Prostitution ...The Only World She Knows

They say prostitution is a matter of choice, they say it’s not hard to say no, but tell that to the woman who was forced into it by her parents, tell that to the child who was abandoned and needed food to eat, tell that to the young girl that nobody loved and they’d ask you where did the matter of choice really come in? People should turn away from the blind notion that there are two types of prostitution, voluntary and involuntary.
Despite chauvinistic belief spurred by male ignorance, women do not want to be treated like objects, they do not wanted to be sold, used, controlled or degraded. What human being doesn’t want love, respect and dignity? Is it really possible to divorce oneself from their body and to feel nothing at all? The choice here is between running into a brick wall or equally hard place...
Yes, woman have a right to do what they want with their bodies, we live in a generation where male domination is almost diminished, so why would a woman want the privilege of being in control of their physical self, just to throw it away in the name of money?
There are woman within societies who convince themselves that prostitution is a matter of choice. They believe that they have made the decision to sell their bodies, maybe so they feel themselves to be in control of some aspect of their lives. It is their decision how to go about their lives, and we are no one to call them criminals. Legalizing prostitution might be something men might be overjoyed about, but for women, it is about being treated with respect, being given the benefits of a working class girl and not cast in the same category as a felon.
A lot of women are driven into prostitution by poverty; a lot of parents are to be blamed for poor parenting. If it were possible for a girl or woman to live a comfortable, secure life, be loved and independent, would she really turn to prostitution? Instead of chasing after women linked to the profession, the people in charge need to go after men who prowl the streets, looking for women to abuse and rape, they need to corner parents who lead their children into such situations, be it through child abuse or neglect. Pimps who force woman into prostitution by beating them and threatening them should be sentenced for life, instead of the innocent women led on by such men.
Prostitution is too ugly a world for a beautiful woman to want to be in, it is a daily series of force, beating, threats and abuse. No 14 year old girl decides to be a prostitute of her own will, they see no other option. She won’t walk on the roads and lay down a price for herself, she is coerced by others. She is promised security, stability, attention and maybe even love. She is a victim not a criminal.

Stop convincing yourself that prostitution is a choice. Prostitution for some is inevitable, Ignorance is a CHOICE.

There's No Choice Involved.

A Story To Be Continued....

The flaming beauty in her eyes, that gave one chills if he ever looked at her, hid a story of more than just a lover lost. It spoke more of a broken heart, or a worn down life. It spoke of the struggle she survived. It spoke of a heroic woman, whose strength knew no boundaries. She stood up for the world, for righteousness and ethics. She made sacrifices to be where she was, because she knew she deserved it. She was with a calloused heart but its rhythm was perfect, its ability to love was un-dead.

She caught the eye of every passerby, with those soulful eyes, and genuine smile. Everyone wanted to know her, to take care of her... but she’d been too hurt to let someone in again. She stood strong, yes, but she was unwilling to make the same mistakes again. A glimmer of exhaustion shown on her face was the tip of the ice-berg. Beyond the surface was a tired woman just longing for the joys of stability in life? She didn’t dare trust again, but she showed great love and affection for those close to her. Her daughter was the joy of her life and she would run to the ends of the world for her, because she knew it was her daughter who would carry the legacy of her father. She knew that Kayla was all that was left of him. In her was her love, her pride, her joy, her laughter, her fun. Only heavens knew what she’d do without her. Losing one person she loved was hard enough. Even at only 6, Kayla was exactly like her father, and sometimes she had to work hard not to reveal the tears of longing for the man who was her whole life. Her anguish and desperation at not having him next to her would not affect her love for her daughter. She knew if he was around, he would want the best for his daughter and she wanted to make sure that happened. Kayla would never know the pain her mother felt at looking at the hazel eyes, cheeky smile and mischievous look that so defined her father.
Every night, after tucking Kayla into bed, she cried for him, waiting on the stars for her wish, for her life to begin from where it started.
She wouldn’t change a thing, no she would do it all over again but to live those moments with her love once more, what she wouldn’t give? She waited and waited, with only her loneliness surrounding her, and silence being a deafening factor all through the night. She wanted to scream, she wanted to fight, demand for him back, but he was gone.

