Her pain was like a growing unknown tumour, causing her to suffer without any reason. Her silence and printed facade conceived the truth within her soul as she perceived to be the ideal picture of happiness. She smiled to the world, but cried to the skies of secrets. It's wasn't naivety, instead it was her saviour from the world of judgemental imbeciles.
In the past one week, a reputed school is in the news for the wrong reasons. A teacher has misbehaved with students for the last several years but only now it has come to light thanks to the efforts of the alumni of the school who have given voice to the young hapless children who are still suffering at his hands.
Abusers identify those kids who may be too timid to protest or succumb to their threats. In this way the abuse gets hidden and is never showcased and all efforts are taken to brush it under the carpet.
Abuse by a person whom the child looks up to, scars the child for life and they become either aggressive or go into a shell in their adult life.
Mirakee word of the day: secret. I shudder to think how many students have kept the secret and now finally have found courage to talk about it.
Suitable checks and precautions for prevention of such crimes, stringent actions against the wrong doers and maximum awareness are possibly the best ways to handle abuse of children by some teachers.
raghavendran@ashamurali It is a most obnoxious deed from a person who is expected to set an example to others by leading them towards an exemplary goal in life. Hats off to those who have taken the lead to expose the misdeeds of this man. A timely warning to such despicable people through this wonderful poem. Keep it up.
sproutedseedsThe current topic well penned on the challenge. The world is becoming dreadful day by day with fear all the time in every thing we do , in every place we go and every person we meet.
safflowerThank you for writing this:)) This step of writing is appreciatable
I didn't love thee but be assured, I told none. I kept wearing the mask of your warmth in the pickling heat of July. Summer days languid and traumatic to my senses are well hidden under the garb of honour. "Believe me love, no one can spot the lie."
Give me an opportunity, a fair chance to show my utmost devotion, Remember the night when the flower moon illuminated with its might and you had your gaze fixed at the sky.
I had smiled at you and the abhorring moon. Had to fix my deed by fixing my gaze on the passing time on my old Chinese watch, gifted by your well wisher.
Did you see how quiet and fine had I covered my secret? Our secret?
I look at calender and it makes me truly smile, The days will passing, The age will passing, Soon the youth will pass, And I am elated to declare, "You and your filthy thoughts also won't last."