Dust To Dust

“I can’t wait for this day to be over”…..

“I can’t wait for this week to end”…

“I just want midterm season to end”…

“I can’t wait for this year to be over”…

These statements are so normal, so overused, so mundane in our daily lives. We say them without even thinking about them; we say them without pausing to ponder on their implication.

“I can’t wait for my life to be over”

Woah. That’s extreme.

Right.

But how is it any different from any of the previous statements?

No, like, I just want to have the good moments you know. The moments I feel truly alive. Because I definitely don’t feel alive when I am finding the solid as y=x^3 is rotate around y=x ya know.

How often do those moments happen? When you really feel alive?

Uhh, occasionally. Pretty rare, tbh.

Let’s assume we will all live until 80, hoping that we don’t burn the planet to the ground in the next century or so. But out of all those 80 years, how many years do we actually live? Life is often compared to a roller coaster, so how many of those moments are the moment when you’re at the top of the vertical fall? How many moments are the big moments: falling in love, walking across the stage, walking down the aisle, holding your child for the first time? Not that many, compared to the mundane moments when you’re stuck at the traffic, and if you’re a New Yorker, sitting through yet another MTA delay, when you think you will get to relax after you finish this one assignment, but right after you hand it in you have another Lab report to write and then you think you will really live after this semester ends but then there is yet another semester and it seems like you’re always just waiting. Waiting for the traffic to move, waiting for the class to end, waiting for the semester to end, waiting for this year to end. Waiting for your life to end. Waiting to live, and in that, waiting to die.

In many ways, our lives can be compared to that of Sisyphus—the absurd hero of Greek mythology. Sisyphus, upon fucking something up, was punished by the Gods(?) to raise a huge ass rock up the mountain, only to watch it roll down and push it up that mountain again, forever. For eternity, pushing a rock up the mountain, knowing that all his hard work, is eventually for nothing. Nothing will stop the eventual oblivion. Sounds familiar?

Betty Friedan once wrote, “Each suburban wife struggle with it alone. As she made the beds, shopped for groceries, matched slipcover material, ate peanut butter sandwiches with her children, chauffeured Cub scouts and Brownies, lay beside her husband at night—she was afraid to ask even of herself the silent question – “Is this all?” Haven’t we all though? Havent we all had that moment in a seemingly mundane afternoon after class? Even for people who have apparently more “important” jobs, isn’t it the same? Those same classes over and over again, same flights, same codes, for most of our fleeting lives. Very few top of the roller coaster moments. Too many moments spent just existing, very few moments lived.

Now if we think about it, every moment in our life when we are wishing for a different moment (which is pretty often), we are wishing our life away. In search of something better, something of higher meaning or purpose ( whether it is being at a particular place in our careers or the desire to go to heaven) we are forgetting to live. We are living for the next A (or if you’re in Engineering, for the next C+), and then the next A and then the next thousands and just like that, it’s over. It’s a paradox really, in the illusion that we will get to live someday, we forget to live right now.

Here is the thing though, most of our life is going to be those mundane moments when we are grinding to finish the next assignment or waiting in the never ending line in Union Sq Trader Joe’s .

Does that mean we don’t live most of our already fleeting lives?

David Foster Wallace in his famous convocation speech talked about how two fishes had to be reminded what water was as they forgot its existence because they were always surrounded by it.

“This is water, this is water”, he wrote.

 Just like those fishes, we need the reminder too. In those moments when we forget it, those moments when we want the clock to move a little faster, those moments when we want to be anywhere but where we are, in those moments you can’t stop the voices in your head--

This is life, this is life.

Our lives are not something distant, it is something that is happening right now. It is this moment. And no matter how much it sucks, no matter how much it hurts, it is our life. This mundane moment is objectively going to last the same as the top of the world moment. But the difference is we will forget this mundane moment. We will forget most of our lives.

There is nothing to counteract that. The only thing that we can do is be conscious of it. When you’re in that 2 hour long lecture and you’d rather be ANYWHERE else, take a deep breathe and tell yourself “this is life, this life”. This moment deserves the same compassion, same love that you look back on your best memories with. Live it up. Living it up does not have to be a grand moment. It can be right now. Be conscious. Be here, now.

Going back to Sisyphus’s depressing ass story, Albert Camus, a French philosopher, in his book, The Myth of Sisyphus, writes :

“I leave Sisyphus at the foot of the mountain. One always finds one’s burden again. But Sisyphus teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and rocks. He too concludes that all is well. This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night-filled mountain, in itself forms a world. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”

“The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”

I don’t think anything has ever moved me as much as this quote. This quote is an inspiration for this piece, it is also central to how I (try to) live my life.