She had to stay strong, for Kayla... for people who looked up to her, because she was a hero now. She was what everyone longed to be...She stood up for the weak, she made a difference even though it cost her everything because she wanted the world to know that just two people could change the world. She fought through every battle, every trial thrown her way, she held her head up high and even in his death she did not stumble.

She watched them carry him away, body cold as ice... the mischievous look in his eyes quelled to serenity and she wanted to break down but she couldn’t. He didn’t die in vain, she would life for him. To show the world that she could survive on merely his memory.

The strength of a woman, of a wife and a mother cannot be competed with. There is nothing stronger that she is. A woman is... She will live through the hurricanes, tornado’s, cyclones of life yet come on stronger than she was before because more than anything... she is a woman.

Megan Fox...

Avril Lavigne - ColorPencils...

Sheldon Cooper

My Little Notes

Everyday, for the next few days I will write a little note to someone special.
Only that person will know who they are, and those close to me can take a guess.
Each day I will cherish the memories Ive had, and pay tribute to those who played a major role in my life, people who made me who I am


Day One : The One I Miss The Most

School days were a pain. I hated studying and hated life, but thinking back on those times they weren't to bad. I had people next to me who made life worthwhile.

You were one of them . Company in class, partners in basketball games, someone to show me that shopping, wasn't really that bad a thing. It's been more than 2 years, I haven't seen your face, and it's not this sappy cheesy thing where I can;t live without old friends, but distance has shown me who truly had an impact on my life. I know that I'd do anything to go back for another one of those days, where we did nothing but hang out at malls, make fun of people and talk about school days.
People disagree, people have fights, but for some bizarre reason, I dont remember us having any issues like that. We didn't even fight over silly things like football or cricket teams, music choices or even movie preferences. Maybe I just don't remember the bad things anymore, or maybe there was no bad moments.
The game was United was probably one of the best days of my life, maybe its because I miss you , maybe its because I miss Liverpool winning so much... But everytime I watch a major football game, I wish I was back there.
Everytime I see a Cosmo , or a tequila shot, I don't feel the same . Back then it was about having fun, now all it is, is a glass of alcohol that doesnt really do much for me.

There's so much I wish I could share with you today, I wish you could meet the love of my life, or watch the final Harry Potter with me. I wish you were there when we bought Jazz home, or when Sylvie died. Shopping doesn't feel the same, neither does parties. Great books are incomplete without someone to discuss it with and my music choice has just dulled without someone who finds some of the most awesome music out there.
Yes, I have made great friends here, but none I get along with as much as I did with the people back in Dubai. No one that I have known for half my life. No one who knows my mood swings, how easily I get upset, how difficult some memories of my past are, how shy I can be at times, How football crazy I am. No one truly understands it anymore. I know traditionally, I should go on thanking you for being there, being a friend etc, but seriously? Thats not going to happen.
I know you don't need all that, so all I'm gonna say for now is what you read in the next few lines...



What today's note is about, is you. It is my way of saying, I Remember. I remember every single moment, every single memory, and I pray for it not to be our last.

They say don't look back, but what if looking back is the only thing that keeps me sane enough to move forward?

This was something I wrote when I was 14... Thought I'd repost it since I found it again. Its been a while since I've stopped writing poetry, probably because I when I lost everything, when I gave it up... I let go of this too. The reason Im picking it up again was because I found a letter from a teacher that said , whatever you do, never give up your poetry.

I'll never meet that teacher again, but I'll follow that piece of advice. I'll do it for her

They heard our cries
Our yells and pleas
They stood there watching
We’re mute
They’re deaf

They watched us suffer
Endure days of pain
They stood there watching
We’re unseen
They’re blind

When we’ve seen the end
Ands its come and gone
They walk to us
Try to hold our hands

When children were dying
And innocent were killed
Who cared, back then?
Did you…?

When houses were destroyed
And lives were taken
Who cared back then?
Did you?

Its fake, I say
Its all a show
Lets scream , lets yell
Its all an act

Wipe away that sympathetic smile
That hypocritical tear
Who cared back then?
Did you?

The Legend Of A True Princess!




She was an angel, a beautiful dream, a magnificent hallucination.

Her eyes were flaming passion, her smile was divine, her tears were liquid diamond, her skin flawless porcelain.


