Category: article

Can we eliminate child labour? Though it is a desirable goal, the fact remains that in the given Socio-economic scenario that is prevalent in our country, it is virtually impossible to do away with child labour. One cannot dispute the fact that employers exploit children by paying them much less than what they would pay to an adult and the future of the working children is ruined as they are not able to attend schools and get educated for a better future.

But when one considers the economic compulsions of the families which force the children to work, one will be compelled to admit that elimination of child labour will be a distant dream unless the socio-economic status of these families is improved.

Realizing the harm caused by child labour, the Indian Goverment makes laws to protect children from exploitation at work and to improve their working conditions. Besides, a comprehensive law called Child Labour Act 1986, was promulgated to prohibit employment of children in certain hazardous occupations and processes.

In 1987, the Indian Government formulated National Policy on Child Labour to protect the interests of children and focus on general development programmes for the benefit of children. As a part of this policy National Child Labour Projects had been set up in different parts of the country to rehabilitate child labour. Under these projects,special schools are established to provide non-formal education,vocational training, supplementary nutrition, etc. to children who are withdrawn from employment.

Through elimination of child labour is an impossible task in the current socio-economic scenario, the Indian government is committed to the task of ensuring that no child remains illiterate, hungry and without medical care. When this ideal situation will be achieved is a million dollar question.

Student: Tushar Bhure

Extremely interesting indeed,

Are cases of narcotic drugs;

But even they get horribly boring,

When the arguing advocate bugs…

While the utterly monotonous advocates,

Go from bad to worse;

I feel it immensely profitable,

To dedicate to ganja, a verse…

Let me tell you earnestly a very vital fact,

Ganja is actually defined in the NDPS Act.

It means, of the cannabis plant, the fruiting or flowering tops,

But if you have only seeds or leaves, don’t worry about the cops…

In the event you have only its leaves, stalks or seeds,

Seek the protection of s. 2(iii)(b) for your wonderful deeds!

The Rajasthan and Kerala High Courts with the definition seem fine,

Even the Hon’ble Supreme Court nodded its approval, in early 2009…

But these other things abovementioned, make up the plant of cannabis,

You of course can be punished then, for its cultivation, that is…

While for having cannabis (hemp), you shall face a sentence,

The mere possession of Bhang leaves is decidedly not an offence!

To the cops – In case you seize alleged ganja for example,

Forget not to send to a chemical analyst, a neatly sealed sample…

When your possession of ganja is proved beyond reasonable doubt,

Behind the bars you go vide ss. 8/20 NDPS Act that you did flout…

So depressingly bored I was,

Sitting in this courtroom;

My mind was really tortured,

Submerging steadily in gloom…

But I am, after this poetic break, so euphoric and full of bliss,

Hell! NOW I know why so many take to cannabis!

Student: Manali Gogate

Photography literally means art or process of taking photos. It is an art which is entirely different from other forms of art. Anyone can take a photograph, but it takes the right person to take the right photo at the right moment and when incredible pictures are born, then we say its photography. For me, photography is a miraculous opportunity to capture and remember some glorious moments of life which cannot be recaptured later. Sensational photographs are tangible ones.

Creativity is the mother of photography; good photographs are born from creativity. There are millions and millions of photographs around us that give us pleasure, short-lived or perennial. It’s always blissful to watch ourselves being portrayed in vivid expressions. Camera is the third eye of a photographer. It’s totally different from the natural eyes. It is packed with something unique and magical which never lost and enables the photographer to produce that final piece of art, the PHOTO.

To a photographer four things are of the utmost importance.

First – TIMING which is in fact very much necessary for a photo because the perfect timing produces the perfect photograph. Second-AMBIENCE , the real beauty of photo lies in its ambience because it decides how a photo should be. Third -LUCK , it may sound weird but it is a fact that even professional photographers agree that luck plays a major role. To capture that special moment, that rare scene, luck is needed. Fourth -PATIENCE, it is the most needed trait of a good photographer. To be the best patience is the key.

Photography can be considered in different ways, as job, as a social crusade, as a hobby- it all depends on the person. The real problem is that photography is a field that is not popular because it is not lucrative. Only those people who are interested are in this field, because of their passion for this art. Another fact is that the field has never experienced a stampede from job seekers to date and that’s one of the reasons why no one really knows the real beauty behind photography.

Student: Amarish M .S.

Even as the sudden idea of leaving forever and not returning felt good, it didn’t bring the complete sway of relief that she longed to soar away with. She had heard often enough of the feeling called liberation except now she waited for her definition of it.

It had been terrific, she had been happy. She did things and they knew who it was for. Words were abundant, even though she could have done without them.  He was beyond the representation of a handsome saviour and she fit into his world like a dream. It was so close to perfect, she had never had the time to decide what she’d do if it stopped making sense someday. It was just not imminent. And when exactly did this happen? Was it when she had stopped waiting for him? Or that one time when she asked him to let her be? Or was the cognizance of her weakening conviction for everything she had once stood for, the tipping point? When did he cease to be the liberator and became everything except that?

She didn’t pretend to know the answers.

The uncertainty of the first few days, the deliriousness she would experience each time he was around, the efforts she would go through for looking perfect, and all these thoughts made her double up with resentment. Her mind kept replaying for her the times she would unthinkingly dismiss every other plan to sit and just endlessly think about him. He loved her and she knew that alright. He would every now and then appreciate her a little less but he knew how to more than make up for it when he eventually did. He kept her preoccupied. He made her care less about every other thing she had previously been engaged with. And slowly he became everything. He became what defined her and her life. . It wasn’t so much about who or how he was as it were about what he had altered her to become.

It somehow didn’t seem right anymore. Was it actually that beautiful before or had she been blinded by love, as they say.

Leaving would mean she didn’t have the courage to face things she had forged herself. To let something grow infinitely and provide for every tad of its creation only to turn around and find a tumour. An inane growth fashioned with pointless memories and unworthy sacrifices. Two faces of a coin? Or that plants rot with over sprinkling of water?

Excess of everything? Harmful. Who didn’t know that? But the simplest of things elude us when we need wisdom the most. Not too long ago, she had mistook it to be a galactic occurrence, for its not every day that two wandering souls fit into each other with a clank loud enough for the heads to turn and marvel at the aura, the beauty and the sheer electricity. She was too dazzled to notice others. She was too elated to know what she knew now; the world was full of people like her. And now she stood gobsmacked at a distance to despairingly watch her thunder stolen. She, for the want of her dignity, would put up an impervious, unrattled front for God knows how long. But, need I tell you that there’s really no ground beneath her feet?

Student: Khawla Zainab