The Artistic Imagery

" They tell you to be yourself and then they judge you" It was just a few days back that while scrolling down the pages of my social media feeds, I came across a post, where a mother staying in Toronto, wrote about how her son became the prey of school bullyism ,which even got his life. The post was in fact a request which she had made to the school authorities regarding their cooperation.  The school authorities hadn't cooperated as they thought it might degrade their reputation..such was their attitude towards a student who studied at their school..  You must have heard about the story of " Thirteen reasons why" ( though there's no offence in not knowing about it). It's not a story of only Hannah Baker or of some high school student but its way more than that. Its a story of how the present society works. It's a story that says: " They tell you to be yourself and then they judge you". "Bullyism" The word seems so lucid to spell,

The world is very vast. There are countries and within them contain the states and within them, the cities . It is in these cities political life nourishes, within the gaps of political life, we find wonderful traces of nature and it's natural beauty..The globe being huge can be a reason of us staying in oblivion, regarding their mere existence.  Whenever I interact with people and tell them regarding my place of origin, they are quite not sure where "Siliguri" actually is. Sometimes they think its in Nepal and it's becomes quite depressing   for me. Thus I have come here to acknowledge everyone of this small place, named Siliguri, quite situated on the foothills of The Himalayas, serving as the gateway to the NorthEastern part of India.  If anyone googles out, they can really find all the geographical data associated to this place, so let me tell some interesting facts ( that you will not find on the Google) ; that I have collected over the last 19 ye

" The realism of our existence has been overshadowed by the curtain of the need to exist "   The sun rises and sets in, and in between them a day has passed, this continues on and on and a week passes, this week in turn now changes to months and to years. Thus a percent of our mere existence is gone. Hearing the alarm our day starts, watching the hands tick, it slogs and ends in a mechanical flow of the pendulum. This is what, is the meaning of life to many, I am not saying all but most...  You might remember that during our initial times, the days when we were all kids, we had interests, we liked certain things and practised them amidst our busy schedule, and that is what kept us from slogging off.  Each interest used to be different from the other, each unique in their own way.  I remember, my interest was in collecting pen refills ( though used) ,I know it's not that cool, as to collecting stamps or insects, but still .. I had a variety of refills- gel, dot, parker, Ge