Story of a Soldier

A story is told about a soldier who was finally coming home after having fought in Vietnam. He called his parents from San Francisco.

"Mom and Dad, I'm coming home, but I've a favor to ask. I have a friend I'd like to bring home with me."
"Sure," they replied, "we'd love to meet him."
"There's something you should know the son continued, "he was hurt pretty badly in the fighting. He stepped on a land mind and lost an arm and a leg. He has nowhere else to go, and I want him to come live with us."
"I'm sorry to hear that, son. Maybe we can help him find somewhere to live."
"No, Mom and Dad, I want him to live with us."
"Son," said the father, "you don't know what you're asking. Someone with such a handicap would be a terrible burden on us. We have our own lives to live, and we can't let something like this interfere with our lives. I think you should just come home and forget about this guy. He'll find a way to live on his own."
At that point, the son hung up the phone. The parents heard nothing more from him. A few days later, however, they received a call from the San Francisco police. Their son had died after falling from a building, they were told. The police believed it was suicide. The grief-stricken parents flew to San Francisco and were taken to the city morgue to identify the body of their son. They recognized him, but to their horror they also discovered something they didn't know, their son had only one arm and one leg.

The parents in this story are like many of us. We find it easy to love those who are good-looking or fun to have around, but we don't like people who inconvenience us or make us feel uncomfortable. We would rather stay away from people who aren't as healthy, beautiful, or smart as we are. Thankfully , there's someone who won't treat us that way. Someone who loves us with an unconditional love that welcomes us into the forever family, regardless of how messed up we are.

Finally,
Dont strew me with roses after i'm dead, when death claims the light of my brow, no flowers of life will cheer me - instead you may give me my roses now.. :)

ONE WORD

During my first interview in London

‘Describe yourself in one word’, she said, as she stared at me with a warm but pushy smile. I never understood the purpose of these exercises. Especially didn't understand why we all had to sit in a circle exposing ourselves to the judging and inquisitive eyes of each and every person in the group. Isn't that the exact opposite of why I came here? To disappear? To be invisible? Just a face?


I heard about this strange group from a friend of mine who studied theatre. It was a group where you could just show up with a fake name, a fake life, a fake personality but very real problems and discuss them with complete strangers. ‘No specifics’, the group was called. How apt. I was told about it several years ago, found it very odd and useless at the time but had stowed it away in my memory for some reason completely unknown to me. It wasn't until several weeks after yet another failed love that the foggy memory of this group started piecing itself together in my mind. And before I knew it I was in the basement of an annoyingly multi-coloured building on the corner of a street whose walls were covered with graffiti and posters of RnB and Hip-hop parties.

‘Sonu? One word?’ she said again, the warmth of her pushy smile now spreading to her voice. ‘Urm, Indian?’ I asked unsure of what to say. ‘Come on, you can do better than that.’ I can do better than that. Really? How would she know? She doesn't even know my real name. ‘Give it a go. Don’t think too much. Just say the first word that comes to mind.’ So completely uncharacteristically I closed my eyes and waited to hear an inner-voice telling me what I was in one word. And without so much as a second chance, before my mind had the time to register what I was about to say, before I could stop myself and think about the word that was about to spew from my lips and stick on the walls, spill on the floors, fly out of the open windows into the world from where I could never ever take it back... out it came... my one word... “Puppy.”

“Hmm, puppy. Interesting. Why do you think that word describes you best?” she asked.

I don’t know what it was about this moment, why I had such clarity and such a profound need to share it with these complete strangers, but I started talking and sharing things even I was unaware of.

“I guess it’s because I am. I am a pathetic little puppy. Always needing attention and love. Always needing to be taken care of. Always falling in love with every woman who shows me even a little bit of affection. Always desperately in love. Letting them own me, put hands around my neck and take me for a ride. Letting them claim me. I'm pathetic. A lonely little puppy.” Like a waterfall my tears and my words came cascading out of me. And my feelings came bouncing to the surface like a buoy that refused to stay underwater.

I don’t know how long I sat on that chair for sobbing away. It felt like a few seconds but I know it was much longer because I couldn't see the sunlight outside any more and I had goose bumps from the chill that was sneaking in through the half closed windows. But for however long it was, those nameless strangers were there for me. Loving me. Giving me a little bit of their time. Just like they would to a lonely stray puppy on the corner of a street.

Let me love you one day at a time

Let me love you one day at a time, and please love me that very same way. We may never learn all there is to know about love, but every day together will teach us a little more about ourselves and the special kind of happiness we can bring to each other. One of the best things you've helped me learn is that love starts with being honest, speaking straight from how we really feel. I like how we've opened doors, and windows of our lives and invited each other to come in, look around and get acquainted. The more I'm with you, the more at home I feel. Let me love you one day at a time.



Why talk about "always" and say things we're not sure we mean, when we can talk about today and mean exactly what we say. Let's think of each sunrise as a fresh start, a brand new beginning... and try to fill each day with as much love as it can hold. I know you're not always going to be exactly the same person Sunday through Saturday, January through December, and neither am I. We both need laughing times and crying times... and time for every mood in between. The important thing is that you can be the kind of you that feels most natural and that I can be my most favourite kind of me. That's what makes us so comfortable together... it's also what keeps us from taking too much for granted. Let me love you one day at a time.



