Thursday, July 22, 2010
Well tell you what guys,
It's just like hot fluffy rice,
Nice when it's hot,
But that's all it's got.
I spent my time well,
Before it all fell,
But how lucky!Ding! Went luck's bell!
"Happy Birthday Dad!" rang through the house,
No one missed it,
not even a mouse.
I was getting excited,
Deja Vu bited,
The World Cup started,
The players all darted.
But in the end Spain won,
My heart had immense fun,
Of course Spain were the gun,
They deserved it more than a tonne.
Oh but how could I forget?!
It was good old Shrek!
The last movie loomed,
My happiness boomed,
The conclusion was fantastic,
But not made of plastic!
Suddenly I thought,
My fun genes fought,
But it was true,
School was opening according to the crew.
Well I did what I wanted,
So there were only good memories that haunted,
But I like school,
It is there that everyone is cool.
Well I am at the the end of this poem,
I need to get goin',
Hope you were enjoyin'
Saturday, July 17, 2010
On this piece of paper,
Is something special.
It is my sadness,
It is my curiosity,
It is my way of conveying my emotions.
I ask my heart, my memories,
I have no power to ask my Dad;
I don't want tears.
Deep down my heart cries
Sadness will be promised to Dad,
I know my Dad,
And I know he is sad deep down.
I love him.
And I'm sure I would do the same if Grand Dad was here.
So I ask again,
Who was he?
Was he great, or bad?
Don't answer me,
For I know the truth,
The truth of him being great,
I love Dad,
And even if he is not here,
Why didn't I see him?
Has God no mercy?
Dad loved him did he not?
I regret having a useless brain.
I know he is here,
Somewhere in Dad's heart and mine,
But does Mum miss him as much?
Oh Lord, I want answers!
The millions of questions in my brain demand.
But I know and hate the fact,
The fact is...
It is too late.
(This poem was finished on the 28th of October, 2009 at 9:39p.m AEST)
“One day Niva's teacher hit her in class with a duster and the vice-principal made things worse by striking her with a bamboo stick. Niva was only 15 years of age and she was recently enrolled in Maryland Higher Secondary School. The humiliation the girl felt drove her to desperation and on 6th June she swallowed Metacide, a pesticide. She died a slow and agonising death six days later in hospital.”- This is the news published on Nepali Times, a fortnightly magazine.
Those are the words that I am very familiar to. Everyday in the newspapers back in my country Nepal have something like this as their cover story. This in Australia is called child cruelty and is against the law to commit.
Child Cruelty is an issue that is concerning everyone around the world. Let us take countries like my own for example. Back there, there are no laws preventing parents or teachers from beating their children, but in Australia these laws are in place.
Child Cruelty also refers to neglecting a child and not providing him or her with proper food and water. Child Cruelty in any form is inhuman and a charge is laid if you inflict unnecessary pain to the child. You are likely to face at least two years behind bars for any form of child cruelty. In Australia if anyone touches a child against the child’s will, they have committed a crime.
In Nepal, people believe punishing children is a way of making them scared to do something wrong and. There is a saying ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child.’ However, in my opinion it just slowly lowers the child’s self esteem which in no way whatsoever is a good thing to do.
But when we think it is an unlucky day here in a privileged country like Australia, let us think about children all around the world subjected to child cruelty.
(THIS SPEECH WAS AWARDED FIRST PLACE IN THE TOASTMASTERS INTERNATIONAL CLAYTON NORTH SPEECH CONTEST)
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Thank you for what you have done for the past eleven years and two months. You have always been there for me. I have all the good memories from when I was little. I also remember how I cried when you were going to Australia eight years ago. I have written you many letters for Mother's Day, but none has described how much I appreciate your love for me. You also taught me things I did't know. I remember you teaching to spell and write my full name. Your cooking is fantastic. I really miss the pancakes you used to make back in Nepal. I also thank you for the heaps of other things you did for me. And from the bottom of my heart I wish you a HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY.
But for me you are
I remember those days
When you cuddled me close
"Boy," you used to say "you are as brave as a soldier;"
"Come," you used to say,
"I will make you a flute."
You have a room in my heart,
Which shall ever last.
You are not here
But you are for me.
I remember your joy when I came to stay,
"BOY," you used to scream, "HERE AT LAST"
You broke my heart
when you said, "Boy, I think I don't have long."
But most of all I remember
That horrible moment
When I was sitting next to you.
"Boy," you said. "It's over."
And how you slumped back and closed your eyes, FOREVER.
(Written in memory of my deceased grandpa)
Monday, July 12, 2010
Once upon a time when I was a champion soccer star I was awarded a place in the Junior Soccer League Hall of Fame. And I have decided to finally share the story that got me to my dreams.
“Ok! Gather around, gather around!” our coach shouted. He was obviously in a great sense of excitement because we were somewhere that I thought we could reach. We were at the Local Under- 13 League Grand Final.
“Ok,” our coach started. “Today is the day we waited for. I know your fitness levels are high and it’s not very hard to clinch the trophy if you go by the rules. The uniforms – they are just perfect. Now all I want you to do is go out there and use the equipment like it should be used! Remember boys we are already ahead in the race.”
We all clapped and ran out to the oval with the sounds of cheering in our ears. If you couldn’t see only 123 people in the seats you would have thought it was an international game. Since I was captain I also gave everyone a talk on team spirit. I asked them to do their best and put their hard work from soccer practise into this one game.
No one was on the bench today and the blow which was delivered at half time was harsh. Neil’s ill health had given in and he had to stay out for the rest of the game. No team had scored but losing a player was not a very good sign.
We ran at the ball with all we could. My lungs felt like they would tear but I pushed myself. But even I collapsed when the other team scored with ten minutes remaining.
Everybody didn’t give up though. We still fought like tigers with all our skill. With 59 seconds to go I found myself face to face with the ball with another player. I looked up at the clock. Ten second remaining. Thinking that it was better to just take a shot than keep running, my foot made contact.
Everybody jumped on me. I had kicked that goal. The goalie missed it by inches I had brought it down to penalty shoot outs since extra time did not see anyone score.
It was pressure as it was the last shot at goal in the penalty shoot outs and I was taking the shot. The goalie was good and I didn’t know if I could stop a rematch being triggered. I looked at the ball and ran up to kick it. The ball went about a mile off target, my heart sank. Then the miracle happened. The ball suddenly curved and missed the goalie’s fingers. I had done it! And there is nothing like a hot dog after such a fierce battle!
I now remember the great feeling as I lifted the trophy!
(This short story was published in my School Mag in 2009)