What is worse, the fear of being attacked or the guilt of being safe? Numbness. It feels numb to live with a broken heart in a broken country that no longer cares. When just kilometres away, we are calculatedly butchered, classrooms of "liberatory education" still resound with lectures, tests, fests and talks with an eerie normalcy. Everybody laughs, jokes, eats, dances, travels and continues this monotonous cycle. From above the metro platforms in our area, the city behaves as if it's perfectly fine. And I don't know what is worse, the fear of being attacked or the guilt of being safe. The guilt of being able to at least temporarily laugh and eat food and erase the violence from my head, the guilt of being able to respond positively to frantic calls from my family who tells me not to go out anymore. The guilt of having a voice that is no longer able to speak. And I dont even know if this makes sense because I wanted to write this in polished poetic language. But I am overcome with the guilt of making our struggles a subject of appreciation. Our struggles aren't to be romanticised, the women of Shaheen Bagh aren't to be idolised for their "beautiful protest" and our movements aren't to be called second independence struggles. We are just existing and fighting for that right to exist. And that isn't a struggle to be appreciated. But just a reflection of how far we've been forced to come. I am writing this because I dont know what to do with this guilt of normalcy. If at all you can do something, please tear away this normalcy. Thank you.
I touched Principal
A news about my blog was given in Indian Express news paper. It was on 8 th September, the day my school was reopened. It was a nice day I went to school with the news paper. I showed it to my friends .All of them congratulated me . I showed it to Roshan, he said ‘ it might be some other child in your same name ’, I said that the picture which I drew during the ART period was there in the news paper When the bell rang, I showed it to my class teacher. She congratulated me she then passed the news paper to so many teachers. Then some how it got in my headmistress ’ s hands. After some time my class teacher told me that my headmistress called me. I thought it was to scold me. Iwas really scared. When I entered the room and went near her the teacher took my hand and congratulated. She was very happy T Then our Headmistress took me near my principal. We got inside the room. Our Father was also there. She showed the paper to them and introduced me to ...
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