Wednesday, August 08, 2012

The hiroshima girl


It is me knocking at your door
- at how many doors i've been
But no one can see me
Since the dead are invisible.

I died at Hiroshima
that was ten years ago
I am a girl of seven
Dead children do not grow.

First my hair caught fire
then my eyes burnt out
I became a handful of ashes
blown away by the wind.

I don't wish anything for myself
for a child who is burnt to cinders
cannot even eat sweets.

I'm knocking at your doors
aunts and uncles, to get your signatures
so that never again children will burn
and so they can eat sweets.

'Hiroshima Girl' is the english translation of Turkish poem by Nazim Hikmet.

These lines by Oscar Wilde and an infamous image from Vietnam
A child can understand a punishment inflicted by an individual, such as a parent or guardian, and bear it with a certain amount of acquiescence. What it cannot understand is a punishment inflicted by society...

Monday, August 06, 2012

Bolt !!!

This was something you really cannot miss, the world stopped at 2.20am IST and the Bolt at 9.63sec. Effortless?!! Not really...