exams, an all-rounder kid, which is of course with a good intention of securing their children a good position in life, but often, the pressure becomes excessive. Children are of varying capacities, you can’t expect your child to get full marks in all subjects and still get gold medals in sports just because your neighbor’s kid does so. Your neighbor’s kid is a different individual from yours.

If a children is dim or average in studies everyone says that it’s only because she didn’t study well enough, this is always cited as the reason. Study harder, I don’t know what you’ll do, I need the marks. Still no improvement? Go for tuitions. Still no marks? Something’s wrong with you, is the standard mantra.

The sad truth is that if your child isn’t naturally gifted enough in studies, no amount of hard work will be able to achieve the results you expect. This doesn’t spell that your kid is a total zero and has no future though, like many assume.

Aren’t there other professions, other talents? Every child is naturally gifted in something. May not be in studies, but may in art, music, sports or something else. All these can be pursued as professions too; parents mostly don’t seem to understand that there are other careers than your standard doctor, teacher and engineer.

I am in grade ten. When people want to know about my future plans, first of all, they don’t speak to me. They ask my parents, like it’s them who’s going to live my life. And their question will usually go, “So, what is your daughter going to become- a doctor, or CA?” When my parents say neither, they’ll go knowingly, “Oh, so she’s going be an engineer. Wonderful!”

Huh?

There are so many friends in India that I know of, who want to pursue their own interests. Sadly these are repressed merely because they are not conventional. Parents need to broaden their perspectives and accept their child’s passion, not force something they don’t like upon them.

2. Then are those who are lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender. Most of the adult public is aware of at least one of these groups. But they surely don’t show it. Put your nose up and it’ll go away, is it? People with different sexual inclinations do exist, they live normally, they breathe the same way as we do. There are quite some children who grow up falling into one of these categories. After facing insecurity, unacceptability, and fear, when they finally do pick up the courage to let their parents know of their inclinations, things only get worse. They are disowned, their parents look on them as if they were untouchable, and try to suppress their personality and coax them into ‘normality’- none of which is a solution.

Another terrified question would be posed, “how would the society react?” Yeah, that’s one worth pondering on, because I’ve only seen adults themselves, mocking at transgender/bisexual groups, and movies ridiculing them. It is a shame that in India, these classes, to which any one of us might have by chance belonged to, are made fun of like a public circus show. Anyone or anyone’s child could easily belong to this category; it’s not an outlandish possibility. So we Indians face an inevitable question, “Would you accept your kid or any other co-member of your society if they were a LGB or T?”

Stop neglecting this topic. Try to answer it.

3. Next comes the ‘love’ versus the religiously right ‘arranged’ marriage. What is arranged marriage? A system in which parents fall in love with each other’s money, or with each other’s sarees, properties, behavior, or caste, and so expect that their children should fall in love too? Absurd.

While I don’t say this system of marriage is completely flawed, because it often does become a success, and it’s a ‘fun’ activity for the parents and relatives to undertake, logging on....see the entire article on women's web itself! here's the link:http://www.womensweb.in/2013/04/a-letter-to-indian-parents/

Sunday, March 10, 2013

A deceitful hero

Heya ma dearies :D This poem got me the second place at Taaleem poetry award in The emirates airline festival of literature!
Check it out, and let me know what you think!
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I decide you are my hero,
As I indulge in your flawlessly luscious stuff.
Your Shades crawl as the tingling flavors unite,
With, a fizzling burst of chocolate, like an angry volcano.
Effervescence as CO2 is released from your
Thick soft brunette mass- an exothermic reaction!
And then you dissolve into my mouth when I
Stuff you in, hungrily. Ah, your succulence!
Even as you flow down, your flavor lingers
In my smacking tongue, my salivating mouth. My hero!

But then- you cruelly invade my tummy,
Corroding its walls, with your treacherous treacle,
Betrayer! You nourish the evil parasites in me.
Appearances are only a facade, and so seems that
Fleeting flavor too, for now, only jiffies later, I can
Feel- not your saccharinity, but an excruciating ache
In my teeth; calling for an appointment at the dentist’s.
Now your definition evolves for, you’ve cost my time, diet
And sparkly teeth. Yet I always remain unsuspecting fly,
Repeatedly caught in your alluring, sticky web. Villain!

Monday, February 25, 2013

size zero not equals to 'perfection'!