Albert Camus does not sugarcoat the fact that Sisyphus is stuck in most depressing situation ever. He doesn’t try to tell us that there is a higher meaning to life or that there is something that can transcend our existence. But he gives us the golden idea that maybe, life is not about getting to the top of the mountain. It is about the next step, it is about pushing the rock up the mountain knowing that it will fall. Life is not waiting for the weekend or waiting for the summer, it is about this moment, this instance when you’re suffering through CS homework. It is about living those mundane moments to the fullest. It is knowing that there is no higher meaning to life other than just life. It is about living the ordinary moments. Like when you get into the shower and there is literally no water pressure, but you still let your senses to submerge in the sound of water as it falls, and as it comes into contact with your skin and you feel each and every single droplet. It is about taking the moments you spend waiting to get onto the roller coaster and turning them into top of the world moments.

And maybe, a life lived for life itself is a life worthwhile.

 GIF from my favorite movie ever, Waking Life

Few Words About Dhaka

The day before yesterday,seven terrorists took hold of a cafe in Dhaka, and took the people hostage. I am currently in Dhaka, and was witnessing the whole thing on live TV as missions to rescue the hostages were carried out. 

The hostage crisis took place in Gulshan, a diplomatic and a wealthy area of Dhaka.The hostages were mostly non-Bangladeshis. What really shook me yesterday is the fact that my dad works in that area, and he could have been in the café as well. Gulshan is 6 miles away from my home, and having something like that going on so close was emotionally draining. However, I do feel that as someone who was so close to this whole thing, I should say something.

Opening up the morning news paper was heart achingly painful. The police forces carried out a commando mission to rescue the hostages, but 20 hostages were already killed. 2 police officials also lost their lives. The wife of one of the police officials is expecting a child. This unfortunate child will never see its father. As previously stated, most of the hostages were non-Bangladeshis. Most of them were Italians, but also included Indians, Japanese and Bangladeshis. The Bangladeshis who were killed, were young and in college in America. They had just returned to the country to celebrate Eid with their families. Just like me. 

Similarly bothering is the fact that this took place  not only during Ramadan, a month of self reflection, peace and solidarity, but also on Jumatul Bidah--the last Friday of Ramadan-- which is considered especially sacred. I believe the timing is intentional, it is almost as if ISIS is trying to say that nobody is safe, even in the most sacred day of the month of peace. However, this also indicates that ISIS has nothing to do with Islam. 

I have always been proud of the fact that unlike some of its Muslim neighbors, Bangladesh is not crippled with radicalism. But as ISIS and other terrorist groups try to expand their realm, this maybe changing. While Bangladesh is a country that many will go without having it on their bucket list or ever knowing that it is not India, I proudly call this third world country my home. It is a country that has humbled me, a country that has taught me to speak up about issues that are important. It is a country that has made me give a damn.




While Facebook profile pictures will never have the green and red fi


lter of the Bangladeshi flag to show solidarity, what we can do is that remember that the pain, the fear, and the tears are as real as Paris. Please keep Bangladesh in your thoughts and prayers. And as we approach the end of this holy month, I think we all know what we want for Eid--the end of terrorism.

Sarees and Climate Change, Environmental Justice, Consciousness vs Activism

I have only worn a saree twice in my life. Saree is a traditional cloth worn by South Asian women, and it marks the significant transition from girl to woman in many ways. It's not just a piece of clothing for South Asians, it is the embodiment of our rich and vibrant culture. That said, it is wicked hard to wear a saree. It is literally 6 meters of cloth that you are supposed to wrap around your body while managing to look modest and feminine. So you can now guess why I have only worn a saree twice in 17 years.

The first time I wore a saree, I was five years old. Unfortunately, camera phones were not a huge thing back in 2004, so I have no pictures of my awkward five year old self wearing a saree; I only have fading memories of that day. It was mid-April, and I had to wear a saree for our school's Bengali New Year program. 14th April marks the beginning of a Bengali year, and it is also the first day of Summer for Bangladesh(Yeah, I know, it is weird). According to Bengali calendar, each day begins with sunrise, and it is a long tradition in Bangladesh to gather in Romna, a park in the capital city, to welcome the new year as the sun rises. I remember going into Romna around six in the morning, holding my father's hand and trying not to trip on my saree. I remember having a shawl matched to my saree, as the early hours in April could get chilly. I spotted my school among the crowd and went over to them, almost tripping on my way. And as the run rose on 14th April 2004, we sang in century old tune, looking forward to new, sacred beginnings.

