AFS - Another Fat Student

I'm kidding.. AFS isn't Another Fat Student.. It is just AFS. Another Fat Student is the effect of AFS on it exchange students :P

For me, AFS has not just been an organization, but a constantly encouraging family that I love the most in this world! AFS has played a major role in most of the memorable experiences of my life. This year, as we celebrate 100 years of AFS.. I wish for it to change many more lives and make many more families and students happy. This world is indeed a huge family, Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam!

Here are some memories I have with AFS...

Wondering what AFS is? And how I became a part of it? Watch this video :)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0g1kfeQZwEg

Now, my Kizuna (Japanese Short Term Exchange Program) experience has already been shared.. But, I have few more words to how it still keeps changing my life for better good.. Keep looking for that update ;)

The most recent and one of the best experiences I have had with AFS India is YASC-AFS program organized in Kakelao, Jodhpur in the month of August. YASC stands for Yale Alumni Service Corps, an organization that serves the community and AFS, is just AFS! The details of the program have been covered by Isadora Italia in her article.. http://world.yale.edu/news/yale-alumni-service-corps-engages-india.

And my personal feelings about it couldn't be more precise than what is mentioned below..

In the words of Puneet Batra, “The first week back was life as usual physically, but mentally, I wasn’t back yet”. These simple words probably sum it all. Life changed for each person involved, after the Community Service Project in Kakelao. What began as a bunch of people wanting to help and give back to the society ended up as one big family, working tirelessly for bringing the smallest change they could in the village of Kakelao. “Community Service Project”, the words itself bring an enormous responsibility with it. But what we don’t realize is that it’s not a one-way road where only we do something for the less privileged but it’s a process by which we earn more knowledge about the world; both around and within us. It is a spiritual drive that travels into the innermost parts of our conscious, leaving us with a sense of satisfaction. Well, Kakelao not only gifted us with such satisfaction but also a huge bag of memories that is capable of bringing a smile on our faces at any point of time.

Thank you for reading this post.. Keep checking the blog for more updates about the same! :)

Poetry in the Train

It has been quite a long time that I haven't posed anything here.. I wrote lot of exams during this time span but I missed writing the blog.. And so while traveling to Delhi last week, I put my pen to work and here's the result.. Two poems!  One for all the love struck couples around and another for the feminists in my life.

 

Have you ever?
Have you ever felt love so deep,
Tough to share, tougher to keep?
Have you ever loved someone so bad,
You feel so crazy, you feel so mad?
Have you ever been so lost in love,
Out on the open, like a free dove?
Have you ever known how love heals,
Your time, your attention, all it steals.
Have you ever felt what this love does?
Deeper & deeper, you it lures.
Have you ever felt the magic happen?
Is love your drug or just a weapon?
Does love make you feel happy & strong?
That you always want to go a li'l long.
Does love feel like a soothing song?
Without which you know things are wrong.
Does love teach you to love or hate?
Or just leave your life in the hands of fate?
Does love have some boundaries built,
Is it pleasure or is it guilt?
Does love give you hope & strength?
Courage to cross the breadth & length.
Does love make you wanna shout out loud?
That you can only see your love in the crowd.
What do I now say about this wonderful feeling?
Is it healing or is it killing?
No matter what it does or results into,
Love will happen, it is meant to.

The woman

She was born, a burden to them,
It was her fate, they won't give a damn.
"Lucky I didn't kill her", her father said,
She wasn't born to be loved & cared.
Her mother cried on seeing her face,
Yet another girl would follow the trace,
No sweets were shared, no joyful cheers,
She was born among anger & tears.
She grew up as the unwanted child,
In hatred & fear, her childhood died.
Come youth with dreams anew,
It wasn't getting better, she already knew.
Right on the nib of a sharp sword,
No tune of guitar played any chord,
Her eyes opened then to the world around,
And nothing she did, but only frowned.
A girl was raped, a woman killed,
Another's life with torture filled,
One was blamed for clothes quite short,
Another burnt in a closed up fort.
One was sold in the area red,
Paid for all the clothes she shred,
They touched her, kissed her & then paid,
Never seen in day, but at night they stayed.
No school could she ever see,
Kitchen was where she was meant to be,
Enclosed in a case of crystal glass,
Left at the mercy of all people crass.
She saw the torture, she saw the pain,
She saw how women were used for gain,
Watching all this, she did but scorn,
Probably that's why "they" never wanted her born!