Take a look at the cover of any girls', sports, luxury, lifestyle or women's magazine, with a female on the cover. Most likely, that the girl would be size zero, if not size insert-a-negative-number-here. The entire world seems to be obsessed with this skinny look, which fashion magazines and media celebrates, wrongly, as 'the ideal' size. This includes teen girls' magazines, like teen vogue, girl's life, and most other magazines, that claim that it's their motto to 'boost' the teens 'self-esteem', while in real life they are actually pressurizing young girls by setting an ideal, a must-reach goal of an emaciated figure that is very hard, and even unhealthy, to attain. Most cliques in schools, following media's ravings, also define this skinniness as 'perfection'. The readership of these teen magazines mostly consists of ordinary, differently shaped teens, not real, haute bikini-bodied models, and yet this superficial image is what is worshipped like a religion.

Promotion of skinny culture indirectly encourages eating disorders, boosting anxiety, and prematurely placing too much emphasis on little nine and ten year olds already making them beauty conscious, and so, robbing them of a carefree childhood.

Following this crazy trend, many desperately try to shed off pounds the quick way-say, by starving themselves (then bingeing later), having reconstructive, weight loss drugs and pound shedding surgeries or by other means, which usually don't work out. Either that or they sink into a trench of depression, stressing and sulking about their flabbiness, and about not being underweight. Sudden, self-made skimpy diet plans, are adopted as a result, to put off all weight abruptly. But, acute diet plans to cut down skin, can severely damage our bones, putting us in danger of getting osteoporosis (a chronic condition where the bones become weak and brittle).

Try entering 'size' in Google search. Before you know it, you will already by debilitated by a whole load of stuff relating to size zero- diet, food, designers, models, clothes, cheats, and what not.

The real question is, is size zero actually 'perfect'? Not really. While it's one thing to be a naturally petite size zero while still eating all you want, is one thing, forcing this alien size into your body may well have the opposite effect. Moreover, the beauty of the body isn't necessarily defined by having no mass. No, curves beautify, muscles, and the right sort of fitness build strength and shape, and so do each person's natural physique. We all look, and are sized differently, to suit our natural persona well. The world would become too monotonous if everyone started puking out their food to make their bones protrude. It is ironical that while really poor children in the third world countries are dying of malnutrition, their much wealthier counterparts in developed regions are also starving of the same, just because they want to look undernourished.

Take a look at the aftermath of eating disorders. In early 2006, Brazilian model Ana Carolina Reston, 21, died of anorexia and bulimia on the eve of a Paris photoshoot after living on a diet of apples and tomatoes. The death of Uruguayan model Luisel Ramos at the Uruguay Fashion Week in 2006 led to the ban on size zero girls parading at the Madrid fashion shows. Her father claimed that she had been fasting for days. The already skinny 22-year-old had been informed by her model agency that she could "make it big" if she lost a significant amount of weight. She collapsed died despite the efforts of an emergency team trying to resuscitate her.

We are ourselves to blame for this size zero mania. Why would the top designers and magazines so actively continue featuring and supplementing diets and tips for this trend if no person cared to follow it? It is because we are so avidly following and falling prey to this glossy trap, and are consciously or otherwise promoting it ourselves, that it is being heralded. If every one of us learns to love our own body the way it is, instead of yearning something that we don't have, the skinny frame would lose all its rage, and that in turn, could lead to hundreds of lives being saved. For even today, young girls are dying, of eating disorders and starvation to achieve what is foolishly branded desirable. It is up to each one of us to fight back this degrading culture. Size zero, is way too praised, and glittery, but it definitely is not gold

Monday, February 18, 2013

Why India's workforce has such great potential

My first article as an NRI contributor at The Times of India :D
Let me know what you think.
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http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/nri/contributors/contributions/keertana/Why-Indias-workforce-has-such-great-
potential/articleshow/18553909.cms?


A company involved in any activity primary, secondary, or based on human resource, will in most cases have some number of Indians working in it, may it be in any corner of the world. That India constitutes 15%of the world populace is a boon in disguise. Most companies now bank on India, Bangladesh and china for their labor intensive activities like construction, assembly, repairs etc. mainly due to the inexpensive pay, and the abundant supply of labor available in these locales. So, in producing massive numbers for manual activities, India stands with the rest of its subcontinent, and a few other developing countries from Africa, and South America.

But as far as the tertiary sector, involving IT, engineering and technology goes, India stands alone. No other country in the subcontinent, or in the Far East (Philippines, Indonesia), Africa, or America, produces such abundant, skilled, English speaking, educated workforce, at relatively cheap rates. There is no other country in the world that meets nearly all these requirements as efficiently.