In her life and in her death, she personified beauty. She was inspiring, charming and most of all she was brave.

Everyone wanted to be her, everyone longed to meet her. She was a younger Mother Theresa, with a large heart and lifes worth of compassion.

The camera loved her, the people loved her and God loved her too. As much as we wanted her by our side, HE did too and took her away too soon for many to accept. She was truly just too good for us...

Life isn't just about ones ownself. Princess Diana bought change in the world, she helped change peoples opinion on AIDS, she embraced leprosy patients and helped bringing eating disorders to public awareness. Along with a multitude of charity organisations that she supported Princess Diana was truly worthy of the title "Princess". She had her flaws and made mistakes, reminding us that even a member of the Royal is human. She broke down, had fun, got nervous, laughed, cried and everything a normal human being would do...

What was most honorable about her was that all her charity and support for the less fortunated were done without publicizing it, it wasn't done for attention but because she was truly compassionate and generous. She could not see people suffering and always wanted to make a difference

She was human, humane. She what a princess should be, what any leader should be.

Today,I still say "Princess" Diana, because even though she wasn't married to the Prince when she died, she will always be a Princess in our eyes.

It wasn't an accident, she didn't get killed, she was taken away because she was too beautiful, kind, loving and generous for us....

Perfection doesn't exist, but one woman who was imperfectly perfect passed away on 31 August 1997...

Tonight.

Last night I heard them fight,
In my bed while trying to sleep.
I heard a slap like t h u n d e r
And my brother began to weep


I saw two strangers in the hall
One mother and one father
I Turned to The Kitchen door
As he h i t her harder


He took my name I panicked
A Knife held in my hand
Through my neck I pushed it deep
And felt b l o o d as it ran


Lilly , they say again,
I'm scared and barely 12
Mum and Dad, I'm sorry
Tonight I k i l l e d myself.

Autistic? So what!

I am Summer









I am only 5 and I am different. I do not like to talk but I listen if you want me to. I do not show it but I do care. My mummy says I'm special, she tells me that I see the world different but the man in a white coat used the word Austisic. Mummy tells me thats a special word for special, I'm so special that I have my own word. She tells me I'm beautiful. My daddy says i'm daddy's special little girl






I dont want to be special because I get angry and I yell and scream. Daddy gets upset.

I am 8 and they are making fun of me. They laugh at my bag and my toys because I am too old for it, but I love my toys. They push me down and hurt my hand. Mummy gives me candy and kisses my hurt. Daddy says I'm his brave baby, but no one stops them. They call me special, but why can't I be just another human like you?

I am 9 and they took red teddy away, I cry and cry but no one cares. I dont wan't a new teddy its not the same. I don't have any friends, but mummy says thats because I'm special and they are jealous. I don't have anything to say in class and they call me stupid. Am I really stupid? Mummy said I was autistic, but autistic is special... I dont want to be special. I want to be me.







I am 10 and alone. Daddy said he was tired and mummy was crying. Daddy closed to door and he is not coming back. Is it because of me? Is it because I am special? Daddy I am not, please come back. I'll be unspecial. Daddy said I was mental, Am I made out of metal? Im just a little girl, daddy. I'm not metal.

Please don't treat me special, I'm just a little girl.
When I grow up, I w0n't be special. I'll go to school and have friends laughing. I'll play on the swings and write in my book, When someone takes my things away I won't scream or cry, I'll just learn to smile. I'll learn to talk, I'll dance and sing and be unspecial.
My daddy will come back because he loves me, and my mummy will hug me and say I'm the best.






I don't want to be special, not daddy's special girl, not autistic freak, not special sweetheart. What's so special about being special? Nothing...
I just want to be a little girl.

Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman?

Bryan first put it perfectly, asking a man if he ever really loved a woman?
When I look upon all the relationships I wonder how many men really love women as opposed to seeing them as someone to use and get their work through? After all, what would a man be without a woman?

"A little tenderness, you gotta treat her right. She will be there for you..."

Who ever gets treated right?

A few words about a womans physicality isn't enough for me. Im talking about love. About care, about saying... You mean the world to me. Thank you for being there.

I wonder how many men truly love? Isn't unfair for a man to be compared to a dog, when a dog shows it love without even uttering a word?