Let's not wonder how long love will last but how beautiful we can make it grow. Let's give our best to each other but, let's never expect miracles of our love. There's no need to... the reality of you and me is better than all the impossible dreams and fantasies I've ever imagined. Being with you is feeling proud, blessed, grateful for each hour we share. Let me love you, not according to any how-to-book, or by someone else's set of rules... but simply for who you are and how you are with me. And please love me, not for what I might be moulded into, but for what I am here and now. Don't expect me to be someone all good and all giving, someone who could never disappoint you... someone to right to be real and too perfect to be me. I'm just as human as anyone I know... and very thankful that you are too. Let's try to remember that love means keeping in touch with each other's thoughts and feelings... listening not just to words, but to the emotions behind them... seeing, not just the smiles and frowns but the hurt and pleasures that cause them.



Let me love you one day at a time, starting today. Let's have the courage to try to change whatever needs changing about us, and wisdom to know what should never be changed. Believing in ourselves and in our ability to handle whatever tomorrow brings... and trusting that this love we share will continue to grow stronger as the future years unfold... One Beautiful Day At A Time.

LAUGHTER

She laughed a contrived, awkward laugh. She knew very well the difference between humour and scorn. She was trying to ignore the greasy smell of cynicism that wafted from his words. But her laughter, however untrue, only encouraged him. He jubilantly continued to mock her beliefs, her faith, her family, her life, everything she considered herself to be made of and she just swallowed her anger and pride and laughed. He felt powerful, like a bully pushing a child half his size to the ground and repeatedly kicking her in the chest while she shielded herself with her hands knowing that neither mercy nor refuge would ever come. Except he used his words to put her down and she used her laughter to protect herself. That was the only purpose her laughter had now. To protect her. She never used her lips to smile, never used them to kiss, hardly ever to eat and even less to speak. But laugh she did. The repercussions of silence in front of him were far too loud. His incessant screaming hurt her too much. They made the kind of scars that couldn't be seen, the kind that couldn't be used as proof. When on several occasions she had tried to share the invisible violence she faced, it only made everyone think she complained too much and that was even worse to bear than the abuse she got from him. So she stayed silent to the world and laughed only for him... The sad thing about pretending is that if you do it long enough, everybody will start believing you. The tragic thing about pretending is that if you do it long enough, even you will start believing yourself. She had played along for so long now that everyone, including herself, thought she was happy. So when they found her body swaying gently in her bedroom with one end of the rope around her neck and the other around her ceiling fan, they called it a tragedy... not murder. Just like I do, ending with small poem

When life seems low after you’ve given it your all and
when people you love don’t help you when you fall if they’re the reason you’re sad
and you fret baby, don’t let it get to you.
Don’t regret. you stand by them
when they need you that’s what makes you who you are if they choose to bail
when you’re just a little frail it’s a pity they don’t see right through you they’re unlucky and really stupid!
Its not fair they don’t cherish you Cause if they knew what a gold mine they had around them
They’d dig you just like I do!
All these boyfriends, lovers and men you got And I’m still here to take your tears away
Just now,

its from across the miles!

Its easy to joke on a Sardar, but It's too difficult to be a Sardar

I was standing at jalandhar station when my attention went towards a Sikh youth standing near me wearing a Black turban having a long beard and wearing a kirpan over his shirt.
.....<>
After a while, one local train arrived, which was totally packed. The Sikh youth tried to alight the train but failed to do
so. Just then a voice was heard from the back coach 'Sardarji Barah Baj gaye' (Sir it's 12 o'clock!)

The Sikh youth looked over at that voice maker who was a young Mischievous type of person and instead of showing any anger made a smile towards him.

The smile made was so enigmatic that it seemed as if some type of truth lies behind it. Not able to resist my temptation, I walked towards him and asked why did he smile at that person who teased him.

The Sikh youth replied, 'He was not teasing me but was asking for my Help'. I was surprised with these words and he told me that there was a big history behind that which one should know. I was eager to know the History and the Sikh youth narrated:

During 17th Century, when Hindustan was ruled by Mughals, all the Hindu people were humiliated and were treated like animals. Mughals treated the Hindu women as there own property and were forcing all Hindus to accept Islam and even used to kill the people if they were refusing to accept.That time, our ninth Guru, Sri Guru Teg Bahadarji came forward, in response to a request of some Kashmir Pandits to fight against all these cruel activities.

Guruji told the Mughal emperor that if he could succeed in converting him to Islam, all the Hindus would accept the same. But, if he failed, he should stop all those activities. The Mughal emperor happily agreed to that but even after lots of torture to Guruji and his fellow members he failed to convert him to Islam and Guruji along with his other four fellow members, were tortured and sacrificed their lives in Chandni Chowk. Since the Mughals were unable to convert them to Islam they were assassinated.

Thus Guruji sacrificed his life for the protection of Hindu religion.

Can anybody lay down his life and that too for the protection of another religion?
This is the reason he is still remembered as "Hind Ki Chaddar", shield of India. For the sake of whom he had sacrificed his life, none of them came forward to lift his body, fearing that they would also be assassinated.