Flash forward to 2014. I had gotten away with not wearing sarees on New Years for the past 9 years, but this year, I was mc'ing. I had to wear a saree. No exceptions. So I sucked it up. My school held its New Years celebration at campus because Ramna was too crowded. I arrived at school around 6, after spending an hour putting safety pins on my saree so it does not come off in the stage. I had to be on the stage at all times, and as I struggled to remember the next performer, the next witty cultural joke, sweat dripped down my back and my neck, despite having a fan pointed right at the stage and having a canopy on top. As the event went on, I started to despise my once favorite holiday just because how hot it was. I could not bear to smile sweetly and speak in impeccable Bengali (no English on New Year) when I felt like I had just taken a bath in sweat. I just wanted to leave and enjoy the coolness of my air conditioned home. As soon as the event ended, I went straight home, even though my friends stayed back. They begged me to stay back, but I left anyway. "It is too hot", I said to them.
 
It was my last year celebrating the Bengali New Year. I moved to the United States in August 2014.

Bangladesh is the 4th country that is most affected by climate change. It is also one of the countries that has contributed least to world's carbon emission(178th among 214 countries). Climate change is something that is actively felt in Bangladesh from year to year; it is not something that is far off the future, like it is for most first world countries--countries that have contributed and continue to contribute the most to the world's carbon emission. In the early 2000s, average temperature in the capital city during April was in the high 70s. Fast forward to 2016. The highest temperature has been consistently 100 F or above for the last couple of weeks. Unbelievable high temperatures is only of the many woes. Bangladesh also ranks the top in flooding and second top in the list of nations in danger of more frequent and intense storms. While I enjoy the rather cool Spring here in New England, my friends back in Bangladesh are trying not to die from a heat stroke. Go figure.


Here is where the phrase "environmental justice" comes along. Environmental justice acknowledges the intersections between climate issues and other social justice issues, particularly race, and also class. It acknowledges the unfairness of the system. For example, as previously mentioned, countries most affected by climate change-- Kirbati, Bangladesh, sub- Saharan Africa, South east Asia-- have done the least to cause it. They will be paying for it sooner than us. Another example could be how poor neighborhoods often have the worst living conditions, and how it is often ignored by the authorities. People of low income and people of color and more likely to experience environmental contamination, toxicity etc.


The only way out of this is a mindset shift. Climate change cannot be seen as an isolated issue. We cannot distinguish between their problem and our problem. It is not "their" problem. It is our problem. We all share a planet. We all have to pay for it, sooner or later. We cannot mark a place as a "sacrifice zone", just because it is not a first world country. This will be perpetuating a system that already privileges some and harms others. We have to realize that while we are not affected by climate change right now in the comfort of first world countries, somewhere in that nameless island nation that nobody cares about, the street a little girl lives in just went under water. And the blame is on me; the blame is on you; the blame is on all of us. Until we personally feel guilty for climate change, true change to the situation will not come.

Hopefully, I have made you feel a little guilty. That was the point.

So, what can I do? This is a question that is fairly common. Climate change is such a big and scary issue, that individual efforts can seem pointless.
But they are not.

You and I can do things that will impact the bigger picture. These impacts will be small, but it is better than doing nothing at all. As one of my best friends and fellow environmental activist said, "Apathy is a death wish." This is where I want to talk about Environmental Consciousness vs Activism. Most of us are familiar with the threats that climate change present, and are very concerned, but what do we do about it? Nothing. Of course, being conscious of climate change is important, and that is the first step towards change, but we cannot stop there. We have to take active efforts, and those active efforts start at our homes. They do not have to be big changes. You don't have to stop driving all together. But try to take the public transportation, walk or bike if you can. Yes, it will take more time. But it will also give your kids more time with the beautiful planet we call Earth. A little sacrifice today will come back with interest tomorrow.

So, what else can we do?
Here is a list of things I can think of off the top of my head.