When was the last time you did something without thinking about yourself? A woman doesn't like being shouted at... somedays it hits the heart.
We know you get angry, but when you say things that hurt and not mean it, think about how it affects her.

Lies, are never told when you know it might hurt the person. We have feelings, we have poor self esteem, don't hurt us further.

Dont say we are selfish, after we've given you the world

If you ever cheated, then you never really loved that woman.


So tell me, have you ever really, really really ever loved a woman?

My Love Is Like...

O my Luve’s like a red, red rose,
That’s newly sprung in June.
O my Luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.--





My love isn't superficial. It isn't the wild, animalistic, fairy tale love.

It is the kind of love where we fight, we argue, we disagree but in the end we stand together. We don't hold hands or kiss in public but share inside jokes and secret messages.
My love isn't crazy, it is stable. It's not about hiding in corners, and enjoying private moments. Its about sharing our lives in the most normal manner.

No talk about marraige and children... lets talk about who'd kick whose ass in which sport. Not caring what people think, but maintaining a respectable reputation.

Not sneaking out behind our parents back, but forcing them to come along with us as well.

My love isn't immature, but our friendship is.



My love... it doesnt make me swoon, it makes me feel just right. Just right is all I need.


And a friend , thats what keeps us strong, because when all the romance, the fireworks, the butterflies go away, I see the one person who I can talk to, who makes me laugh and who comforts me when things go rough.

I see my future. I see happiness.



That is my love.

My love isn't mad passion... Its the soothing voice that says "Ill always be here..."
and best of all...means it.

<3

The Child No One Saw

We see but ignore each other, barriers separating us from the world. We move on, not seeing what the shaded faces are really showing.



I saw you that first day, dark skinned and meek, stains on your shirt that I premused was ketchup. Barely ten years old, your face was looking up at me, tired and when your hand held mine, I felt the callousness. A child with eyes wiser than the smartest of men, you remained silent through the day.

At first we thought you were shy, but those tears in your eyes when you heard of other peoples familys told a different story.
Forgive me, forgive me for not asking why.

If only I knew...

If only there was a way you could have told me, that those bruises were not from the playground, those tears were not just for attention and those stains all over your shirt were not from breakfast.

I didn't realise till it was too late. Please forgive me, I could have saved you. I could have done something.

I heard what they did to you before I saw the marks of suffering, but I did not believe anyone could hurt such a beautiful child. You deserved to live a wonderful life, enjoy your childhood and explore the joys of the world.

And now, you'll never have a first kiss, your 18th birthday, graduation, a child to love and care for. You'll never get to walk in the rain, or worry about assignments... You won't see daylight again... Your ten, and you loved her. You loved her till the day she slammed you into that wall, the day she kicked you in the ribs, the day she killed you. I know you still love her.

You were hurt, you were bleeding but you still cared about them, you still wanted to help her, but who helped you? Who cared about you?

We, ignorant, self-centred adults ... we ignored the belt marks, the wax scars, the burns, the unnaturally broken teeth and your poor hygiene. Was this the life you deserved?

She was your mother. She should have taught how to love a beautiful child...

They will be punished. Those tears your bled, the pain you felt...they will feel it too.

In all those months of knowing you, I didn't realise how hard your life must have been, to be hurt by those who ought to care for you.

Please forgive me. I wish I was there when she broke you, when you took your last breath. I wish I was there to stop her, to care for you. To give you a chance to live again.

You didn't deserve this. No one ever does.

God, are you watching?
... This is the world you left us in.

Dear Amelia ,









I am a failing set of wings, a broken beaten down child. When I reach out to touch the sky, nothing happens; I end up grasping nothing but a breath of air. I am worn out and torn; they made me feel this way.

But I have no excuse, I am still alive, I have my limbs and my health. I am conscious and can speak as well as hear. I can understand and concentrate.

I am. Perfect.

You, gorgeous...

You are strong and steady. You hold your head up high, and you most of all are all I aspire to be, but you cannot see.
You cannot hear.
You cannot understand.
You who are differently able’d, I do no pity you. I admire you, for through it all you have made yourself stand out.

Through your broken limbs, you have stood tall. Through your weak ears, you have heard my silence. Through your dark eyes, you have seen the brighter side and through your lack of speech you have told me all I need to know.

