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Why Ishithaa

Why Ishithaa
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A Fistful of Rose Petals

“Maaaaaaaa! Gueshh what I got” my little birdie chirped in her ever pleasing sing song voice. “Hmm.. what is it baby?” “Gueshh naaaa…” the birdie’s voice is gaining frequency the minute. She is every bit her father’s daughter – loving, raucous and edgy. Looking up at her from the book I am reading, see that her tiny little hand is all balled up into a tight fist and is outstretched towards me. “Is it a button?” She loves picking up these things from wherever she can. “No” “Hmm.. is it a marble?” “No…” “Then is it..’” “Never mind maa, I will show you” and she opens up her fist with a broad smile to show these precious petals from a rose flower, blood red in colour. I am at a loss at what to tell her. Do I tell her that a plant is a living being, and that she is not supposed to hurt another living thing? But how could - I - who kills cockroaches and mosquitoes, eats non vegetarian food – tell my daughter that it is wrong hurt another living be

Death

Water is the elixir of life – it is the reason life is, it is the reason life will be or will not be. This having said, think – do we give it the importance it deserves?     Do we actually take care to preserve water or its sources?   What might have caused the death of the river, which once used to flow full and enriched the civilization around us? Aren’t we too responsible for the plight of the river?