1.Turn down the heater during peak hours by a degree or two. Do the same for air conditioners during summer.
2.Hang your laundry outside instead of using a dryer if the weather is nice. If your neighbors judge you, judge them back for not doing the same.
3. Walk, bike, take the public transportation. PLEASE avoid driving if you can. Automobiles are one of the main causes of carbon emission.
4.Time your showers. Take slightly colder showers. Get them fancy shower heads.
5. Get energy saving light bulbs.
6.RECYCLE!
7. Switch to electric heaters.
8. Use energy efficient electronics.
9. Divest from fossil fuels.
10. Get a reusable water bottle. Don't buy water from Poland Springs and other companies.
11. Don't use styrofoam or any thing that is not biodegradable.
12. Join your local 350 group. They are an awesome environmental organization that is working towards building a global climate movement. Check Them Out Here
13. GO SOLAR! They are much cheaper nowadays compared to previous years.
14. Show up to events. Even if you think you do not know enough about climate change, show up. That is how you learn, and that is how you change.
15.Hold yourself accountable. Know that long shower and long drive did just make it worse.
16. And lastly, care. Care about the environment. Care about the Earth. Care about those kids who will not get to play in the streets in front of their house. Empathize. Learn to give a shit.


I believe that we can change what now seems inevitable, but only if we show an active effort. We have to remember that there is no planet B. If we all do our parts, maybe the streets I grew up in will not go under water. Maybe that little Bangladeshi girl who is wearing saree for the first time will welcome the sun of the new year, instead of despising the beginning of summer.

23 years old widow

Let me tell you a story.

Let's take a leap in time.It's the beauty of stories,you get to travel space-time without leaving the surroundings that are warm and familiar.

1925,East British-India. (You are welcome to imagine this in Black & White)
Majumder,just your average farmer,died,leaving behind his 23 year old wife and two sons.One of his sons wasn't even old enough to know what death was,and another son was merely 10 years old.The villagers,motivated by their utmost concern for them(insert sarcastic tone),suggested the 23 year old widow to put her elder son into the farm.His father was a farmer,why should he be anything different,right?The widow wiped her tears with her saree and said,"No,I want my son to continue going to school."

If you have any idea what South Asian villages are like,you would know that you CANNOT take a decision without having all the elder people giving you their wisdom.And if you are a woman,especially a widow,you cannot take any decision at all.

But that widow took her decision,and despite the society taunting her for it,she sent her sons to school.Her elder son,however,was a naughty one.He always managed to get himself in trouble,didn't do good in school,and all the other things disobedient kids do(which I wouldn't know,of course). Mrs.Majumder's elder son's actions were causing many disputes in the village,and she would get complains often.The villagers kept suggesting putting him in farming instead of school.The villagers were big with their wisdom,but when it came to helping the widow financially,no one offered a penny.Mrs.Majumder,who was uneducated herself,sold her lands in order to survive and keep her sons in school.Years past.Her elder son took the 10th grade exam,and he failed.No surprise in there.But her son ran away fearing that his mother would beat him.He decided to come back after a few months in Kolkata,India and he took the exam again.The second time,he passed.He was the first person from that village to have passed that exam.He was my grandfather.

My grandfather failed the 10th grade exam.He ran away from home,by home I mean Feni,Bangladesh and went to Kolkata,India.Where did you think I get the badass in me from?It was 1930 when my grandfather decided to come back and re-take the exam(called Metric exam back then). This was 17 years before the British left the sub-continent and India and Pakistan was born.Bangladesh doesn't appear in the scene until 1971,it was just referred as "East British India" back then(before 1947).

After my grandfather passed the exam,he went to Kolkata and got a job in the railway.He came back to Bangladesh(referred as East Pakistan)after 1947.He spent his whole life working for the railway,from 9 to 5. My grandfather,he didn't go past 10th grade.But you can't imagine how grateful I am to my great grandmother for sending my grandfather to school.

Everything I am today,I owe this to that 23 years old widow,who didn't give up,who didn't bow to society.Who realized the value of education,despite being uneducated herself.She'd never have any idea that her sole decision to be stubborn had a ripple affect which has changed lives,in the best way possible.

If my grandfather didn't go to school,he would remain a farmer,oblivious of the power of education.He wouldn't work day and night to send my father and his siblings to school.He wouldn't send my uncle to study here in America.He wouldn't apply for my family's immigration.If my grandfather didn't go to school,I wouldn't be here.I wouldn't be here writing this blog,I wouldn't be here loving Math and Science,I wouldn't be here knowing how education can change your life.I wouldn't be me,the girl who loves reading.

So this post is to the strongest woman ever,the woman I have never met--my great grandmother.Thanks for the fight you put up,thanks for realizing the value of education,thanks for sending grandfather to school.

I owe you one.