You are beautiful, don’t let anybody take that away from you. You are freedom, you are joy... you are in control of your life.

I look at myself and wonder, blessed with everything, have I done enough? And I see you, with much less than what I have, struggling but with a smile and I think... No, no I haven’t.

I am ashamed of myself, for I am not as talented or wonderful as you, young girl. You are a baby compared to me but you are much more worthy of life.

You are what everyone should strive to be.


I remember you that day, silent but happy... the joy in your eyes seeing the animals around you. For once you felt it was your turn to take care of something and you felt special.

The thing I failed to tell you, is that you never needed those moments to feel special, child. You were and always will be...

You are the most special thing to ever happen to me because you changed my life. You showed me what living was about... you made me realise the value of helping others. You taught me not to be selfish , without even knowing it.

You taught me that you don’t need to be a preacher, a doctor, a healer, to change people’s lives. You just need to show them the right way to live.

Amelia ,

Thank You.

Thank you for teaching me the value of life, the art of selflessness and the beauty in tiny acts of love.

One day, you will be able to see with your own ears, hear through your ears and comprehend the magnitude of the affect you have on people.

One day, Amelia , the world will be yours.

Fernando Torres

Fernando.

Many false promises, bad injuries and poor performances, we stood by you through it all, we listened, we believed and trusted you.

You were a red, which is why we covered up for you and claimed that you were the best, the truth is we made you who you are. You given an opportunity to be a red but you decided it wasn't for you.

Alright El Nino, You may leave. Your future is bright, and you are now a Blue.

It's alright because Liverpool aren't a one man team and we shall prove it to the world. If I have been taught anything, It is to have faith, for without faith , we are nothing.
We don't need one person to make a team, we need unity. With or without Torres, we have the unity, the support and the determination.
Who is Torres? Just another player in a sea of young men.

But Liverpool, Liverpool is a club so rare, that it cannot be made out of money or out of glory and big names... It is a club made with passion, with hope and with consistant suppport. We stick by our team no matter what.

Today, you did the opposite Torres, you were never a red, just a normal man thrown into the wrong clothes. You were given a chance to honour one of the greatest clubs in history, but you turned your back on them.

It isn't always about winning trophies. The chanting, the singing, the echo's of the fans , love like never before. Didn't you look around at Anfield, Torres? Couldnt you hear your name out loud? Couldn't you see tears in peoples eyes?
Or well you blinded by fame, glory, money?

If only you listened ,if only you saw outside your bubble of pride. Maybe then you would know what an honour it truly was.

You've missed your chance.

Good Riddance and GoodBye.

A Glimpse Of A BreakDown.

People don't really know how hard moving on is. Not in regards to a relationship, but life. When you are committed to someone, its only a few years of commitment, and maybe just maybe you'll get on with life.

What about starting life all over again, beginning your life afresh. I've been someone who has lived a luxurious life, from eating at classy restaurants, to chilling in the jacuzzi at the gym , everything was always perfect. Quaint little apartment, with a fluffy cat and clean bathtubs, shopping in air conditioned malls, that has been my life. It's different when your asked to shut your mouth, pack your bags and leave the country. Not once have I complained. I agreed, I'll do so. I'll study at a college that I hadn't heard of, given up my dream University. I agreed to leave those live football matches and all my friends behind to make people happy, I knew i'd be successful wherever I went because i'd put in my best.
I didn't complain.

I didn't complain about living in a country where I don't speak the language, or eating food that kept making me sick. I didn't complain about the weather I'm not used to.
I didnt even complain when the cat I've lived with my whole life died because of the new environment. I understood when I was told things need to change, I understood when I had to learn to move to a state where I knew no one, and adjust to a different level of studies. I understood when I was told I had to live in a hostel, where hot water doesn't exist and food tastes like mud. From cheesecakes and risottos', to curry and rice... and some sickly sweets for dessert.

Football is my life, I used to sit in anticipation hours before a match started, but I understood when I was asked to live in college accomadation where there is no television, no football and no internet.

Most of all, I understood when I was told I could never go back.

But who really understands me when I say I miss it all? No One.

It's true, when you pretend your strong, people just assume you are and give you even more to handle. I might just break down, I really might.

One Life, One Chance. Take Control.

