She splatters the pool of rain waters with her feeble gait, dragging herself forward. She is a ten year old girl, alone in a dark street, with parched feet and meek eyes. Before she knows what life is, she is well acquainted with the deep valley of despair. Her eyes shine as she has reminiscence of despicable memories she has ventured, oozing out a frantic look of disgust in her. The poor little kid does not even apprehend what happened to her. She was scrapped, bashed, smashed, crushed and thrown out in the street. She could not stand the fervent mental trauma and it was like millions of worms swarming and creeping on her mind. She has been hurled by a vicious carnivore.
It does not stop just there. The feather shaved bird is easily pent up. Her juvenility is the invitation and key to the smutty carnivorous interest. Her baby hand is brutally pulled into a car. Her cheeks turn pink on a tight blow on it; her voice comes up with shrieking, yet dimming bleat. The vehicle transports her to a metropolitan city, damps her in the herd of other such adolescents. These girls are breeding there with saturated misery and cheeks with dirt of dried up tears, quietly musing erroneous melodies of their lives.
The girls are then royally adored, labelled products of lure that are on high demand when they are sold abroad. They are the capital investment, products, sellers and the profit by themselves. They are the red carom coins, who are bashed to the edges of life, staggering, floundering and stalked by blacks and whites. They are splinters reducing in size each time. All the game is for business. Pornographic and lascivious malignity governs the entire network of it for the gluttony of money.
All of these (them-the girls and boys; boys are not out of his coverage) belong to a vicious Satan who has a parasitic livelihood at the cost of nascent flesh and bones of innocents; who peacefully slumbers in the melody of agonizing moans and bleats of babies when chocked by the giant foot and ripping apart their heads; who relishes the sharp thunderous peck of the eagle on a half dead rat, gasping for life. He is a living corpse, a zombie that haunts and hunts for the fucking dead penny.
Not just girls it is intricate to delve the evolution of an abused boy into a drastic target of doom and its footprints on the collapse of societal well-being. The celestial maternal relationship of the offspring is broiled into fumes once the umbilical cord is untied for those who are born victims out of unlicensed salacious urge. The cruelty of not spouting out the fetus ditches the child into the infernal abyss of life. This is the most compact and monstrous mode of child abuse. A lofty proportion of such babies are children who abode in the streets. They swarm themselves with multifarious children who are pulled down to streets for hunger, shelter and livelihood. They suckle the milk of desolation and torment impelled to them by birth and brought up as a product of it. A part of this cluster entourage to a stinky corpse-eater who leeches and stouts with the alms of this poverty-stricken pack, harnessing them as a ring master and sometime handicaps them for sympathy that steers productivity. These famish children endeavor selling petty goods and play toys in traffics and are constrained to sell themselves as play toys at times.
On lighting up the other part of the cluster we ascertain something vaguer. The anchovy that endures the aforementioned business and is capable of absconding from it turns up into an efficient shark. The novice kid will initially be bruised in local food stalls and tea stations, knocks the windows of cars to sell or beg, or bleed their feet fishing plastic in the trash of each street to dull hunger. They fade out of care and are excreted into neglect and solitude. Solitude is the ultimate game changer. It is powerful enough to grace Sid to Buddha or perish one to the base.
Violence is their tool for safety. They are adulterated in the hands of vile guys. Kids imprint what they see around them and trust it to follow. Profanity spouting out of their mouths is the commencement. They are scrambled by cops and illegal agents. The adolescents become play coins of their malignity and greed for money. They bask in the smoke of tobacco, bathe in the alcoholic empire, have a cozy laze in the cloud of drug and chill up with call girls when they grow up. He is transformed into an agent for bootlegging drugs and girls. He develops into a rusty machine that betakes and annihilates anything for money. Once they are cozy enough with the money they easily get out of it, relishing profit out of sweat pearls is tiresome and irking.
As years roll on, he is the one to abduct the girl, in our earlier encounter, for money, later accomplishes the field fast and becomes alpha monster. When a rich guy undergoes the same scenario he is the one who plays the business we saw earlier. The one who abuses the other are victims of abuse. They barely realize it wrong, even if they know they have ardent reason and justification for it.
An idea is more robust and vigorous for destruction than a nuclear bomb, hard to sow yet integrates into massive interest and actions. This aids the corporates and media to quench their malignity. They are being hunter magnets that penetrate the minds and thoughts inculcating venom in them. People who unlock this trick and knack of deception are business fellows and hot shots, the rest are consumers and the intermediate are agents. And this is why and how we chase and roam around insane with so called trends and fashion, sports, lustrous products promoted by glib advertisements and even politics. Internet is one of the fervent media through which the flu is transferred. There is always a pop-up link with pornography every third page we surf on, models in bikinis for motorcycle advertisements every 10 minutes intervening shows, a glamour girl crawls in every fifth page of a magazine.
