Author Archives: Arjun Kapadiya

Is it worthwhile to advocate on behalf of individual prisoners?

          Most people know the story of Mahatma Gandhi – a prisoner under the British reign of India. He spoke first; alone and devoid of any major support. Once he spoke, he gave courage to others. The courage that people have the right speak for themselves, whether in prison or not. He is just one of such examples. Nelson Mandela was another such figure. Whether a prisoner or not, if someone has to say something they should be heard.

          Under the United Nations Human Rights Declaration Article 10 “Everyone is entitled in full equality to a fair and public hearing by an independent and impartial tribunal, in the determination of his rights and obligations and of any criminal charge against him”, it is clearly stated that – keyword – everyone is entitled to such rights. Even a prisoner comes under the category of everyone, no mater what their crime, how long they have been in there for or even their background. Canada prides itself when it come’s to the right to free speech – as it should considering other countries – however, would that right not be taken away if that sole individual is smothered under the scales of Lady Justice? The same individual could be the one to tip the scales for better prison conditions, better visiting hours, in short, a better life.

          Each independent individual should be able to fight for their rights. They may be in prison, however, Human Rights – birth given rights – cannot be taken away. The Canadian Constitution grants a right to free speech, and they should have access to it. Each voice is an important one. Imagine yourself in that situation; feeling the injustice, wanting to scream out, fight for real justice, and having no one to listen to you – would you feel that your one voice could have made a difference?

– Arjun K.

Sit down, kick back, relax, open your mind


New Home Away From Home

As a first year student myself, I know exactly how others feel. A little sad that you are moved down to the last rung of the social ladder once again, and in turn a little helpless. There is nothing to worry about because in college there is always something for everyone to do and fit in.

What I did to help others get around Humber College’s Lakeshore campus a little better is, as I was exploring it for myself, I marked down the different stores, restaurants, and services around campus. I hope this can help people and give them a better idea about the neighbourhood in which they are going to live, work, and study in.

Each number on the map corrosponds to a number beneath the picture. (i.e. 1 on the map is Printing. Copies.) The numbers on the map are exactly where the store is. (i.e. 17 – N.T. Williamson Real Estate LTD is just a bit past Kipling Ave.).

I hope this helps!


Arjun Kay

P.S. Make sure to click on the image to get a larger view. The image will appear in a new window.

Humber Lakeshore Map and Legend

Home Away From Home

1 –  Printing. Copies. Fax

Computer Rental/Resume/ College Books for less

2 – Just Sushi


3 – Mon Lee’s Variety

Convenience Store

4 – Pizza and Wings


5 – Ghazele

Middle Eastern Food

6 – Blue Lagoon

Sports Bar and Grill (Karaoke every Friday and Saturday)

7 – Nails

Beauty Salon

8 – Mobilicity Telehut


9 – Subway


10 – H and R Block


 11 – Tatsuis Bread


12 – Diarda

Pizza and wings

13 – Unicare Pharmacy


14 – Lakeshore West Medical and Profressional Centre


15 – Eye Candy Opcticals


16 – Humber Fashion Institute


17 – N.T. Williamson Real Estate LTD

Real Estate

18 – North Sails

Sales and Service Loft

19 – Economical Movers


20 – Yalla Café

Middle Eastern Eatery and Pastery

21 – Hope of Church

Deliverance Ministers

22 – Golden Touch

Building Maintanance

23 – Aqua – Nails and Spa

Beauty Salon

24 – AmeriSpecs

Inspection Services

25 – Minute Muffler and Brakes


26 – Williams Coffee Pub


27 – Father John Redmond

Catholic School and Regional Arts Centre

28 – Ken Cox Community Centre

Attached to school

AN – Humber Centre for Justice Leadership


Park – Wide grounds to sit and relax

Can Bike, Picnic, Walk Pets

My City. My Toronto. My Home

Every Wednesday from the middle of July to the end of August, the city of Toronto plays host to an event called Fresh Wednesdays. Come down to Nathan Phillips Square (between Queen St. W and Dundas St. W on Bay St) to enjoy a whole array of great eats that come off the grill, pan or fryer from 8:00 AM till 2:

00 PM. Nathan Phillips Square – which is where City Hall is located – is converted into a Farmer’s Market where many local farmers showcase their products in their own individual stalls. Many stalls also offer food made with their own ingredients. A person sat beside me to enjoy some Tamale she just bought at one of the many stalls while her friend ate some roasted corn on the cob. If you are a person who loves organic foods or just vegetables and fruits that are grown locally, this is the place for you.