“Sometimes the best way to deliver a punch is to step back. But step back too
far and you ain’t fighting at all."




Life as we know it is a series of disappointments, tragedies and little sparks of hope. No one begins life with perfection and no one ends it that way either. We are all miracles of the universe, born into families we have no control over. The doors to life open and we are pushed through it, unknowing of what lays ahead of us.

A child born to abusive parents, criminals or the perfect family is no different in the beginning. We are all babies, dependant on our guardians to take care of us...we may be black, white or brown, we are still babies reaching out to that hand that's supposed to be there to hold us. Some maybe be lucky enough to be born into perfect families, some may have a troubled life and some may even be abused and killed way before they see daylight, that's life.

Growing up is a process of learning , experimenting and failing. Once away from the nurturing of a perfect or imperfect parent, it is purely up to each living being to decide where the course of life will take them. A person bought up by alcoholics could be the most successful, where as a person bought up by a king might be a beggar, it is solely up to us.

One can give excuses for poor upbringing leading to inconsiderate behaviour, or lack of love leading to desperation for attention but there is nothing that could justify those excuses.
Dave Pelzer is a popular novelist, winner of the Volunteer Of The Year award and has dedicated his life to helping other people. Although he might sound like someone bought up with ethics and taught respect in a normal family one might be shocked to hear of his upbringing.

Dave nearly died in the hands of his parents, his stories is one of the most shocking cases of child abuse reported, where he was forced to drink ammonia and to eat from his baby brothers' dirty diapers. His mother once nearly choked him to death. At school, he was unable to breathe well because of the swelling on his throat. So much more...
Can someone like him be blamed for turning bad?

Yes, because it is we who control our future, not our parents, not our teachers or our friends. Everyone has to take the reigns of their own destiny before someone else does...
Don't ask for sympathy because of a poor childhood, ask for admiration for becoming someone no one expected you to.
We have one life, live it as you should not as others presume you would.


“Your life is the sum result of all the choices you make, both consciously and unconsciously. If you can control the process of choosing, you can take control of all aspects of your life. You can find the freedom that comes from being in charge of yourself.”
~ Bennett

Love In WaterColors

Empowering Women through Sports

& The Development of Women’s Football





Early generations gave men the authority to be the superior half of our race. From careers, to travelling as well as sports, they were given the opportunity to conquer it all, while women were asked to sit at home and tend to their children. Since those preliminary days the world has shown a lot of change, woman’s involvement in almost every aspect of life has brought on further development in the world.

In India, the empowerment of women has been a great achievement, whether in politics, medicine or media. There are many respected figures to look up to who have bought on change in gender discrimination and shown that women are equally, if not more talented, than men, they range from political figures like Indira Gandhi, to sportswomen like Sania Mirza.

Although laws have been passed to help bring empowerment to women, there is still a lacking in opportunities when compared to men. Women, have to struggle to make a name for themselves because through it all they tend to be scrutinized and criticized. In the field of sports, some states in India consider it taboo to talk about female participation. A very famous movie that showed this stereotypical belief in communities was “Bend It Like Beckham.” The movie showed that it was accepted for men to look up to a sports legend like David Beckham, unacceptable for a woman to do the same.
It is because of this that women do not have many opportunities and grounds for training when it comes to sports and athletics.

It is acknowledged that India is coming to terms with women in sports, with the rise of sports women like Sania Mirza and teams like the women’s hockey team but these women had to get where they are with much difficulty. They have had to face lack of interest from the government, gender discrimination from the public and severe discouragement from envious and narrow minded people in order to get to where they are today.

If a boy was interested in football, a parent could buy him a kit and take him to a soccer academy to build on his skill, but if a girl were to show interest in the sport, she wouldn’t be taken seriously causing a lack of women’s sports academy’s, training centres and clubs.

Countries in Europe and the Middle East have built numerous amounts of women’s academies, given their national team supportive training and special sports club to increase talent. Having given these opportunities not only encourages but teaches a lesson in equality between classes and genders.

Parents who try to convince their children that women’s football or cricket has not many prospects are not fully incorrect, but only in relation to India. India’s support system for women in sports is less than mediocre when compared to other countries.