Experts term it ‘embedded journalism’, the method of injecting desired virus (idea) into the thoughts of multitude via media. None of us has escaped clicking on it at least in the ninety-eighth time it popped up; sometime it happens accidentally, thus we justify ourselves. This is the way of kindling up, thus securely promoting and provoking to procure it. As a corollary of it, no girl flits away denying that she has not come across menial abuse in buses, neither a boy can declare him unabused. Children are vulnerable in heterogeneous pack of society comprising of vile colleagues, shelter home guards, street rogues, even doctors and teachers, kith and kin, adored friends and acquaintance hiding in decent blankets until caught by an abused child. A child grapples and struggles to get through the torment when exposed to such fraught circumstance. So parents must be the amiable host to receive child’s hesitations, queries and complaints, rather than putting off them. Parents should feed children with confidence and valor enough on how to react against fraught situations and to overcome them. Let us make sure that orphans we see have a proper guide to mould their lives and souls. We of course have tons and tons of gentle folks. Predators are degraded plums in the cake of society that ruins the whole cake. Also, people change at times accordingly.
No animal hinders its private parts with cloth or leaves. They do not wear up civilizations and fashions. They are not shameless, but we. They do not have lustful appeal on one another 24/7, even when their private parts and hot zones are exposed. Because they do not see those only as an organ of sex. Five is greater than six in all spheres. Let us learn from our predecessors (animals) how to be civilized in manners.
Let us teach our sons, brothers and friends how clumsiness, rage, torment, perplexity, meekness and inability captivate the tender mind of the innocent girl/boy when her/his hot zones surpass other’s attention and become points of lure. Let us preach that sex is a segment of life and is not the bitter or dark part of it. It is a physical urge just like hunger, thirst, breath and rest. Let us not inter it deep so that the child tends to delve and apprehend it in a wrong sense. Keep it casual and light. Tell them that the hot zones are not merely meant for lechery, but for a more noble purpose. Make them relish the miracles of nature through it. Let them know those parts as organs of miracle, rather than concealing it as a matter of mystery. Money and sex are the weapons for life. We are dead and off the game without weapons. The trick is to procure regulation. When we greed and amass them in loads we become vile monster with destructive weapons.
It does not stop just there. The feather shaved bird is easily pent up. Her juvenility is the invitation and key to the smutty carnivorous interest. Her baby hand is brutally pulled into a car. Her cheeks turn pink on a tight blow on it; her voice comes up with shrieking, yet dimming bleat. The vehicle transports her to a metropolitan city, damps her in the herd of other such adolescents. These girls are breeding there with saturated misery and cheeks with dirt of dried up tears, quietly musing erroneous melodies of their lives.
The girls are then royally adored, labelled products of lure that are on high demand when they are sold abroad. They are the capital investment, products, sellers and the profit by themselves. They are the red carom coins, who are bashed to the edges of life, staggering, floundering and stalked by blacks and whites. They are splinters reducing in size each time. All the game is for business. Pornographic and lascivious malignity governs the entire network of it for the gluttony of money.
All of these (them-the girls and boys; boys are not out of his coverage) belong to a vicious Satan who has a parasitic livelihood at the cost of nascent flesh and bones of innocents; who peacefully slumbers in the melody of agonizing moans and bleats of babies when chocked by the giant foot and ripping apart their heads; who relishes the sharp thunderous peck of the eagle on a half dead rat, gasping for life. He is a living corpse, a zombie that haunts and hunts for the fucking dead penny.
Not just girls it is intricate to delve the evolution of an abused boy into a drastic target of doom and its footprints on the collapse of societal well-being. The celestial maternal relationship of the offspring is broiled into fumes once the umbilical cord is untied for those who are born victims out of unlicensed salacious urge. The cruelty of not spouting out the fetus ditches the child into the infernal abyss of life. This is the most compact and monstrous mode of child abuse. A lofty proportion of such babies are children who abode in the streets. They swarm themselves with multifarious children who are pulled down to streets for hunger, shelter and livelihood. They suckle the milk of desolation and torment impelled to them by birth and brought up as a product of it. A part of this cluster entourage to a stinky corpse-eater who leeches and stouts with the alms of this poverty-stricken pack, harnessing them as a ring master and sometime handicaps them for sympathy that steers productivity. These famish children endeavor selling petty goods and play toys in traffics and are constrained to sell themselves as play toys at times.