If food is not your interest or you happened to just run into it and had no money to buy anything, have no fear. There is live music that runs from 8:00 AM to 2:00 PM to give company to the many farmers, tourists, and visitors. The music is played by local artists who are making a place for themselves step by step. The live music is fantastic and very different from what is usually heard around us.  When I went on August 18th, we had Sundar Duo playing for us; they played Jazz/World Music. The best part about the music – other than the fact that it is live and local – is that it is free! That’s right, great music for free is an incentive in itself to get up and get to Nathan Phillips Square. On August 25th, the last day of Fresh Wednesday, there is a group by the name of PoetiKs, and they are going to take us into the world of Spoken Word – one of my favourite genres.

To top things off, the weather was perfect. The sun was shining brightly with a clear blue sky dotted with wisps of thin clouds. As I sat down on one of the many benches surrounding the Nathan Phillips Square fountain, I could not help but sit down and look at everything around me. The stage was off to the right along with the Farmer’s Market and the two city hall buildings that towered over the grounds. Behind me was the busy Bay St. and to my left was the bustling Queen St. W. Across me, many drakes and ducks waded around the Nathan Phillips Square fountain creating tiny ripples on the surface.

Sitting there, I observed the many people were tapping their feet while in line for some food, or they were having conversations with the farmers about the produce. Many tourists walked around with a Tillie hat, a camera slung around their neck, and a plateful of food, or struck poses using the City Hall or the fountain as a back drop. The air was full of languages other than English – some people spoke in French, Italian, or Spanish, while others in Mandarin, Cantonese and even Korean! It was great to sit in the middle of it all and to absorb it all. Toronto is truly a Cultural Mosaic indeed.

There is always something going on around us. All we have to do is go around and look for them – of if you are like me, unexpectedly stumble upon them. God only knows the amount of knowledge one can learn just by walking around and spending some time in the place they call home.

By: Arjun Kay

Anniversary Surprise

The road crunched beneath the tires of the old sedan. Even though it was a November day, the air was windless and somewhat chilly but it was bearable. Robert and Bertha were on their way back home from their thirty-second wedding anniversary banquet.

“You know, I know that I am fifty-four and all that, but I still feel like I am twenty tonight.” Said Robert slyly, and gave his wife Bertha a side glance. Bertha looked at him and giggled like she was eighteen years old again – although she, herself was fifty-three.

They were driving on the country side roads where the roads were barely ever snow ploughed. The road was home to no vehicles other than those of the many farmers’ tractors and the occasional driver who was leaving the city, and entering the suburbs. The snow on the road became a rough layer of ice due to all the weight and pressure applied by the rolling tires.

They knew that there was nothing to greet them for miles, “Bob dear, can we stop here please?” Bertha asked innocently. Looking outside the window, Bertha was mesmerized by the nature. Her head was so close to the window that her every breath fogged up the glass. Her eyes wide open; trying to take in every minute detail possible.

“It’s ten minutes to get home; can’t it wait till then?” Robert asked tiredly. Eating, drinking, and dancing for hours at a stretch can do that to someone. Even though Robert was not willing to accept that he was aging, all signs indicated otherwise. His once jet black hair now streaked with silver, and his once flat stomach was now somewhat of a baseball pitcher’s mound. None the less, Robert kept himself busy by walking every day, doing yoga, and Pilates. Bertha on the other hand, accepted that she is somewhat old, however that never stopped her from trying to look pretty and keep her shape. She joined Robert in his daily excursions and yoga sessions. She was slim and fit however, she looked a couple of years older than she actually was because of all those years in the police force that were slowly catching up to her.

Bertha was persistent, “Please Honey, just park over there. Right there, at the foot of that bridge.” Bertha seemed to be hypnotized by the nature, “I want to walk over there and enjoy the beauty.” Robert could not blame her. They might as well have turned off their headlights. The light from the full moon reflected off the snow and it was just beautiful.

“Very well, but we have to hurry up and get home as soon as we can. We both have a lot to do when we get home.” Once again, Robert smiled sneakily.

