Many parents live with the comforting belief that their children are safe, innocent, and far from the destructive grip of the world and technology. They assume, “My child would never do such things.” But in truth, this is not always the case. Today’s world is changing fast — and hiding behind this false comfort can be dangerous. Some parents think the best way to protect their children is by scaring them. “Don’t eat chops, you’ll go bald,” or “If I see you with a phone, I’ll beat you.” These methods don’t protect the child — they simply teach the child to lie, to hide, and to explore things secretly. I have personally seen this in one of my relatives. The mother proudly says, “My son is innocent.” Yes, he may be — but he is also immature. He doesn’t even know the difference between right and wrong. That is not innocence — that is lack of guidance. Parents need to mature their children, not just protect them. They should show what is wrong and explain why it’s wrong. And mor...
i sat alone and watched the rain it felt like someone knew my pain the walls were quiet, the lights were low i had no place i had to go my phone was dead, my smile was fake i laughed at times just for their sake they passed me by, they called me strong but deep inside, they had it wrong
No one heard me... though I cried, They just smiled and walked beside. But never once looked in my eyes— Where whole worlds burned, where dream-light lies. They called my voice a foolish sound, A leaf that falls and hits no ground. “Be quiet, read, be just like them,” They said, and shut the truth again. They could not see the skies I drew— Not painted blue, but endless too. While they made homes of brick and fear, I built my world from broken years. They told me, “Stop. You dream too far.” But how could I? I was the star. They mocked the roads I dared to climb, But never once asked, “Is he fine?” I smiled through pain and held my fire, Even when tired, even when dire. Their words were stones, but I stayed still, With bleeding hands, I climbed my hill. Now… their sons work where I lead, Their daughters plant the dreams I seed. They clap, they cheer, they shake my hand, But once, they wouldn’t let me stand. Their pride is loud—but memory stays: The nights...
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