Name-calling kills

Name calling can be fun as long as it not happening to you.  Name calling can be far venomous than spanking-at times.  But again, spanking has propensity to name calling.  Thus spanking can never rule out name calling.

 Spanking is dinosaurs-buried into the dust. Sometimes I wonder whether people who casually pile on to someone has any idea that while name calling, they might be causing permanent indentation with regard to their self esteem-with regard to their way of life.   

I may be wrong but my feeling is that among our part of the world name calling is being taken lightly especially by those who are fond of it.  Perhaps our social mindset is such that we tend to enjoy and appreciate those people who resort to name calling; in fact these people are reckoned as witty and smart among their circle. 

Here, I am not talking about those provocative political slanders and blame game nor am I talking about those pet names we Bhutanese have-nor those playful comments that we pass on while playing khuru or archery... 

Name calling which I am talking about is mostly associated with somebody’s physical looks-with somebody's intelligence –with somebody's caste and creed and that too-you do it before a huge crowd.  And such persistent name calling is indeed a sign of intrusion in somebody’s life-it's a sign of dominance-At times, it's sign of communalism.

Name calling is not strict advising-it is not even scolding-not teasing-not some laughter comedy show where people hold their belly and laugh to death at somebody’s mockery.

It’s such a damn cheap act. Let us stop it when someone says, “It’s enough-please!”

People who are victimized by such act are dead man.  Just imagine his psychological health- when he/she is mentally disturbed what can we expect from him.  If he is student-then school is a hell-he will withdraw from the crowd-poor performance in academics and timid participation in co-curricular activities-prone to drugs and suicide.  

Kids today are emotionally sensitive and emotionally weak too-what you might have causally remarked might just turn out to be a pathetic name-calling. 

School Examination and Its Intelligence

I still wonder whether an intelligence of kid can be judge within that design of three hour; perhaps the larger question is-what is intelligence in the first place? Especially in school arena-how do we define intelligence of a child?  If the parameters are narrowed to those prescribed text books and to some Physical and health education (co-curricular activities) to define intelligence then-are we going in direct direction?  What could be the generally accepted parameters to see a child’s intelligence? Exam? However, the general notion is that anyone who excels in his academic examination is believed to be an intelligent kid as he/she meets all the book oriented expectation laid by concern stakeholders.  Is the existing mode of assessing a kid’s intelligence is only means?  Justifying whether the kid is intelligent or not within three hours examination seems bizarre and unfair at times.

Let’s not get technical and jump into some theories to define intelligence-I feel that somewhere we are leaving that void unfilled while moderating a kid’s intelligence because human’s intelligence is way beyond man’s comprehension.  People use the lens of cognitive, psycho-motor and affective criterion and that too narrowed down to academic aspects.   Sadly, we have a setting where kid has to go through two to three rigorous hours  of writing if he/she wants to prove his/her intelligence-and let’s not discuss about the stress and anxiety it brings to them. 

I have kid in my class-he is quite a tarzan in almost all the subjects that he learns-any wise man can be swift to judge him as not being  intelligent but  when he strums the guitar, his exhibition of playing guitar will blow your mind away-the way he has honed his skills of playing guitar display quite a intelligence.  Therefore, I firmly believe-intelligence can never be confined to one particular discipline. 

Kids need a right platform to hone their intelligence in their choice of discipline ranging from sports, art, music…  simply branding a kid  “Stupid” on basis of academic performance can be naïve and ignorant on our part. Kids need motivation only in their field of choice where they can polish their physical and mental skills. 

People say that it’s our lack of generating motivation in learners to do well in their studies.  I tell you-can you make a lion to eat grass out of sheer motivation? Lets us not impose and enforce rather lets loosen them to exhibit their intelligence through their choice of discipline from young age.  A kid who loves to sing knows that if he pursues his dreams-he is bound to struggle because there is no assurance in such field-moreover, the social belief is such that we have to study to get government.  By the time when he reaches his middle school-all his love for singing will be gone as he prepares for his inevitable disaster. Identifying potentiality apart from academic and providing a platform from young age to realize his wishful dream is duty of all people around that particular kid. 

It is indeed sad to see kid enduring the physical and psychological brunt and of course societal pressure in the name of examination.

As a parent, I would not be much disturbed even if my son is not able to do well in his academics as long as he has doing something meaningful in other arenas away from academic culture.  Exam is opportunity for Mr. A & B but for Mr. C & D, it is a nightmare.   Perhaps-intelligence can never be judge through examination…

You are a FIGHTER!

Dreams lead to hope-hope leads to belief and belief leads to perseverance-and perseverance leads to (not necessarily to success) but to realization-realization that you are a FIGHTER.     You stood an eye to eye against this fighter, this so called indomitable life. I can still remember…

You have not been a champion, you have not been a leader, you have not been a hero-but one thing I know, you have been one heck of fighter-a fighter who gets up every time when life spatters you down- hard.

 I can still remember… “Give me more! That’s what you got huh?”  Crippled but still you have the guts-you hobble over and over again to stand- to look straight in his eyes.  In sheer frustration, life kicks you harder-and you stumble down-again to get back-up with a smirk on your face-“More! More!”  You look in his eyes.

“Rat! You rat! I can finish you off just like that! You better dance when I tell you to-you are one cheap slave-so do as I say…”  life tells that you are a rat-and there you are bendy-limping but still standing tall before him. “Should I throw you depression-disappointments-loneliness-confusion-diseases-and death -do you want me to inflict all these upon you? Do you want me to crush you huh?” 

“Ha! Ha! Ha...” You simply keep on laughing-your eyes still fixed at him.

  Life’s patience runs thin and he walks to you, grabs you by your collar and gives you a frantic shake-then sighing with irritation, he whispers, “You are a loser! I pity upon you!  Now admit your defeat.” 

  

You try to pull off his hard hands-he tightens-constricts harder as you shake frantically to free yourself. You are still limping but still standing.

I can see-you get on his nerves, now with his Ging Tsholing like face; he grabs you close to his ugly face and yells, “Look at you-you have nothing!  Give-up boy! You will never make it through! -Understand?”  Then, shuddering his big black nose in utter anger, he looks in my eyes and yells again, “You are a loser! Loser!” Those flashy fangs go up and down.

Then you pushed him hard-so hard that he almost falls backward but he has his grip around your neck.  He tightens his grip from behind and hisses close to your ears again, “Huh! Now move and you are dead!”

“KILL ME! KILL ME! IF YOU CAN! BUT I TELL YOU-YOU  CANNOT KILL MY FREE SPIRIT-MY BELIEFS BECAUSE- I AM A FIGHTER!-I AM A FIGHTER!”

I still ponder today- but -If success was to be measured with realization, many would falter but not you my friend-definitely not you…because you are indeed a fighter!

Ghost Wind

I saw the mud mopped road to dark sleepy woods

Amid the giggling air-I saw this ghostly wind winding wildly with the willows

Beneath his heavy boots-crunching of oak leaves echoed pain

Whistling devilishly at every snoring trees

He started snarling-gnawing like mad bull dog

Then ripping! Slashing!

His cold blooded fangs run deep into the blood

Puffing pain and poison-All looked tattered

Cold! Cold! The souls fell one by one

Then turning his ferocious face at me

He opened his red blood stained arms

“Come here!” he hollowed deep

His blood dripping fingers calling me

Standing still I was scared to step

Trembling I begged, “Mercy! Mercy! I am yours-please!”

Clasping his red hands behind his back

He turned far deep into the woods laughing-

“I don’t kill a dead man!”