SPARKLE OF TRIUMPH Diwali was a couple of months away. So the day dawned early for Shambu. The gulleys of Sivakasi were like the nerves of his backhand- gnarled and twisted. The double idli packet wrapped in leaf and paper sat nestled in work-weary shorts, his meal for the day. Every day of the week he and his siblings worked in the near-by cracker factory for a living. Today he was instructed to be cautious as there would be inspection of the factory premises. The strong pungent odour of the chemical gave an initial cough as always. He rushed into his spot on the tiny mat and the chemical filling that was heaped in the front beckoned his expertise. He rolled out gently the red tissue expertly flattened did the filling , completed the cracker in a jiffy pushed it to the next counter to be wrapped in brilliant colours of marketing splendour promising to give you your five second high on a dark night , marking your festivities- be it a wedding or a funeral or a meagre prank. Did people realise how much pain and tears went into the making of crackers, the seven-year-old often thought. Every Time he saw the coloured fireworks in the sky he only felt pain. People laughed,enjoyed the blast, the sound ,the colours, the sparks but he could only see red spots of blood in the sky. These boys who worked day and night rolling crackers for a few rupees, never ever had the money to burst the sparklers. How ironic! There was a group of guys sometime back who tried to put him into school. Some NGO. He was sent to the local school. He was excited too. But his fingers and hands had refused to stretch, black and diseased by their constant exposure to the chemicals . The fingers couldn't even hold the pencil. Then his sister got married and he became the next breadwinner for the family with his father dead. The saga continued. Shambu looked out of the tiny window to see a completely different scenario. It was Diwali night . It was the first time he saw fireworks from an aeroplane. It was as if a million stars exploded, all at once. No wonder the kids loved to burst crackers! All his angst disappeared. He couldn't believe the rapid proceedings in his life after that fateful(?) day. The kind NGO Aunty who had visited their factory promised to get his hand fixed and provide him with education and opportunity. The brilliant sparkles in the night sky created ripples of light reflected in the eyes of the kid as HOPE dawned in his Life . The steel bird steered his future into an unknown yet bright destiny. A Triumph of Spirit, of Hope.

Iam Devi Babu, wife of Babu P A, Iam the propeietor of Devi Babu and Association, Mothers Fourm President of Nirma HSSchool Aluva, PTA Executive member at Vidhyadhiraja Vidhyabhavan H S school Aluva and Joint Secretary of Tax Consultant and Practioners Association, Aluva Unit.

Hey everyone, I'm Sweety ! 🌸 Let me take you on a little journey through my entrepreneurial adventures. It all began in a cozy shop filled with treasures for women and children. The joy of curating beautiful items sparked a passion in me. As life unfolded, so did my dreams. I decided to dive into the world of art and education, opening an institute where creativity knows no bounds. It's been a rollercoaster of challenges and victories, but every twist and turn has woven a story uniquely mine. From the colorful shelves of my shop to the inspiring classrooms of the art institute, I've learned that entrepreneurship is not just a business; it's a canvas waiting to be painted with determination and a sprinkle of creativity. Come along as I share snippets of my journey, embracing the chaos and celebrating the triumphs. Here's to every entrepreneur out there – keep dreaming, keep creating! 🎨✨ #EntrepreneurialSpirit #LifeStory #Handicraft

After completed my Doctorate degree in management I started my career as a HR manager in a multi-speciality hospital.But at my place as a working women not a easy to do job.My inlaws against it and restrict me and finger out on my charecter after that dismissed from home...After facing many problems by legally in came back my home with my 5 years old kid.In year 2020 I got super woman tag and in pandemic I start social work.Right now I m doing social work and involved many social and political activities.

I was a typical housewife,but always want to do something, before marriage financial problems, after marriage baby & all those things wich make us a perfect housewife, but in mind always recycling that matter ,some to do- I have do . Then I realized that I loved to do bake,then decide will be a baker. Start with some cake selling on footpath, after facing a long family burden. On street my stall was hit,after 3 months I opened my pastry shop, make my dream comes true, and now I do all work with my family support, & thats makes me so proud of myself. I have done,finally got my another identity,.

Had been in a toxic marriage for 10years with 3 boys, then took a decision to take a decision for myself and my 3 kids. Now,it's been 3 years i am seperated and happily staying and enjoying my life with my kids. As I always was working as a beautician but due to financial issues and to ic husband cannot take a decision for myself. But after the seperation life went smooth with kids and I could make out my mind and my dreams and slowly slowly started thinking of starting a parlour. Today I have started up my own parlour. But this was a drastically changed happen to me for a good and so I am handling my and my kids all needs and deeds. I am an independent women today who doesn't has any burden instead living my life with kids . That's the change I feel what I have got . So I feel every women should stand up for themselves to take our own decision and live our own life with happiness.