Seeing this incident our 10th Guruji, Sri Guru Gobind Singhji (Son of Guru Teg Bahadarji) founder of khalsa made a resolution that he would convert his followers to such human beings who would not be able to hide themselves and could be easily located in thousands. At the start, the Sikhs were very few in numbers as they were fighting against the Mughal emperors. At that time, Nadir Shah raided Delhi in the year 1739 and looted Hindustan and was carrying lot of Hindustan treasures and nearly 2200 Hindu women along with him. The news spread like a fire and was heard by Sardar Jassa Singh who was the Commander of the Sikh army at that time. He decided to attack Nadir Shah's Kafila on the same midnight. He did so and rescued all the Hindu women and they were safely sent to their homes.

It didn't happen only once but thereafter whenever any Abdaalis or Iranis had attacked and looted Hindustan and were trying to carry the treasures and Hindu women along with them for selling them in Abdal markets, the Sikh army although fewer in numbers but were brave hearted and attacked them at midnight, 12 O'clock and rescued women.

After that time when there occurred a similar incidence, people started to contact the Sikh army for their help and Sikhs used to attack the raider's at Midnight, 12 O'clock. Nowadays, these "smart people" and some Sikh enemies who are afraid of Sikhs, have spread these words that at 12 O'clock, the Sikhs go out of their senses. This historic fact was the reason which made me smile over that person as I thought that his Mother or Sister would be in trouble and wants my help and was reminding me by saying off 'Sardarji Barah Baj Gaye'.

do forward this message to all ur friends so they can know about sikh history & its a humble appeal... sikh DHARAM WARGA KOI DHARAM NAHI TE NAHI HONA AA...

PAST, PRESENT, FUTURE

Bits and pieces of a long gone past
Taped together somehow.
Floating into an unknown future
Did I ever exist in the now?

Akin spirits lost just like me
Forming what I call my life.
Slaves of routine, aimlessness
Marching to the fife.

What am I then, if I don’t live in the present?
Waiting for each moment to be gone?
Waking up to find that my life’s lost and over
Passing over dejected and forlorn.

Sometimes I wonder what I’ve been doing
How did I end up here?
From a carefree child to a complicated adult
I soared so fast it’s a blur.

If only I could unscrew my mind!
Open it to move things around!
Figure out how that damn thing works,
So I can retrace how I got to my now.

“Don’t live in the past, don’t fret over the future
Live each moment as it comes!”
Whoever said that is either very happy
Or to the sadness has already succumbed.


Because I try my best, to do my best.
But the past somehow catches up with me.
Leaving me stressed,
Completely depressed,
Until I can no more believe.

I have these moments when I’m happy and smiling,
What the world seems to know me by.
Fooling them all! And sometimes myself
Locking up what’s really inside.

That’s how I interact and communicate with others.
With a barrier that I cant seem to break.
But I’m trying, and this writing is an attempt,
To destroy in me all that is fake.

Nothing is impossible

Who said India is lacking behind. Here is the example.

Govind Jaiswal IAS!


Govind Jaiswal, 24, the son of an uneducated
rickshaw puller in Varanasi, had
grown up with cruel taunts like
‘However much you study, you will still
be a rickshawpuller.’ He had studied
with cotton stuffed in his ears to drown the noise of printing machines and
generators below his window in a poor
neighbourhood where small workshops
existed cheek by jowl with tiny
residential quarters.

He had given Math tuitions to
supplement the paltry sum his father
could afford to send him each month.
His ailing father had sold a small plot of
land to give Govind about Rs 40,000 so
that he could move to Delhi which would provide him a better place to
study.

Throughout his life, he had lived with
only one dream — to become an officer
of the Indian Administrative Service. For
him that was the only way. And when
he broke the news to his family, that he
was ranked 48 among 474 successful candidates in his first attempt at the
exam — it was the turn of his three
sisters and father to weep with
unbridled joy.

Icould not afford to have any other
career goal. My life would have been
absolutely futile had I not made it into
the civil services,” says Govind, just back
from his medicals in New Delhi,
mandatory for the IAS.

“You must understand that my
circumstances were such that besides
the Civil Services, I had no option. I
didn’t have much of a chance with
lower government jobs because they
are mostly fixed, neither could I start a business because I had no money. The
only thing I could do was work hard at
my studies.”

It was almost impossible for him to
study in the one room he shared with
his family. To add to his woes was the
power cut that extended between 10
and 14 hours every day. The moment
the lights went out, he had to shut the window to block out the deafening
noise of generators in the many
workshops around his home.

So in search for a quiet place to study,
he briefly shared a friend’s room at the
Banaras Hindu University. Since that did
not help him much, he did what many
civil services aspirants in northern India
do — he moved to New Delhi.

Working for ten years at the
government ration shop, Narayan
earned a living by weighing goods at
the store. One day when the shop shut
down, he bought one rickshaw and
hired it out. He added three more and at one time was prosperous enough to
own about 36 rickshaws.

On his meager earnings, the uneducated
rickshaw vendor with a hearing
disability continued the education of his
children. The girls were married after
their graduation — Narayan sold two
pieces of land for the weddings, the last plot was sold to achieve his Govinda’s
dream.

