The Making of an Ambition

www.shutterstock.com

The seven year old pursed her lips, eyebrows creased in deep thought. An Apsara pencil was held tight in her right hand. Craning her little neck, she tried to peek into her partner's notebook but found nothing useful. So once again she returned to her train of thought, tapping the freshly sharpened pencil on her chin. Their class teacher was moving from bench to bench, planting smiles in each of their faces.

Something stirred in her mind. "Teacher!", the little one thought suddenly, "I want to become a teacher!" Tightening her grip on the pencil, she neatly filled in the space in her notebook under the column titled 'My ambition'.

I am India's Daughter

Parivartravels

A cozy bed, newspaper ahead, and a nice cup of tea.
A perfect morning it was to be.
Flipping through pages of the paper and this photo is chanced upon.
This merry photo of little boys playing football in the beach.
Just another photograph of kids relishing the summer heat.
Just another game for the boys in the beach.
And yet this photo held something more; something that tingled my nerves.
This harmless picture rekindling the rebel soul itching to break out.
A gush of impulse springing from the shackled freedom within.

Tea or Coffee

Media.salon.com

“Tea or coffee?”

I turned to my sister out of habit. Any question directed at me was to be answered by her. I was the little one in the family who didn’t know the good from bad, or the better from good. But she always knew what to do.