The hip hop girl When i was small i was a hip hop girl who walked in to all the houses in our colony... My routine starts at 7 a. m in the morning on holidays stepping into each house hold and playing at their homes..Those carefree days i had lot of enjoyment... People in those days showed so. much warnth and my visits gave immense happiness... My brother would come with a stick to drive me back to my home under my dear mothers instruction... In the blink of my mothers eye i would run away again.... Those days were the most enjoyable days in my childhood. My father who struggled a lot in his life never made us know of his worries or difficultues...we felt very happy and contended as he fulfilled all our desires.He wanted us to be well educated ... I didnt understand the value of education those days.. I grew up to be a kind hearted woman and dreamt of beoming a good housewife... I never thought of doing a job... I understood the need of a job after my broken marriage... With two little kids and an aged father i knew it was not so easy to live... Finally i took up a job to look after my babies... Life was not so easy for me... My struggles ended up when i got a good job..Now i have two proud sons who are excelling in their careers and i can guarantee that i can look upon them in my old age...

A small Village girl have lots of dreams,, dreams of positive changes in the society, in life , in status of women, children, enviornment etc. After a loge time she got Success in her struggle and start to pay back to society in form of making Motivational vedios, writing Motivational quotes and knowledge sharing etc . For that she got mamy National and international Awards such as भारत श्री राष्ट्रीय सम्मान, भारत गौरव रत्न श्री सम्मान, RealSuperWomanFSIA, real life hero सम्मान incudind 4 World Records, she is an example of continuous straggle .Thank you.

Short Story The Resilience of a Woman (A True Story) Sakina an ex dancer in a beer bar in Mumbai has risen from very difficult beginnings in which she strived everyday so hard to live and create a new life for herself, safe for her children away from the prying eyes of the world.  As a dancer in a beer bar (from the Kathak gharana of dance form) she came to Mumbai to etch a living for her parents and family, comprising of three sisters and four  brothers back in her village home, in Agra. She struggled hard to make ends meet and at the same time send her family money, for their welfare and upkeep. Her first daughter was born out of wedlock as her partner absconded soon after, leaving her pregnant as he had done with so many other women before. She raised her daughter by continuing her dance profession for it was her only way out to support herself and her little one. When her daughter was about three years old she approached me to help her gain admittance to a good school by giving them my address, as they were unwilling to admit a child with a Kamathipura address, the red light district of Mumbai.  Soon after she married a Bangladeshi jewellery craftsman who worked as a goldsmith in the Jhaveri bazaar area of Mumbai. Her second daughter was then born. In her foresight helped by a friend, she moved out of the area where she had started her career, by selling a plot of land in her village and bought a small flat at Mira Road where she started a life afresh, as a mother determined to bring up her two little children away from the shadow of the life she had led.   She still carries the burden of the life of an un-erasable past married to a husband, who now after twelve years of their married life moved to another city where he lives with another woman, whereas she struggles to bring up her children singlehandedly with her meagre savings, and the small amounts he sends her from time to time to educate and bring up her children, the only reason she claims for which she clings onto her husband in this make believe marriage, that gives her a clean chit, a marriage certificate to live a decent life as an acceptable member of a permissive society, where he keeps her chained to him under close scrutiny by closely monitoring her every move over a mobile , lest she goes back to her old life so much so that she has stopped going out, resigning herself to the four walls of her house.  She lives a Jekyll and Hyde life (between her husband’s brief short sporadic visits to Mumbai) on one hand by giving her children the freedom of leading independent lives (being raised in a modern city like Mumbai) and on the other hand putting up with her conservative Muslim husband who continues to impose the same views on her two girls who are now beginning to resent him, asking their mother to break off from his constant abuse and accusations. ——- The abridged version of the above story (300 words) The Resilience of a Woman (A True Story) Sakina came to Mumbai from Agra to be a beer bar dancer to support her family with six siblings. Her first daughter was born out of wedlock after her partner absconded. She raised her daughter by continuing her dance profession. When the daughter was three, she sought my help to gain admittance to a good school by providing my address as they were unwilling to admit a child with a red-light area address. She married a Bangladeshi craftsman, and her second daughter was born. Helped by a friend, she moved out of the red-light area by selling a plot of land in her village and bought a small apartment in a suburb where she started life afresh, as a mother determined to bring up her two children away from the shadow of the life she had led. She has borne the burden of life with an un-erasable past, and a husband who moved to another city where he lives with another woman, whereas she struggles to bring up her children singlehandedly with her sparse savings, and the small amounts he sends periodically to educate and bring up her children. She clings on to her husband because it gives her a marriage certificate to live a decent life as an acceptable member of society, whereas he keeps her chained to him under scrutiny by closely monitoring her every move over his mobile. She has hence stopped going out, resigning herself to the four walls of her house.  She lives a Jekyll and Hyde life: giving her children the freedom of leading independent lives and simultaneously putting up with her conservative husband who continues to impose the same views on her two girls who are now beginning to resent him, asking their mother to break off from his constant abuse and accusations.