Narayan gave his son Rs 40,000 to
prepare for his Civil Services exam in
New Delhi and pursue his childhood
dream of becoming an IAS officer. For
the next three years, he sent his son
between Rs 2,500 and Rs 3,000 every month, sometimes foregoing the
expense of treating the septic wound in
his foot that continues to nag him till
today.

Outside his narrow lane, opposite the
Varanasi City railway station, where
Narayan Jaiswal parks his rickshaws
and spends most of his waking hours,
he still walks barefooted with a
bandage, one end hanging loose and scraping the dirty road.

“Beyond this year, my father could not
have afforded to send Govind any more
money. It was getting very tough for
him. Govind was earning Rs 1,500 from
tuitions, I don’t know what he would
have done if he didn’t make it to the IAS this year. My father could not sleep
for 10 days before the results came,”
says Govind’s eldest sister Nirmala,
whose son is almost the same age as
her brother.

Until now, courier delivery boys found
his house with great difficulty but now
even the fruit cart-wallah, one-and-a-
half kilometres away, will tell you
where the ‘IAS’ house is...

Hatsoff to both

Lead with an example for change you want to see.

Long Live India

A DYING BREED

I am 28 years old and I am growing up in a world of extremism. A rapidly growing outlet for anger has changed from exchanging of a few harsh words and holding of collars to a bullet. The only noticeable expression of a comfortable life has changed from healthy meals and shopping sprees once a month to setting up camp in malls, at least 3 cars for the two members of your family and an Armani wrist watch on your hand. The Jeans are getting shorter, the tops are getting lower, TV screens are getting bigger and religion no more echoes faith in anything larger than life but has become a business. The more we move towards the glowing light emitting from dollar bills and pounds, the blinder we are becoming to the littered streets of our nation. The more we get hypnotized by the sound of gold coins clinking together, the deafer we are to the voices of the poor. Money is no more a medium of payment to buy and sell goods. Instead, it has become a pass to neglect morality, social responsibility, law, heck even traffic lights. A pass “GUARANTEED BY THE CENTRAL GOVERNMENT” in case you have any legal reservations and stamped with Gandhiji’s smiling face on it in case you have any moral reservations. The world is tumbling into a pit of chaos and there is no gravity defying superhero in sight to save us.

But there is hope. And the realization of this hope can only come if people my age listen. Listen, learn and rectify. It seems as though the new parents, those in between the generation that my parents belong to and the generation I belong to, have relinquished responsibility and left parenting up to televisions and computers. Boundaries that are important to maintain a healthy growing atmosphere are becoming blurred because parents push their children to extremes to help them keep up with the extremism. In keeping up with school, extra tuition, football classes, dance classes, swimming classes, art classes, birthdays and endless banal social obligations, the time for parents to discipline and germinate a conscience in their children has disappeared. And it took the entire breed of distinguished parents who truly understood how to raise responsible human beings along with it.

But there is still hope. The hope is with you and me. Spend time with your children when you have them. Remember their birthdays because you’re happy they were born and not because it is an opportunity to flaunt your money by throwing a party. Buy them what they need, even occasionally what they want; don’t buy them everything. Don’t be embarrassed by their public tantrums and give in to their every demand. When they get their first job, don’t ask about the pay. Instead, pop down to Archie's and buy them a card. Don’t be afraid to hurt their feelings if you’re doing it for their own good. Give them pocket money not blank cheques. And most importantly, remember everything your parents did while raising you that annoyed you the most, and do it. They were the ones trying to salvage the dying breed. So listen to them, learn from them and then perhaps we can rectify the extremism we’re living in.

When stories end

Like a small piece of land in the middle of an ocean
my heart’s sinking in the sea.
My arms flailing bout,
there’s not a shadow of doubt
I’m about to sink beneath.

I’m screaming in sorrow, I’m screaming in pain.
There’s no one around to hear.
All the pretty friendly fishes
turning into shark-like witches,
Feeding off my primal fear.

It’s the fear that consumes me, the fear that destroys
A fear chilling to the bone.
Colder than the icy waters
in which my heart slowly flutters –
It’s the fear of being alone.

I can hear your fake cackling echoing in your hollow soul.
Our friendship mortified.
My heart can’t grow gills
In anger it wills
that our friendship dies.

I guess it’s the same sadness, the very same fear,
that forces you to be one of them.
Selfish and conniving.
Lying and depraving.
I think its time for the end to begin.

It seems I always break silences with poems

I've been writing in my own journal lately, filling it with my thoughts. I don't know if it's more selfish not to share my thoughts or to share them without being absolutely sure they're accurate. I don't know. Anyway, I wrote a poem tonight inspired by my own thoughts coupled with Donald Miller's newest book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. In it he talks about the idea that we remember those things that are exciting or different or the days we went the extra mile to make special. I don't remember a lot of my past. I wonder if it's because I've lived a really boring life. Comfortable, yes. But boring. I've dreamed of living an exciting life. I have all these visions of what I would have done if I was one of those people who live life in real boldness. Anyway, that's what the poem's about, and I thought I could share this.