The car came to a slow halt at the base of the bridge, “Stay in the car for a moment.” instructed Robert. He got out of the car, ran quickly to the other side, opened her door, and held out his hand. Giggling again, Bertha held onto his out stretched hand and pulled herself out of the car very smoothly and gracefully. He closed the door behind her and escorted her to the bridge. The bridge arched upwards and gave them a magnificent view of the river, the trees, and the star struck night sky. The moment they reached the top of the bridge and looked out, and they knew they were going to be a while and suddenly, neither Bertha nor Robert seemed to mind the cold.

So engrossed in the beauty of the nature, they did not seem to notice a dark car silently coming down silently along the same road. The mysterious car stopped at the bridge, right by the couple’s sedan. Very quickly and expertly, the passenger’s door of the dark car opened, someone got out, and got into the couple’s sedan. Since the keys were already in the ignition of the sedan, the car instantly came to life and it seemed that the roar of the engine snapped Robert and Bertha out of their trance and back into reality. As they looked at their car, both cars started to speed away. Robert panicked as he realized that even if he was an Olympic runner (and he was far from that), he could not have reached the car. All he could do was watch as the two cars sped away into the night. Soon, the tail lights were just specks in the distance, and then, the darkness in the distance seemed to have devoured them.

Every expression Robert felt was reflecting on his face; from confusion, to rage, to guilt. He was really worried now. Quickly thinking, Bertha said, “Don’t worry. They can’t leave town until morning and by then, we would have obviously gotten home.” She wrapped her hands around his upper arm, “We don’t have to stress over it. I know the license plate number. I can pull a few cop strings.” Robert found very little refuge in her words.

They were going to have to walk home, “I left everything in there. The car keys, the cell phones, your purse, everything!” Robert felt guiltier than ever.

“Don’t worry honey, nothing will happen and we will find the people who did it.”

As they started to walk, they grew very silent. Their hands found each other’s and their fingers embraced the other’s. The frost appeared and disappeared in every breath as they continued down the straight road. Even though their car was stolen, Bertha could not help but ask Robert “Does this,” she flailed her arms around her to indicate she meant her surroundings, “remind you of anything?”

Robert – being a retired fire marshal – was a real thinker. Thinking for a couple of seconds, he replied by saying, “Yeah, that grand theft auto case you busted. You know the one I’m talking about? The one with the guy and the other guy and those cars.”

Although she was slightly amused by the answer, she shook her head rather vigorously, “No silly! Doesn’t it remind you of our wedding day?” Then it hit him. He threw his head back and gave out a hearty laugh and she joined in. They laughed so hard that they got stomach cramps and tears flowed from their eyes.

Bertha imagined the long road as the walk toward the altar. The seemingly endless journey that – after what seemed like ages – came to an abrupt stop. The trees surrounding them were transformed into the people who were standing on either side of the aisle. Beaming at her as she walked by, admiring her beauty.

The noises emerging from the thickets of the woods were no longer hooting, howling, and clicking sounds, but hushed whispers of the people complimenting her on her beauty, and wishing her luck as she walked past them.

The light flurry of snow was no more a problem to Bertha. The weightless little snowflakes were changed into a light flurry of petals that fell to the floor gently and seamlessly as the flower girls threw them in the air, as if they were setting a trail of bread crumbs for her to follow. To top things of (in a literal sense), the full moon was the chandelier that illuminated the whole room, and the twinkling stars were the smaller lights that chased away any remaining shadows.

All Robert could think about was how pretty Bertha looked in her wedding dress as she walked down that aisle. Her flowing blond hair had smooth gentle curls. Her grey eyes were accentuated by the white gold jewelry and lips so red that he was tempted to skip the I do’s and get right to the “you may now kiss the bride.”

As Bertha and Robert were going down the Memory Lane step by step and memory by memory, they soon approached their own home that was on Reminiscence Drive. Each house on the street was bigger and better than it’s preceding home. Since their house was at the end of the street, one could only imagine how grand their home was.

They had the money; after all, Robert used to be one of the best fire marshals around, and Bertha used to be the head honcho of the Forensics and Evidence department. That was, how they met in the first place. Back when Robert was a firefighter like any other and Bertha a cop like any other, they both met at a crime scene. A pyromaniac tried to burn down an abandoned factory for the pleasure of it. Robert put out the fire and Bertha caught the culprit.

Both units decided to go to the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts as a celebration. Robert met Bertha there and they kept on meeting. Since that day on, they were boyfriend and girlfriend till the day they became husband and wife.