It is a fact that the cost of employing, running, and completing a project in a developing country will definitely be more economic, and cut down the costs largely. A study in the duke university recently found that while roughly 70,000 engineers graduated in the US, 6, 00,000 graduated in China and 3, 50,000 in India. In the UK some 23,000 engineers are graduating every year. But India is producing eight times as many. Apart from such a huge jobseeker base, Companies from abroad, who complete their projects basing them in India, are, on an average, able to cut down on about 40-50% of their operation costs. This is probably why India is serving as a magnet to thousands of companies who are moving their bases here.

Not that these benefits are unidirectional, or only for the companies. Indian jobseekers benefit abundantly, too. There are lakhs of new engineering graduates every year, and most of them struggling to secure employment. Apart from just generating employment, these MNCs and IT giants bring along with them, numerous benefits, like assured health insurance, education costs, better technology, and decent or great salaries. They provide windows for communication with the tech world outside the country, with new practices and methods. And after all, it's only the people who strongly desire to, that join a company, so naturally, it much, at least in the slightest, benefit them.

Our government benefits too. Though the stipulated SEZs (special economic zones, to attract foreign investment) exempt companies from certain taxes, they are not completely freed from contributing economically. Eventually they do underwrite by generating foreign monetary exchange, and contributing to most exports. Som Mittal, president of the National Association of Software and Services Companies was quoted saying, "Nearly 35 per cent of our export revenues come from MNCs and captives and, therefore, we need to encourage them to set up their development centers in India rather than move to the Philippines or China"

Because of their investments in infrastructure, MNCs also steer economic and structural development, accelerating modernization.

Some companies even complain that this has led to an 'Indian mafia' or excessive domination of Indian workforce in their companies all over the world that are based elsewhere. Some even attempted vainly, to search for workforce from other countries, in hope of reducing some number of Indians from their company and replacing them with people from other nationalities.

On an urgent project to find economical workforce, an IT company that travelled first to far east, and middle east, found about a hundred jobseekers, out of which only a few were fit to hire. Then, finally, on stumbling into India, it found a two thousand jobseekers, most accepting far more feasible wages that their former counterparts.

Hence it is nowadays, fast becoming a sensible option, more than anything else, to choose India, or china, before any other place in the world- they offer such an attractive package, and a great growth potential, after all.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

crush

Crush
Comes without a warning and
Pushes you hard, down the ground,
Defenceless.
Crush
Increases your blood pressure
And colors your face hurriedly like
A nursery kid in a painting contest.
Crush
Paralyzes your strong athletic feet
And tickles you inside till
You wobble like a klutzy jelly.
Crush
Looks so hypnotically hot
That your head will be in the Sahara
When you’re only still in Serbia.
Crush
May crush your fragile little
Fist sized heart, ruthlessly
By not returning your unsolicited favor.
Crush
Will speak honeyed words like an
Angel from paradise, but when you would
Be too frozen and,
Busy looking at its beautiful lips,
It will lose interest and move away.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

carefree childhood


Light dance,
Innocent smile,
Stepping right inside,
Every third tile.

Bobbing that Puffy
Hair style, and laughing
With those missing teeth.

Evanescently flippant moods,
But an everlasting curiosity
About the little things in life.

 Filled inside with
Tender youth, this little
Seedling, is squinting at the
Bright, glaring, raw rays
Of the severe sun,
For the first time.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

what ails India's education system?