I want to live it out loud,
Drink in deep.
Remember the times we waited
For the world to fall asleep
Then we ran, farther than allowed
Knee deep in darkness,
Drowning in life
Hoping we weren't dreaming
Under this glittering sky.

Oh, I can’t remember.
I can’t remember.
Maybe it slipped away from my grip
But I know that if I wander too far I will trip
Into that memory, as false at as it is,
Fabricated in a desperate half-attempt to live.
Boring, it’s so boring.
I’ve forgotten it all,
No real memories to hold on too
So into false ones I fall.

Standing up, standing out.
Blacktop gleaming, wetness stenching.
Rain dripping, dropping, drenching.
Tongue out, unashamed.
Washed by the holy springtime rain.
Remember when we danced in the streets?
No shoes, no worries, no thought of the memories we’d create.
Oh, how we laughed and cried as we sang
Hands outstretched, scolding the rain
As it fell and splashed in our mouth.
Such beauty we became as we danced in nature’s well.
Rebirthed, restirred, renamed.

Oh, I can’t remember.
I can’t remember.
Maybe it slipped away from my grip
But I know that if I wander too far I will trip
Into that memory, as false at as it is,
Fabricated in a desperate half-attempt to live.
Boring, it’s so boring.
I’ve forgotten it all,
No real memories to hold on too
So into false ones I fall.

So, Write me a story
Of meaning and truth.
Something more than this life stuck on mute.
Dear scribe, write me a song
Then let the sirens sing
And let me drink in that music
Let it sink in and sting
Till I’m drunk on the words,
And I crash this old boat.
Let my false memories burn in the back of my throat.
Cling to these rocks and pray for new life,
Speak to me hope in those beautiful words.
Then we’ll break from our cage, love,
And take flight like the birds.
We’ll break from this cage, love,
And take flight like the birds.

The Story of the Cliff

They’re tearing at me
Ghasty fingers crawl over my skin
Pulling.
“Come!” they cry
“We can fill that empty hole.”
Indeed there it is, where my heart should be there was a chasm
It was deep and the edges were sharp
Like it had been carelessly carved out
I put my hand to my chest
And felt the emptiness,
The dark substance-lacking air that filled that space
And still the fingers pulled
Pricking and tugging
Pulling my hair, pinching my skin
And I wept.
In front of me stretched the edge of a cliff.
It looked terrifying. Black rock, red backdrop.
The bottom was clouded in darkness.
And it was away from the edge these fingers pulled me.
“Come!” they cry
“This is dangerous. We want to protect you.
Come where it is comfortable and your heart will be filled.”
Oh, the struggle within. The choice seemed so easy. But a haunting song seemed to call me forward to the edge. While the fingers pulled me back.
Forces clashing armor against armor inside of me,
No white horses verses black horses.
All the knights were dressed the same,
Wolves in sheep’s clothing
But I couldn’t tell who was who
And it raged
And my insides ached
I grew weary from the conflict,
Weary of the noises.
I wanted to silence it all,
The haunting song and the voices that beckoned me backward.
I began to shut myself down, like a flashlight out of battery.
I numbed myself to all.
The fight doesn’t seem worth it, I thought.
So I sat down.
The fingers still pricked, but I didn’t feel them.
The cliff still called but I didn’t listen.
I just sat.
And sat.
And sat.
And sat.
Until one day I rose my hand to my chest and felt the hole that had been carved
And I ran my fingers around the edge,
The sharp, jagged edges
And it pricked me
I drew back my finger and a drop of blood rose to the skin.
And I had a feeling,
A thought.
A remembrance of what is was like to live engaged in the world.
I remembered the pain and the beauty and hurt and the joy
And all at once my ears were opened again,
And the noises were deafening.
My eyes opened and the ground was shaking
The world had not stopped as I had supposed.
It raged on.
It was chaotic, overpowering.
The fingers tugged,
“Come,” they cried
“Where there is no pain. We can take you there.”
The sirens song rose up from the cliff’s edge.
And I shook at the experience of it all.
My body trembled.
I tried to throw off the hands that clutched me.
And I ran to the edge,
Staring down into what seemed like nothingness.
It was uncertainty.
Jumping surly meant death.
I leaned over,
The voices growing frantic behind me,
Beckoning me to retreat
“Come back!” they cried
“Come back!”
“Why should I do this?!” I yelled into the cavern.
“Why should I choose this? What will you do about this hole in my chest?!”
I sobbed, emotions of desperation, fury, and hope pulsed through my veins.
“What do you want from me?!” I cried.
The haunting melody drifted up from the cavern.
I realized for the first time that there were words interlaced in the song,
Why hadn’t I heard them before?
They sang this:
“Die to self, Oh beloved
And learn to live again
Nothing can fill that hole
Or completely heal the pain within.
But We too have holes,
In our hands and our side
We suffered for you
Come, oh Bride
Prepare yourself
For Our kingdom is near
It is not man,
But it is us you should fear.
We won’t take all your pain away
We won’t make you whole
Not in this life anyway,
Can We complete your soul.
But We came to you to feel your pain,
To make each tear our own
If you take a chance with us,
You will never be alone.
We forgive your fear and yours sin are washed
If you decide to come,
It is hard,
But it’s truth
So, jump, beloved one.”
No promise of ease
Or of my desires being fulfilled came from the song that echoed through the rocks.
The ghastly fingers gripped harder,
Their voices stronger.
“Come!” they cried,
“We have a place with no pain.
We have a place with no sorrow!
Come!”
“Liars!” I screamed
And I jumped.