The warm and hearty feeling was only short-lived. As they approached their house – rather, a mansion – they noticed that the porch and driveway lights were on. Still hand in hand, Robert and Bertha stopped in front of their house. There were two cars in the drive way. One was the couple’s sedan. “AWBE 029”, Bertha whispered as she looked at the dark car – the same car from which the thief got out. It did not take a genius to realize that if they knew where the couple lived, then they were dangerous. They both shivered and it had nothing to do with the cold.

“Bob, let’s get out of here.”

“Yeah, we can take our car and get to the police station.”

“Maybe we should call Mark and Joe. The can get here from the banquet. Right?”

As if on cue, two doors opened. One belonged to the sedan, and the other to the mysterious car. Two men in their mid-to-late twenties got out.

“M-M-Mark… Joe?” Bertha was confused beyond wit. She was looking from one to the other.

“Happy anniversary lovebirds,” the two sons said in unison, “did you have a nice and romantic walk?”

For a moment or so, no one moved until all four started laughing and hugged each other till they were all tangled up like a ball of yarn. “Wait,” said Robert, “of you two are here, then who is taking care of the guests at the banquet?”

There was pin drop silence.

By: Arjun Kay

Graphic Art

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Other than poetry and writing fiction, I do like visual and graphic art. Although I am not that great, I do try. Above are some of my Graphic Arts Collection.

The picture of the eye (with the blue iris) was found on the internet. Using Photoshop, I changed it from a regular eye, to something that looks a little bit more evil.

The picture of the beer mug with the grey background, I found on Google. I took that rather plain and boring mug and re-vamped it with a playful, new background and gave it a teasing and luring caption which reads “go ahead… give it a try”. Giving it some smoke added a really cool effect to it.

Now, the black and white eye is one of the best things I have probably ever created. Using nothing other than the often neglected program Microsoft Paint, I created something that looks very realistic. Using mostly the spray can and adjustable lines (similar to the pen tool in Photoshop) I created something that looks sketched.

The black and white mouth was made using the default Microsoft Paint as well. Playing around with the lighting effects gives it an almost 3-D effect. One thing I would change if I could would be to make the base colour a little lighter. By the time I realized that, it was too late. None the less, it came out better than i thought it would.

We end this collection off with a beautiful silhouette of palm trees and grass in the setting sun. I made this using Microsoft Paint as well. This whole piece consisted of mostly two tools. The first one is the spray can tool, and the other one is the paint bucket tool. As a child, I always made scenic views with two hills, a river coming through the valley, near my dream home. This was a different take to it. This summer, I did not travel psychically, but as one can see, I was mentally in Paradise!


Arjun Kay

(Sit Down. Kick Back. Relax. Open your mind).

A Recipe for Disaster

A dash of yelling.

A pinch of frustration.

A spoonful of showing off,

and the zest of contradiction.

 A healthy helping of false hope

and a cup of over confidence.

Before throwing in the twigs of

disappointment, tie them with some rope.

Achieve a raging boil,

and then toss in a sprig of mistrust

To get the perfect dish of family problems.

Serve over a bed of clashing egos

To make the perfect Family Problem Mash-up

Paper and Pencil


Flimsy, thin

Tearing, crumpling, littering

Colourful, confetti… smudges, shavings

Writing, drawing, creating

Rigid, hard


By: Arjun Kay

Happily Never After

I have this feeling for you,

Oh, ‘tis so pure.

Every time I see you,

This indescribable emotion rushes though my veins, replacing my blood.

You are a good friend, but I have a lot of those.

I want you to be more,

Every time you turn away, my heart grows sore.

After openly confessing to you my thought, everything

Has changed, turned for the worst, and hit a dead end.

Now these desires are lost and confused – led astray,

Like a sheep separated from its flock.

Every time you walk away, my heart aches.

I sit here now, all alone, just wondering –

Could things have turned out any differently?

By: Arjun Kay

Glass Box

Standing there – silent like

the windless night. Just watching

my every action with no expression;

or so it seems. Masked behind

a layer of make-up with the

black tears to add a nice touch,

you just stand there.

Standing inside the glass box

you have put yourself in –

away from all society. Why

should I rescue you if I

know I get nothing in return?

You are just going to put yourself

in your little glass box again.

By: Arjun Kay

Poetry on a Full Stomach

I am very full

Because I just saw my friend


By: Arjun Kay

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