My teacher got hit by a bus. Over and over again. In my head.

I have no knowledge in terms of becoming a teacher. I don't know how to teach a class. I've never even tried helping my younger siblings with their math homework. But I know how to differentiate between a good human being and a bad one.

We all have had that one teacher who we have imagined getting hit by trucks or eaten alive by a tiger or getting pushed onto railway tracks. But that's just it. We imagine yelling at them , telling them what we think of them, telling them they suck at their profession, but all we can do is imagine.
The hierach goes like this - principal > teacher > student. Isn't that strange ? We pay the institution , the institution is focused and centered on us but we're at the bottom of the pyramid. We can't speak up when something goes wrong, so I'm writing this hoping and praying that a teacher like that read this.

Dear Sir/Ma'am,
                            You are a terrible humanbeing and I hope you get Alzheimers soon and choke on your own spit.
You have been given an immense amount of power by our education system and you are abusing it. Ridculing and embaressing your students makes you a shitty person and an even worse teacher.
Your immaturity level is astounding and lower than my grades (just so you have a vague idea)
Denying everything you did to my mother will not change the past.

You're ugly and I'd rather stare at an old mans hairy asshole covered in shit.

Yours Unfaithfully,
Student.

Nani (incomplete post)

My heart skipped a beat when I saw the wind push the haldi powder out of my fingertips and onto her nose, and that's when reality kicked in..
It wouldn't matter , if the haldi powder fell onto her nose..she was dead..
I then put the kumkum onto my finger and I aimed to put it directly onto all the powder that was already there so I wouldn't have to make contact with her skin, untill my finger slipped.
But it didn't feel weird , it felt like touching another person but it was so hard to comprehend that the body wasn't the person.
I think I need to come to peace with the fact that I will never be at peace with the thought of her not existing.

6 Reasons Why It's Okay to Fart in Public.

1.’You have a fart that can cure cancer.’

Need a new pickup line? Instead of using the classic ‘You have a smile that can cure cancer,’ replace smile with fart because that way you won’t even be lying.

A new study suggests that smelling farts (hydrogen sulphide) could prevent mitochondria damage which in-turn prevents diseases and even cancer. So next time, be a good citizen and let it rip!

2. It tests relationships at a young age.

If your boyfriend/ girlfriend breaks up with you after you either fart, burp or vomit around them, then you know the relationship was never worth it. If they can’t handle your basic bodily functions they definitely won’t be there for you to sniff their farts when you get cancer.

3. You can set a fart on fire.

Farts contain flammable gases like methane and hydrogen and hence can be set on fire. As fun as it sounds, I do not recommend people to try it at home but there are plenty of videos online and if you’re a professional performer why not put up a show and set a couple of them on fire to amuse a crowd.

4. It sets off the giggle alarm.

Personally I’ve giggled every time someone farted in public so don’t look at it as a public embarrassment but as a good deed you just did for society, so spread the happiness!

5. Measure of comfort

It shows people how comfortable you are around them and can often be flattering to your partner.

6. Stop the unnecessary stress

Farting in public is viewed as a faux pas and often more for women than for men. If you want to promote feminism let those around you fart and fart yourself. There are bigger problems you’ll have to face in life and memories of farts fade eventually.

Foreigners and India.

Foreign tourists heading to india.

Everytime I get stared at for wearing short shorts on the roads I never have the bravery to defend myself. The way I deal with this is by wearing short shorts again and again day after day , it scares me but it encourages me..

Okay so a lot of people degraded this article saying it made india look bad infront of foreign countries.. here is my opinion.

Almost EVERY SINGLE TIME that I've seen a young foreigner woman in india I have always seen an indian man either 'passing lines' or staring and giggling with his friends and making lewd gestures at them or trying to chat them up and take them away. And I find it disgusting to the pit of my stomach and I feel worse because I feel helpless and everytime I go home I just keep thinking about how I never did anything because I'm a coward.

It's not like I haven't noticed a good looking foreigner man and pointed him out to my friends. I have. But I'd never try to make the man feel uncomfortable or afraid. There's a difference between complimenting and eve teasing, I feel annoyed that these men drive foreigners away from the beauty of my country.

Offcourse the articles title isn't a 100 percent appropriate as the article only warns the foreign countries women of being safe, so the title is a bit too harsh and it does make it seem like rapes only take place in india hence india is ment to be feared but the article isn't as harsh.
Also ,no where does it say that they shouldn't visit india and personally I wouldn't travel alone at night in any unfamiliar country so it does state the obvious in some ways.

If you've ever eve teased a woman and you're reading this - India is ashamed of you.

Sincerly,
An annoyed frightened Indian woman.

I want to be a boy.

All youngsters are currently in that phase of annoyance, annoyance with patriarchy , annoyed with the way women are treated.

I think I'm past that annoyed phase. I'm in the cry for help phase.

I'm in the selfish phase.

I want to be a boy.

For my own happiness. So my mom doesn't call me every hour that I'm out of the house wondering if I'm alive or if I've been raped. I want to be able to walk down a street without feeling like I'm being stared at. I want to be able to have fun, and I don't want my gender to be a barrier.

I'm past the stage where I want to wear whatever clothes I want , I want to LIVE the way boys do.

I want to trust everyone around me , I don't want to be suspicious of random people.

I want an easier life. I want to be a boy.

My perfect family

My perfect family has a mother , she's not drop dead gorgeous , but that's what makes her beautiful.
Home is comfort and she is comfort , her smile , her love , and the way she smells , like nothing can ever be too bad.
My father plays football with me and games with me , takes me on piggy backs , we tease my mother together and she affectionately scolds us.
In this perfect family they both turns being a pillar for eachother , they don't both lean on eachother, instead they comfort one and another and they're there for eachother.
They're my parents , they're permanent , and they're imperfectly perfect , they remind me that I'm perfect and that my lifes perfect and that I'm happy. I'm always secure , because no matter what goes wrong I know I have them and that's all I need.
That is my perfect family. I wish it existed.

The Art of Making Coffins.

I like art that has powerful emotions.

I'd like to make a coffin someday. It's more lie art for myself than others because no one pays attention to it much since they're in mourning.

I'd like to first research on the person and make ones to fit their personalities. Really tiny ones for the people with OCD and anxiety disorders, just so they can feel safe, really large ones for the big and bold ones just so that every bit of their personality can fit in.

And for the over- achiever who lived a long and fruitful life , I'd carve each anecdote and achievement on the sides, contrasting images for the moody ones and a sunset for the saints.

I'd make heavy ones for the suicide victims and light ones for the teenager who died while trying to 'live on the edge'

The plainest ones would be for the babies who were born dead, they didn't get a chance to develop a personality and they shouldn't need to be remembered. The saddest of incidents should be forgotten.

No tomb stones should be built after they're buried. No one should know where my coffins are, the dead shouldn't be associated with physical places, they should only exist in memories.

I'd like my coffins very much, because they'd mean a lot, to just me.