Karma and Dharma- Hinduism

He is dancing inside this net that can not be torn out and escaped even by the strongest man.

If he closes all the doors and kills a person and disposes the body, he may escape from the punishments of law today. But, he will be caught in some other case and be punished twice the normal punishment for that offence. Because, he has done that crime under the laws of karma.

A person may speak like a pure leader and cheat the innocent people, and he may escape from the law that day. But, one day, he will be caught red handed and his real face will be shown to the outer world.

A person may get bribes and escapes from the punishments today. But, he will definitely be caught one day and the whole world will come to know about him. If he escapes in this birth, this karma will be carried out and he will be punished severely in his next birth.

A king consulted an astrologer who is very accurate in his predictions. The king asked how long he will live further.

The astrologer after calculation told that the king: “You will die next month on 5 th July at 7 am by being bitten by a snake as you killed a brahmana by throwing a snake inside his house in your last birth.”

The king got angry. He shouted: “If your predictions become wrong, I will severe your head from your body.. I will prove this fate as wrong and take yr head on 6th July.”

The king asked the servants to arrange a bed at the top empty terace of the palace and close all the doors and windows that gives way to the terrace. He also told them that not even an ant should come to the top floor on 5th july.

On 4 th july evening itself, he went to the empty terrace and lied on the bed closing all the entries to the terrace. He felt very safe that no snake can enter the top terrace. So, he peacefully slept.

Next morning, the king was still asleep at 7 am. In the sky, a Garuda was holding a cobra with its legs. When that Garuda came just above the terrace where the king was peacefully asleep, that snake escaped from Garuda’s hold and fell down exactly on that sleping king. As that snake was very angry being held by that garuda, it strongly bit that king. The king died exactly at 7 am.

Thus, even a king could not escape from the bad karma he did in his previous birth. What about us?

So, the people should never think that they can do anything within the closed walls deceiving others. Their concrete doors can not screen the eyes of the Laws Of Karma. Because, this network has been designed by God Himself to maintain dharma in the world.

One may deceive the people; But, he can not deceive the laws of the Lord. Because, he is tied with His laws that he is unable to realise.

Karma and Dharma the two dominant forces of Hinduism.

I want to be six again...

I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult. I have decided I would like to accept the responsibilities of a six year old again. I want to go to McDonald's and think that it's a four star restaurant. I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle and make ripples with rocks. I want to think M&Ms are better than money, because you can eat them. I want to play kickball during recess and paint with watercolors in art. I want to lie under a big oak tree and run a lemonade stand with my friends on a hot summers' day.
I want to return to a time when life was simple. When all you knew were colors, addition tables and simple nursery rhymes, but that didn't bother you, because you didn't know what you didn't know and you didn't care. When all you knew was to be happy because you didn't know all the things that should make you worried and upset. I want to think that the world is fair. That everyone in it is honest and good. I want to believe that anything is possible.

Somewhere in my youth...I matured and I learned too much. I learned of nuclear weapons, war, prejudice, starvation and abused children. I learned of lies, unhappy marriages, suffering, illness, pain and death. I learned of a world where men left their families to go and fight for our country, and returned only to end up living on the streets...begging for their next meal. I learned of a world where children knew how to kill...and did!!

What happened to the time when we thought that everyone would live forever, because we didn't grasp the concept of death? When we thought the worst thing in the world was if someone took the jump rope from you or picked you last for kickball? I want to be oblivious to the complexity of life and be overly excited by little things once again. I want to return to the days when reading was fun and music was clean. When television was used to report the news or for family entertainment and not to promote sex, violence and deceit. I remember being naive and thinking that everyone was happy because I was. I would walk on the beach and only think of the sand between my toes and the prettiest seashell I could find. I would spend my afternoons climbing trees and riding my bike. I didn't worry about time, bills or where I was going to find the money to fix my car. I used to wonder what I was going to do or be when I grew up, not worry about what I'll do if this doesn't work out.

I want to live simple again. I don't want my day to consist of computer crashes, mountains of paperwork, depressing news, how to survive more days in the month than there is money in the bank, doctor bills, gossip, illness and loss of loved ones. I want to believe in the power of smiles, hugs, a kind word, truth, justice, peace, dreams, the imagination, mankind and making angels in the snow.

I want to be six again.

Inspired by a Friend

He was running. But after the first several miles his head started to buzz, and he forgot what it was he was running from in the first place. He thought he was living the life that most average people only dream of, but he was slowly realizing that living there meant he had stopped dreaming altogether.

He loved her at first. He loved her for all the months they were together. And he loved her still, even though she claimed her affections were long since dead, buried in the memory keepsake box with all the drawings and love letters he’d written for her. He’d given her his soul, really. He trusted her to take care of it, but she broke it and broke it again and again every day they were apart. His chest alternated between burning with searing pain and then feeling nothing at all, numbed to everything, like a chair or an old sweater, something not human.

