Sponsored Video: Help a child reach 5!

At 1,

You are working nights, planning her first birthday party,

They are working nights, fighting to get food and safe water for her.

At 2,

You are running for her school admission,

They are running to save her life; she is fighting diarrhoea.

At 3,

You are reading bedtime stories to her,

They are reading the hospital bills with tears in their eyes.

At 4,

You are teaching her about the world,

They just lost their world-

As they stand in front of the small pyre; life and dreams up in flames.

At 5,

She is with you, today and forever,

But for them, she is lost forever.

This is the plight of millions of children in India. Millions who die even before they turn 5. Millions who never get a chance to live, to dream, to learn.

This is the India we never stop to think about as we shower all our love and our riches on our children.

India, a country which has one of the highest number of child deaths due to diseases which can be prevented by simple preventive measures such as washing hands.

Diseases such as Diarrhoea and Pneumonia.

Can we help? Can an action as small as awareness about washing hands help them? Yes, it can. Please watch the video and spread the word. This campaign has adopted a village called Thesgora in Madhya Pradesh which has the dubious distinction of having one of the highest number of diarrhoea cases.

We may not have the magic wand to get rid of poverty but we can do our bit to spread awareness in our neighbourhood, in our schools and in our homes. 

And if we want to do more, we can donate at

http://unr.ly/16W4RWa

6 lakh children under 5 die this way every year in our country. It's not their time to die. Not yet. Not this way.

They need our action. They need our voice.

This post has been sponsored by Lifebuoy.

What do we really give?

The eyes, you notice them first,

Eyes that have seen too much,

Eyes that know what’s false and what’s true,

Yet eyes that smile, warm and pure,

As you stand at the door; transfixed, unsure.

The smiles, yes, you notice them too,

Uncertain, yet bright, full of hope,

And dreams, untarnished by the past.

Their bodies frail, their clothes faded,

But nothing about them seems tired or jaded.

They may be

Children of war,

Or of abandonment,

Or of unimaginable terror.

But they want to live,

Are we really able to give?

Rushing every moment through life's giant schedule,

When did we lose time in this maze and riddle?

The money, the gifts, yes, they need them for sure,

But before you drop them and flee that door,

Do you feel this too?

That you might respect yourself more if you give them that lost time,

A long minute, frozen, just to hear them laugh, loud and free,

A gentle touch, a hug, a smile; will all that take up too much time?

But maybe innocence disfigured does still make you flinch?

You turn away - hey aren't you giving, standing at the fringe?

That clock, do you wish you could turn it back? To heal those scars?

Before the abandonment, or the terror, or the wars?

But then it’s all over, it’s time to run again,

To the giant schedule, the maze, the pain.

Does the mirror show just your own battered soul?

A futile attempt to feel again cleansed and whole?

Or does your heart skip a beat, do you feel that tug,

That glow of warmth that you cannot dismiss with a shrug?

Do the smiles and the eyes stay with you

Long after you leave that door?

For they may be

Children of war,

Or of abandonment,

Or of unimaginable terror.

But they want to live,

Are we really able to give?

image sourced from google.com

All that we cannot share

Don’t share with me your golden smile,

They need it, those that with you will walk a mile,

Or maybe two. Let them see you sparkling always.

Don’t share with me your glorious mornings,

Full of laughter and charm.

When you feel invincible,

Free from hurt and harm.

Share with me but your silences,

Share with me your fears,

Share with me the rush of sudden, unbidden tears.

Those unimaginable nightmares that 2 a.m. in the night, seem so real,

Awakening the demon of self-doubt, the mad urge to flee your dream.

When you are no longer the tower of strength that you may otherwise seem.

Let the world see you in your glory,

Share with me, you.