Monday, 1 September 2014
HARDBOILED: MOTHBALL REPUBLIC
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Sunday, 31 August 2014
Pebble In The Still Waters: Author Interview: Helena Fairfax: The Silk Romance...
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Pebble In The Still Waters: Author Interview: Kelly Jones: The Seventh Unicorn...
Pebble In The Still Waters: Author Interview: Kelly Jones: The Seventh Unicorn...: Kelly Jones grew up in Twin Falls, Idaho. She attended Gonzaga University in Spokane, Washington, and spent her junior year in Italy at...
Friday, 29 August 2014
Whatever Needs To Be Done, Inc.: You will get a response within 24 hours, if not...
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You will get a response within 24 hours, if not...: You will get a response within 24 hours, if not sooner! My references are on my LinkedIn Profile. Angela J. Shirley ...
You will get a response within 24 hours, if not...: You will get a response within 24 hours, if not sooner! My references are on my LinkedIn Profile. Angela J. Shirley ...
Friday, 22 August 2014
Matheikal's Blog: Importance of Flattery
Matheikal's Blog: Importance of Flattery: Self-actualisation is the only motive that drives an organism. Psychologist Kurt Goldstein said that. Self-actualisation, in simple wor...
Sunday, 27 July 2014
Cover Reveal: Nirmala: The Mud Blossom ~ Crying Out To Your Heart
Nirmala: The Mud Blossom ~
Crying Out To Your Heart
Coming soon . . . Nirmala: The Mud Blossom
by Fiza Pathan
There is a difference between the cry of the cock and
the bleating of a young lamb. There also is a difference between the gaze of
the wise owl and the stare of the fanged serpent. In this same way, I, too, am
different from you.
There is a difference between the blood shed on the
battlefield and the blood drawn out by the physician’s needle. There also is a
difference between the hot sandy desert of Arabia and the cold bleakness of the
Arctic. In this same way, I, too, am different from you.
You were born in a hospital, and your mother took
you into her arms gently, as if you were a toy made of china glass. Your father
washed his hands thrice before he even touched your cheeks and looked into your
eyes, fantasizing about whose eyes you’d received—your father’s jet black eyes
or your mother’s honey brown ones.
This is the difference between you, dear reader,
and me, for your family took you home after you were born . . . whereas mine dumped
me into a dustbin near the clinic where I was born, all because I was a girl.
Unwanted by all, my dreams were snuffed out on the
footpath that led to the dark world of gender differentiation. In dirt did I
find my solace. In the filth of the slum did I find my home.
My name is Nirmala Acharya, and I was rejected by
my society because I was born a female. The pain of being unwanted has scarred
my flesh as deeply as the daily beltings I received. My clothes smell of human
excreta and my hair is filled with knots and lice. But on the inside, I’m just
like you. The sad thing is, it doesn’t really matter what’s inside of me,
because I was born all wrong on the outside. I’m just a girl.
I study, too, you know. I've got books and pencils
and stuff, but do you know where I study? I study under the streetlights in our
slum. I'm a topper in my class, but no one comes to watch me receive my awards
on Prize Day. Who cares? I’m just a girl. What does it matter?
I rarely cry, for crying is useless; it only gives
you a headache and a blocked nose. It won’t change anything or make anyone
notice me or care—other than to get me belted to a bloody pulp by my mother—so
why bother? After all, I’m just a girl.
I don’t watch movies; I've never seen a movie in a
theatre in my whole life. However, I love reading books, especially those by
the famous British author Charles Dickens. I can empathize with his characters,
especially Oliver Twist and David Copperfield. The only problem is, these two
characters are boys . . . and I’m a girl. But the world of books provides a
perfect escape for me. I can find happiness there and relief from the mental
and physical agony and abuse I must face in the real world. But why would I
need to escape? I’m just a girl. I should be grateful.
I don’t have
many girlfriends, except for the few naked street urchins who run around the
Bandra Reclamation slum and urinate near the garbage bins. I love them, for
they love me for who I am . . . smelly, dark, and filthy me. However, I’m a bit
different from them, as I have a dream. I want to be a doctor and treat
patients. I love science and mathematics; they are the two subjects in which I
excel. But dreams are just that for me: dreams. After all, I’m just a girl.
You can read all about the exciting lives of Indian
women if you just read the Mumbai newspapers. We have so much to look forward
to:
- Rapes
- Molestation
- Eve
Teasing
- Dowry
Crises
- Bride
Burnings
- Female
Infanticide
- Female
Foeticide
The media has sensationalized these issues, and I
read all about these cases cover-to-cover under the streetlamp in the dead of
night. I wonder why people like reading the gory details about such atrocities.
Perhaps they don’t believe it’s true. Perhaps they don’t believe it can happen
to them.
But who am I to question these things? Who am I to dream
and hope for more than I’ve been given? Who am I? I’m just a girl.
Nirmala. The Mud Blossom. Crying out to your heart
. . .
Coming Soon on Amazon: NIRMALA: The Mud Blossom
Author: Fiza Pathan
Edited by: Susan Hughes http://myindependenteditor.com/
Cover Art: LLPIx Photography & Design http://www.llpix.com/
Image: Sharvari Rane licensed usage http://500px.com/Sharvari_Night/sets
English UK
Paperback
ISBN 978-1-5006031-1-3
5.25 x 8.0
Price: $ 5.99
102 pages
Kindle: Price: $ 2.99
KDP Select Prime Members/Matchbook
Copyright 2014 Fiza Pathan
Tuesday, 22 July 2014
Mono-live: How To Recover Passwords For The Pdf Files
Mono-live: How To Recover Passwords For The Pdf Files: We all used to read various kinds of journals and magazines online, but the main issues is that; they will come in only PDF formats most...
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