On lighting up the other part of the cluster we ascertain something vaguer. The anchovy that endures the aforementioned business and is capable of absconding from it turns up into an efficient shark. The novice kid will initially be bruised in local food stalls and tea stations, knocks the windows of cars to sell or beg, or bleed their feet fishing plastic in the trash of each street to dull hunger. They fade out of care and are excreted into neglect and solitude. Solitude is the ultimate game changer. It is powerful enough to grace Sid to Buddha or perish one to the base.
Violence is their tool for safety. They are adulterated in the hands of vile guys. Kids imprint what they see around them and trust it to follow. Profanity spouting out of their mouths is the commencement. They are scrambled by cops and illegal agents. The adolescents become play coins of their malignity and greed for money. They bask in the smoke of tobacco, bathe in the alcoholic empire, have a cozy laze in the cloud of drug and chill up with call girls when they grow up. He is transformed into an agent for bootlegging drugs and girls. He develops into a rusty machine that betakes and annihilates anything for money. Once they are cozy enough with the money they easily get out of it, relishing profit out of sweat pearls is tiresome and irking.
As years roll on, he is the one to abduct the girl, in our earlier encounter, for money, later accomplishes the field fast and becomes alpha monster. When a rich guy undergoes the same scenario he is the one who plays the business we saw earlier. The one who abuses the other are victims of abuse. They barely realize it wrong, even if they know they have ardent reason and justification for it.
An idea is more robust and vigorous for destruction than a nuclear bomb, hard to sow yet integrates into massive interest and actions. This aids the corporates and media to quench their malignity. They are being hunter magnets that penetrate the minds and thoughts inculcating venom in them. People who unlock this trick and knack of deception are business fellows and hot shots, the rest are consumers and the intermediate are agents. And this is why and how we chase and roam around insane with so called trends and fashion, sports, lustrous products promoted by glib advertisements and even politics. Internet is one of the fervent media through which the flu is transferred. There is always a pop-up link with pornography every third page we surf on, models in bikinis for motorcycle advertisements every 10 minutes intervening shows, a glamour girl crawls in every fifth page of a magazine.
Experts term it ‘embedded journalism’, the method of injecting desired virus (idea) into the thoughts of multitude via media. None of us has escaped clicking on it at least in the ninety-eighth time it popped up; sometime it happens accidentally, thus we justify ourselves. This is the way of kindling up, thus securely promoting and provoking to procure it. As a corollary of it, no girl flits away denying that she has not come across menial abuse in buses, neither a boy can declare him unabused. Children are vulnerable in heterogeneous pack of society comprising of vile colleagues, shelter home guards, street rogues, even doctors and teachers, kith and kin, adored friends and acquaintance hiding in decent blankets until caught by an abused child. A child grapples and struggles to get through the torment when exposed to such fraught circumstance. So parents must be the amiable host to receive child’s hesitations, queries and complaints, rather than putting off them. Parents should feed children with confidence and valor enough on how to react against fraught situations and to overcome them. Let us make sure that orphans we see have a proper guide to mould their lives and souls. We of course have tons and tons of gentle folks. Predators are degraded plums in the cake of society that ruins the whole cake. Also, people change at times accordingly.
No animal hinders its private parts with cloth or leaves. They do not wear up civilizations and fashions. They are not shameless, but we. They do not have lustful appeal on one another 24/7, even when their private parts and hot zones are exposed. Because they do not see those only as an organ of sex. Five is greater than six in all spheres. Let us learn from our predecessors (animals) how to be civilized in manners.
Let us teach our sons, brothers and friends how clumsiness, rage, torment, perplexity, meekness and inability captivate the tender mind of the innocent girl/boy when her/his hot zones surpass other’s attention and become points of lure. Let us preach that sex is a segment of life and is not the bitter or dark part of it. It is a physical urge just like hunger, thirst, breath and rest. Let us not inter it deep so that the child tends to delve and apprehend it in a wrong sense. Keep it casual and light. Tell them that the hot zones are not merely meant for lechery, but for a more noble purpose. Make them relish the miracles of nature through it. Let them know those parts as organs of miracle, rather than concealing it as a matter of mystery. Money and sex are the weapons for life. We are dead and off the game without weapons. The trick is to procure regulation. When we greed and amass them in loads we become vile monster with destructive weapons.
#Jaye
