Cavity in my Soul

Welcome to my new blog face, braving the wintry air in the gorgeous mountains of Ladakh! The journey has been long and adventurous through the ocean of time, and now this traveler is virtually hiking up the himalayas. Hope you will enjoy the new place along with me. Button up your overcoat, lace up your boots, and let’s talk about things that we can change. Little things that we can work on around the bigger things we cannot.

Every child: free to explore, learn, and choose!

It is heart-breaking when people use children as instruments of change, using their vulnerability, need, or appearance to their advantage. Example: via begging, terrorism, and on the other extreme, even becoming a singer or a child actor too early in life.

It is the purpose that defines the strength or weakness of the adult choice. If the purpose is selfish, twisted, or against the nature of the child, then the choice is bad, to put it in simple words.

One writes in simple english, hoping the word gets read by children somewhere. They may not know the languages I know, but I pass the word around, wherever I can in unofficial settings, even when traveling. I will tell of three such interactions in the following days.

Using public transport, walks, or a single unit auto is the best way to interact with locals, who need ‘translation’ of their struggles with the modern, unreal world. We can be the conveyor of meaning to their life. One person a day, till it becomes habit.

It is the simple and motivated who move, immigrate. For work. For money. And then they meet people who will mock them or take advantage of their new-ness in town. For, when in this short-term gullible phase, as they learn their way around town, struggling to make ends meet, they will stumble and fall, learn, and eventually survive, or become alienated, disenfranchised.

That is the point, when that child or the new adult is most susceptible to frustration, anger, and crime. When the educated city dwellers turn a blind eye to such survivors, maybe even homeless street survivors, or border villages, is when the crime promoters move in and pick them up, buying their dreams, dirt cheap.

Or giving them a gun. Where the money or weapon comes from, is a whole different game.

For now, I’ll close with a cavity in my soul.


  1. The essence of what these children’s lives represent is fictionalised in e📖@
  2. Sirius Black will be back with “W🐾F Bytes ‘n’ News” will be once a week, every Sunday. Stay tuned.


via Daily Prompt: Cavity


via Daily Prompt: Conveyor




2 thoughts on “Cavity in my Soul

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