Where did it go wrong? he wondered. He often sat, thumbing through his memories of her like a beloved scrapbook album, one that has the edge of the pages worn since it’s been gone through so many times. Slowly, though, as he reached the end of the album, the facial expressions changed. Her beautiful smile became a frown, and his own adoring glances became possessive and desperate.

He loved her because she flitted, like a bird or a butterfly or something. Could never stay in one place too long. She was adventurous, with big dreams and big ideas, never settling for what had been handed to her by the world and never letting herself be forced into what people thought she should be. She was strong. Her eyes twinkled at the idea of new opportunity, and her laughter was like glitter thrown up into the wind. He always wondered how he was lucky enough to be the one standing close to her, letting the sparkles dance on his skin.

But there wasn’t any glitter anymore. The last remnants of sparkle were starting to flake off the skin on his arms. He was terrified that it might be gone forever. Fear. Fear of losing her. He’d lost so much, and she’d been hurt so much. He wasn’t going to let that happen again. At all costs he would protect her. At all costs he would protect the one thing left that he loved before it slipped away.

But he couldn’t protect her if she didn’t want to be near him. Stupid, he muttered to himself. He wanted forever, and she wanted a new adventure. He’d tried to tame the wild in her, to ground the lighting with himself as the rod, to love the thing that flitted without letting it flit away. Stupid, he muttered to himself.

It was all his fault. He’d stifled her. He’d tried to contain her. And she finally burst free, leaving him in shambles, the rodeo cowboy with a broken nose and black eye watching his beautiful black stallion race away with his hope at finally winning.

Winning what? At anything, really. Love. Winning at love. But you can’t win love. Ugh. He felt all jumbled up inside, like someone took all his insides, put them in blender, and made him swallow it again. He felt like throwing it all up.

He kept wondering how he’d gotten here. I mean, really it was the same scenery he’d always seen. Same dingy walls and quiet streets. But inside of himself he felt disjointed and lost among the familiar. He kept looking in the mirror, searching for some hint of identity in his eyes. But they felt hollow and dull and answerless.

He had no answers left for himself. He’d run out of ideas and excuses. He’d lost his identity because he put all of himself in her, and she’d done the same in him. She just realized it before he did and pulled the plug, claiming back what was herself. Now, it was his turn.

He tried to show her love. He tried to teach her love. But somewhere along the way he’d forgotten what love was. He was now the one who needed teaching. Oh, he had loved her, no doubt. But he now had to find what love looked like without her.

“You have persevered and have endured hardships for My name. Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken your first love. Remember the height from which you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first. If you do not repent, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place. He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says. To him who overcomes, I will give the right to eat from the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God.

Based on a True Story

I can’t do it.

I sit in the mall. I probably look like one of those crazy, reclusive types as I peep over my laptop every few seconds, watching the people traffic pass me by. Do you ever have those moments when you’re completely struck with the intricate significance of a human’s life, and yet simultaneously struck by our insignificance in it all? I can narrow in and watch one person. They have a life outside of this moment. They have a history and, presumably, a future. They have loved and they have been hurt and they have a totally different perspective on the world than I do. I wonder what that person could teach me. But then I zoom out again, and the face is lost. We are but one in the sea of humanity. I think it’s another one of those intended paradoxes of life.

The mall is full of gang wars. The cluster of teens coming out of Hot Topic, branded by their gang piercings and tattoos are in a social war with the kids across the street at Aeropostale, marked by their matching gang t-shirts. Their war is one of silence and sneers. Everyone is judged and measured. “Ignore them,” they say about the other. “Nothing good can come out of [Nazareth].”
The thought crosses my mind, “I wonder what we would look like stripped down of our adornments.” I make a face to myself, realizing that idea’s going to need a good explanation behind it. I just mean, how much of our identity is in our physical? A lot. What would happen if we were all lined up, stripped of our branded clothing, our piercings, our haircuts, our makeup, our phones, our cars, all our possessions? Who are you when all of that is gone? I have to admit that I’m not really sure. I’m not really sure. And that disturbs me.

I used to love this. The mall, I mean. I loved the atmosphere. I loved the materialism. I loved the judging. I wouldn’t have named those things as what I loved, but those are the words I ascribe in hindsight. My downfall has always been the material. As I sit here, watching the women walk by with their bags of newly purchased items, I realize I am not alone, and this anger rises within me against the world. The world that I loved. The world of fashion and marketing and beauty. As I sat at the foot court, I metaphorically spat on that world for betraying me. And then I realized that materialism is like sex. (What is up with these metaphors?) By that I mean (like I said in my Liquid Lust blog) it shouldn’t be a god to us, but it also shouldn’t be a demon. Materialism isn’t my enemy; it’s just a tool. I can’t hate it because that’s the easy way out. And that’s not truth seeking.