-Mourin

"Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world."-Nelson Mandela

Speaking 3 Languages..and counting

Not bragging or anything(maybe I am),but I speak 3 languages-Bengali,Hindi and English.And I love speaking 3 languages.I am learning Spanish currently,and I can't wait to be fluent in it!

I genuinely love speaking multiple languages,because I feel like every language has an unique beauty,which belongs to that language and that specific language only. I have tried translating one language to another,and somehow it just loses all of its magic in the process.This is true for all the languages I speak,and something makes me think it is true for all the languages that exist.

Aside from these 3 languages,I speak more or less fluent Urdu(I didn't count it in because it's pretty similar to Hindi) and also I understand Marathi and some other Indian languages.Again,not bragging,I only understand these languages as they all have the same mother language,Sankskreet. All credit goes to my Bengali Grammar teacher who made me learn Sankskreet roots.Kudos!

I am going to sound horrible obnoxious now,but I sometimes feel bad for people who don't speak Bengali.Which is like,the world population-211 million people,but still.This might sound odd,I am a 16 year old teenager and I listen to songs which were literally written more than 100 years ago.Yes,Ladies and Gentlemen I am talking about Rabindranath Tagore. Don't get me wrong,most of my generation thinks it's uncool to listen to Tagore,but I can't help it.My mother and grandmother have taught me how to love Bengali literature,and this love for literature always brings me back to Tagore.If you are confused,let me tell you,Tagore was a writer and a musician and a poet and lots of other things.So anyways,I remember I used to think everyone understood Tagore as he got Nobel Prize and everything then one day I realized "Wait,everyone doesn't speak Bengali."And I instantly felt so bad.You don't know what you are missing out on if you don't listen or read Tagore.I know this sounds obnoxious,that every language has its great literature and music,but every language doesn't have Tagore,who is known as the Universal Poet.And of course Bengali is my mother language,of course I am biased. 

Let's talk about English.It is my 2nd language(or 3rd,Idk).Let's all accept the fact that English needs more alphabets.26 letters ain't cutting it Bruuh. Like literally,no one can pronounce(whose first language is English) the "dha" sound.They either say "da" or "tha".We literally have different alphabets in Bengali for those sounds.

Okay I am probably offending all the English language speakers now,I am sorry.English is a beautiful language.Speaking English makes travelling in the world so much easier.Thanks to the Brits for occupying most of the world for hundreds of years,almost everyone knows the littlest bit of English.But being the most known language(note: I didn't say most spoken) doesn't make English dull.I am pretty okay in English despite it being my second language,and the ways you can play with this language is just fascinating.When you actually start digging into a novel in an analytically,you know the thing English teachers make you do in High School,you realize how diverse and beautiful the language actually is.And sometimes I am more comfortable with communicating in English(even when the other person speaks Bengali) because I feel like it is a good language to use if you want to speak the truth and don't wanna offend anyone.

Lastly,Hindi.Oh India,your catchy bollywood songs made me fluent in Hindi without even having any official lessons.Hindi is an awesome language,especially for songs.Everything just seems to rhyme and make beautiful music.I can't really read Hindi,so I can't say anything about the literature.But Hindi is a great language to learn if you want to get a taste of India and also enjoy wanna enjoy dialogues like "Senorita,bare bare shahro main choti choti bate,hoti rehte hai.".(Did you know in Obama's recent visit to India,he tried to quote this dialogue?Keyword:TRIED.)

Every language is beautiful in its own way.I really recommend learning another language if you have some time to spare,learn another language.Just start by listening to a random song or watching a movie.Trust me,you will never regret it.

"Give me some sunshine,give some rain

Give me another chance I wanna grow up once again."

-Mourin

Devastatingly Beautiful

I feel like it is the perfect time for me to dress up in Elsa costume and sing Let it go to the massive pile of snow in my driveway,maybe then it will move. Spoken like a true New Englandner,eh? Seriously tho, it has been snowing for over 24 hours now,the historic blizzard is on full swing. It is not supposed to stop till 1 am today,the roads are blocked,thousands flights are canceled and I'm lovin' it. Not because of the two snow days,but because I'm getting to feel raw nature after so long,and nature,like pain,demands to be felt.

Ever since I have come to 'Murica I feel like I have stayed away from raw nature for a long time. Don't get me wrong,it's not like there are no trees or whatever,but it just feels artificial to me. Like everything is planned,thought out.Nature isn't something that should be planned,it isn't something to be tamed,it is something to be left on it's own,to run wild. And we humans are yet to learn that.