Everyone watches the Premier League in India, but how many people know that Arsenal’s Women’s Team is more successful than the famous men’s team? How many people pay attention to the Women’s World Cup? If they did they would know that players like Mia Hamm and Martha are as talented, popular and rich as male favourites like Zidane and Ronaldo.

The story behind women and sports isn’t a complete dead end in India. There is no doubt that places like Calcutta, Goa and Kerala are taking interest in Women’s football. Calcutta has its own Women’s Football League, a major accomplishment in the area of Women’s Sports.

Even though India does have a national women’s football team, the performance internationally is very unsatisfactory due to the lacking in facilities available. No proper training grounds, camps, clubs prevent women from taking interest in sports like Football or Cricket.
Whilst travelling to Germany, it was said that Germany’s football federation took better care of our national team than India did itself. Such statements lead to disappointment and discouragement. It also makes a mockery of our government and our football associations.

In order for women to excel in sports, proper training, physiotherapy, regime and knowledge of the sport should have to be developed. There is no doubt that India is a host to many talented women but without proper guidance, the talent will be all but useless.

Although all other sports are opening the door for women athletes, for example, Sania Mirza in Tennis, Saina Nehwal in Badminton, Mary Kom in boxing, when it comes to football India is far behind.

Football or Soccer is the most popular sport in the world. The world cup hosts, not thousands, but millions of supporters every four years. The Premier league is watched all over the world, which is why women need to be given the opportunity to branch out into the sport. Some say football is not a sport, it’s life... There’s a lot to learn from it, like integrity, team work, passion and dedication. Only with correct training and awareness will women know the sheer beauty of a green field, the feeling of thousand spectators chanting your name and the exhilaration felt when the ball hits the back of the net...

Strength Of A Woman

When she is young, she will be daddy’s little girl and love him with all her heart. She will obey and respect and tell him how much she loves him. Through teen years, she will have crushes, first loves, heart breaks, tears, fears and worries. She will fight, but care; she will be filled with envy but not greed.

As she matures, she will fall in love and learn to be committed. She will dedicate her life to him, and when he fails to do so in return she will cry, hold her head up and continue to build her perfect relationship. She will forgive his every mistake, but do her best to make none of her own. She will care for him more than she cares for her own life. She will take care of him better than herself, while also tending to her parents and education. She will do as asked by her family, her teachers and her love. But she will still be a girl, she will cry on bad hair days and laugh at silly jokes. She will always be a good friend but always be cautious of who to trust.

And one day, she will leave her parents with tears in her eyes for the arms of the man she loves. She will build a house with a strong foundation, earn money and respect. She will own her pets and treat them like her children while making her husband feel like he is the only man in her life. Soon, she will start planning to start a family. She will take care of the house, work, cook and dream of a future with children.

As her wishes come true she will go through the pains of child birth like it is the easiest thing in the world and look at the wonder in her arms as if it was more than worth it. She will stay up all night listening to the cries of her baby break her heart, whilst making sure it doesn’t keep up her man. She will hardly sleep at night because of the tiny child holding on to her and she will hardly sleep during the day because she has a house and a husband to nurture.

She will shed tears on the first day of school and walk into office, healthy and ready to go. She will handle insults with calm and think only of her child. When she reaches home, she’ll hold her child tight as if she were to never let him go. She will face the crisis of who’s more important, but place her husband and her child equally. She will teach them to love unconditionally.

As her son grows older, he will learn respect, love, understanding and love from his mother. He will be the perfect man. Watching his mother make sacrifices for him, he will learn to make sacrifices for those he cares, and he’ll know that one day he will have to leave her. She will watch her husband one day leave her, his body cold and eyes shut... she will muffle her screams and hold in her tears. She will need to be strong for her son. She will tell him it’s alright, that daddy’s watching in heaven. And all this she’ll tell him knowing that one day she will be alone too.
Through her sons college years she will stay strong, bearing tantrums and fights. As her son matures she worries about being alone. She knows one day he will leave and as that day comes she will watch him go silently. After years of nurturing and care, looking around her empty home so alone and quiet. She will bear through it all and call him once in a while, with silent tears down her face, longing for her child
And on she’ll go on till death will call, she’ll stay strong and hold her head up high. .. because no matter what life throws her way she will always be strong.
Yes, she’ll always be strong.