hey everyone!
Here's my article dated 26/dec/12 as published in The new Indian express, though that's bit edited, here's the original.
P.S: Hope you have an extraordinary new year with new endeavors, and a lot of happiness!
so, the world didn't end after all! :)
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India's is quite known for it's education system all over the world but the problem is only that most of this 'good' quality education is provided in private schools, mostly in urban cities, and even these schools can do with some reforms. again education is not only at school but actually begins at home. So everywhere, in homes and schools there are some things that, if kept in mind, can secure a brighter future for India's youth, your children:
1.Break the tradition of rote learning. Practical experiments cannot be learnt through lab manuals, a language cannot be learnt through mugging it's rules, and moral science cannot be learnt by scoring full marks in it's exam. We have to break the traditional way of theoretical, textual learning and replace it with a more practical, manner of getting educated. To make students relate better to their subjects, do more activities, inculcate more projects and real life applications, most importantly in government schools.
2.people associate quality of education with the amount of things students learn before the graduate from school. what people fail to understand is that, it is not the amount the students learn that matters, but how well the student understands every topic. even if only a few, but important, topics are covered, the schools have to make sure that the message of the topic clearly gets through. real literacy can only be brought about with more realistic ways of teaching.
3. marks are given too much priority by parents. students these days, are seen learning, not for what they will gain from it to prepare for life, but to score more marks to keep in pace with their parents' expectations. parents should start encouraging the child, in not just the field related to marks and exams but in more important fields like social relationships, leadership, practical and communication skills.
4. many want their children to study well so that they can secure a wealthy future. but health is wealth. India has increasing obesity rates mainly because of the children spending too much time in front of the T.V or the textbook, which is not good for the overall development of the child. parents and teachers must realize the importance of an active healthy life, and start inculcating exercise and healthy eating habits in their children right from a young age. remember parents, this will also ensure your child's future happiness, because he will be happy, both with his money and with his body.
5. inculcate leadership. every person has an innate leader in them and that leader is capable of achieving great things. Encourage the child not only in what you want him to progress at. Instead, support the child's natural talents and help launch what he already has a knack for. also help every child realize his unique potential. don't demotivate.
6. don't expect too much. branding a child a guaranteed IITian the moment he is born just because you want him to be one won’t help. every child has his own inclinations and abilities, and every child cannot be the top ranker. besides, there are other fields that exist in the world apart from studies, like music, dance, writing, designing, sports etc. accept your child for who he is.
7. the government schools must improve their administration. We usually find that, in private schools, the teaching is more efficient. this is not because the teachers here get more salary. on the contrary, these teachers are most effective because they are constantly scrutinized by the private administration. however, in government schools, salary, regular work, holidays every other day, good pensions and everything is guaranteed. also, corruption is eating up about half the resources which were meant to benefit the kids. 

HOW TO HERD YOUR WILD TEEN


Hey guys, here's my latest article, just as published on women's web. check it out and let me know what you think!
Teenagers can sometimes be the most difficult things to handle on earth, which is for some part, a valid point. But the fact is also that every parent has to go through this stage. What many parents (and articles) overlook, though, is the fact that every teenager is the same child they once were and are the same adults they will one day, be.
Acceptance and understand can make the treacherous ocean of teenage years a smoother sail for both parents and adolescents. Perhaps, if some things were ruled out clearly, life would be made easier for many parents who are convinced that they are raising wild rebels. 
A teenager talks1. We are going through a transition. Adolescence is a time when we enter an entirely new arena, one hovering between the fantasy of childhood, and the daunting reality of adulthood. Teenage is a time when we are only planning our map and discovering new things, so that in another few years we will finally discover our own path. Parents have to understand this fact. Try not reaching conclusions about your teen’s character, for it is still constantly evolving. If you find this challenging, try reminding yourself of your own teenage years.
2. Don’t set expectations too high. Be realistic about what you want your child to achieve. Everyone has different potential and not everyone is a wunderkind. Don’t pressurize your teen to become something he doesn’t want to, or cannot. Importantly, don’t compare your kid with someone else, “why can’t you be like that friend of yours?” or “how can Aisha be so smart? She’s also 15!”
3. Respect our space. Teenage is a time when new cravings for freedom and discord for independence emerge. It is important to respect this desire and not doubt your child’s motives excessively.
4. If you want to keep watch, that’s all right. While it is true that teenagers need some autonomy, it is also equally vital that parents keep a note of their child’s activities. As this is a tricky period when adolescents can easily get carried away with wrong choices, we understand that parents need to be informed. But it is equally important that you do this policing through straightforward means. Sneaking, finding out through friends, spying secretly will only trigger rebellion and insurgence. Instead, ask direct questions, talk to your teenager about the perils of immoral activities and choices and confide your anxieties openly.
5. Be a friend, lose the doubt. Trust is a key relationship that has to be maintained throughout any relationship, especially in that between a parent and the kid. Constant skepticism will only lead to an uprising, withdrawal and retreat.
6. We are young, and wild and free. Or at least, this the time when we think that way. Allow fun time, a little bit of adventure, outing with friends, instead of being too restrictive, while at the same time ensuring we are doing our duties. Also, bonding, at family times, or setting up a fixed outing periodically can help teenagers and parents understand each other better.
7. Accept the generation gap. Twenty first century youth are definitely different, with all the facebook-ing and crazy blogging culture but there are still some commonalities too with your time, parties and loud music haven’t changed. But remember, we cannot be the same teenager you were, or the teenager that every one of our friends is. Every person is different and so is every generation.
8. Don’t forget that we love you. Whatever the quarrel, the anger and the row may be about; even teenagers are filled in the inside with a mushy heart.
Try mutual trust, shared relationship and understanding and you might realize we are really not wild, spoilt brats after all. We will be there for you in your older ages and we are attempting in every way, to understand things better and will one day, make you proud
http://www.womensweb.in/2013/01/teenager-talks-about-parenting/