I have said enough times how much I miss the rain of Bangladesh. One of the many reasons I love the rain of Bangladesh because it is so reckless. It would cause power outage, blocked roads and basically it would leave you helpless. I remember one time it rained for 5 days constantly,and everything just came to a complete stop. Only then did I realize,no matter how technological advances we get,we are helpless in front of nature.And there is a certain kind of beauty in that.

When I was 12,we went to a place called Rangamati in Bangladesh for vacation. It is basically a mountain-y place,with lots of mountains towering over. I remember standing in front of a 70 foot drop,and I was scared to death but I couldn't move from that place.It was so beautiful,that you just calls you closer,even when you know that a couple more steps and you are gone.Standing in front of that 70 foot drop,my 12 year old self finally understood the meaning of "devastatingly beautiful." I love speaking 3 languages you see,and in Bengali "devastatingly beautiful" doesn't sound nearly as lame as it does in English. But you get the idea.

Nature is scary and beautiful at the same time.It has always been.That's what that draws us to it. Sometimes we think we are too cool for nature and try to control it in our way,and you see the result for yourself-global warming,green house effect all those stuff. My point is,we all should just accept the fact we are not so much different than our ancient ancestors who had no protection against nature.They survived because they adapted to nature,not the other way around. All our fancy technology ain't going to do any good when you have a power outage cause of a blizzard or hurricane. Evil? Maybe.But beautiful,too. Only nature has the power to be devastatingly beautiful.

That is so STRAIGHT!

I was volunteering at this ELL program in my school last Wednesday,which is basically helping the families whose first language is not English. Let's be real,I was not volunteering as much as I was taking selfies or preparing for my History quiz (Yes,I was studying,I had 3 quizzes the following day). Anyways,I am at this table,the kids are drawing and coloring some stuff we printed out,and this boy,who cannot be older than 8,points at another kid's painting and goes "That is so GAY." I stared at the boy for a couple of moments then glanced over to see what was so "gay" about that painting,and it turned out to be nothing but a monkey wearing a pink shirt. I was just shocked to hear a kid saying "gay" to insult something. Yes,call me naive,but I was.

Which brings us to the matter that why a 8 year old kid saying gay in order to insult something? Option 1: That kid is a jerk.
Option 2: He has picked up this habit from someone older
If looked at this matter logically,you will probably agree that Option 2 makes more sense.

That being said,we now have a new issue. Why is an older person,who is more mature,using the word gay to insult something/someone? Let's forget that person,before we accuse someone of something we should look at ourselves. How many times do we say "That is so gay" to insult something? I have heard people doing it,and I myself is guilty of doing it in my not-so-mature teen years. As I grew up,I looked at myself and thought "Wow I am so stupid." and then I stopped saying that phrase. We always talk about changes in the society,but we do not understand the fact that society will not change if the change is done from the very root. Like,stop using that stupid phrase. Accepting homosexuals and gay-rights is a big thing now,and it will not be achieved until we change our little habits. Yes,this may sound very lame,but huge changes do begin from a shift in the mindset. And what we say/do reflect our mindset. Gay rights will not be properly established until we stop using the word gay(which actually means Happy,if you didn't know) to insult,female rights will not be achieved until we start going to the girls basketball game. It might be hard for some of you to understand why I am repeating the fact that we have to stop saying gay to insult someone,but let me tell you,I have met countless males who would not wear a pink shirt cause it makes them look gay. How ridiculous is this? Just like how wearing yellow doesn't say what kind of pizza do you prefer,wearing pink doesn't say anything about your sexuality. We live in a society where we are trying to establish gay rights,while simultaneously refusing to wear pink because it is a "gay color." The last time I checked,there was no color for "sorry I don't do hypocrites" cause if there was,I would be wearing that color every.single.day.

Coming back to that kid,he didn't have any fault. He has obviously learned the phrase from someone else and used it to prove his worth. But what about that person whom he learned it from? He is probably an adult and has the ability to think logically. That kid,he represents the future. And if that is the future,I am not sure if I want to see it. And that adult,he is the present. And it disgusts me. I am not even going to talk about the fact that you do not have a say in another person's sexuality and life,I am just saying, we need to stop using the word gay to insult somebody. Because I am sure I have never heard anyone saying "That is so STRAIGHT". Why this discrimination? All this gay rights people are talking about,they will do nothing,until we change our mindsets. Until we change ourselves.

Am I right or am I left?*

-Mourin

*(Just had to throw in that pun right there,I feel I have let my anger control my writing too much)