I don’t know how to approach the world anymore. I mean, in my head I sort of have an idea. It’s about serving people, the least of these. Loving, even when it means self-sacrifice and being obedient to the will of God, even when it means my dreams are shattered. Right now I feel like I’m standing in the midst of a broken window. Because I KNOW these things in my head, but applying them means a complete restructuring of my thoughts and my life.
Duh, right? But I’m good at the material, and I’m not so good at the serving. How do I use my talents to glorify God, then? How do these dreams and desires inside of me equate within the dreams and desires God has for my life? I just know I can’t spend my life perpetuating the cycle of materialism and physical obsession.

I can’t do it.

So now what?

When stories end

Like a small piece of land in the middle of an ocean
my heart’s sinking in the sea.
My arms flailing bout,
there’s not a shadow of doubt
I’m about to sink beneath.

I’m screaming in sorrow, I’m screaming in pain.
There’s no one around to hear.
All the pretty friendly fishes
turning into shark-like witches,
Feeding off my primal fear.

It’s the fear that consumes me, the fear that destroys
A fear chilling to the bone.
Colder than the icy waters
in which my heart slowly flutters –
It’s the fear of being alone.

I can hear your fake cackling echoing in your hollow soul.
Our friendship mortified.
My heart can’t grow gills
In anger it wills
that our friendship dies.

I guess it’s the same sadness, the very same fear,
that forces you to be one of them.
Selfish and conniving.
Lying and depraving.
I think its time for the end to begin.

Liquid Lust

Everyone wants or wants to be the whore. We wouldn’t call her that, of course. She would be mysterious and difficult, but still sexually available. You know she has “experience.” If we stop and think rationally, of course this seems ludicrous. But we’re not talking about rationality. We’re talking about desires. All the girls want to be her because all the guys want to win her. She’s sexy. But she’s subconsciously an object. To be or to possess. Even the good Christian guys admit, when desire overwhelms rational thought, it’s that girl they want. The one who seems untouchable, but who everyone has touched. And even the good Christian girls want to be her, because there’s a lure of being desired and relentlessly pursued. The culture tells us sex is the pleasure upon which everything else in the world hinges. It is the display of our status and wealth. It can make or destroy you. There are only consequences if you get caught. Sex is the only reason you are possibly going to be desirable. Who pursues the prude? We have become a culture dripping in lust. And no one is exempt from it. No one. Men objectify women and women objectify themselves. We have stopped fighting, and we’ve started to believe. Even those who attempt to push strongly against the culture push back because they feel the drips on their skin. It’s not righteousness that drives them, but the fear of being overwhelmed. Sex is either our god or our demon.

But wasn’t it supposed to be something beautiful?
Wasn’t it supposed to be something holy,
Not dirty?
We have polluted its name
We have made it our idol
Like Hosea, You find yourself
Married to us,
The prostitute.
The willing whore.
Forgive us,
Not for the desire,
But for the misuse
And abuse
And excuse
We’ve made the desire.
We drown in the liquid lust
Of our culture.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
And it glides down our skin.
Savior, rescue us from our sin.
And help us to learn to love again

MUST READ- Sikhs

We all love Sardar jokes. But do you know that Sikhs are one of the hardest working, prosperous and diversified communities in the world!
My friend told me about the following incident which I wish to share with you. It has had a deep impact on my thinking...

During the last vacation, a few friends came to Delhi . They rented a taxi for local sight-seeing. The driver was an old Sardar and boys being boys, these pals began cracking Sardarji jokes, just to tease the old man. But to their surprise, the fellow remained unperturbed..

At the end of the sight-seeing, they paid the cab hire charges. The Sardar returned the change, but he gave each one of them one rupee extra and said,''Sons, since morning you have been telling Sardarji jokes. I listened to them all and let me tell you, some of them were in bad taste. Still, I don't mind coz I know that you are young blood and are yet to see the world. But I have one request. I am giving you one rupee each. Give it to the first Sardar beggar that you come across in this or any other city !!!"

My friend continued, "That one rupee coin is still with me. I couldn't find a single Sardar begging anywhere."

MORAL:
The secret behind their universal success is their willingness to do any job with utmost dedication and pride. A Sardar will drive a truck or set up a roadside garage or a dhaba, run a fruit juice stall, take up small time carpentry, ... but he will never beg on the streets


Because Sikhs contribute:

* 33% of total income tax
* 67% of total charities
* 45% of Indian Army

* 59,000++ Gurudwaras serve LANGAR to 5,900,000+ people everyday!


& All this when THEY make only 1.4% of the total INDIAN POPULATION.

WISDOM OF THE SOUL

1. No one can ruin your day without YOUR permission.

2. Most people will be about as happy, as they decide to be.

3. Others can stop you temporarily, but only you can do it permanently.

4. Whatever you are willing to put up with, is exactly what you will have.

5. Success stops when you do.

6. When your ship comes in. ... make sure you are willing to unload it.

7. You will never "have it all together."

8. Life is a journey... not a destination. Enjoy the trip!

9. The biggest lie on the planet: "When I get what I want I will be happy."

10. The best way to escape your problem is to solve it.

11. I've learned that ultimately 'takers' lose and 'givers' win.

12. Life's precious moments don't have value, unless they are shared.

13. If you don't start, it's certain you won't arrive.

14. We often fear the thing we want the most.

15. Yesterday was the deadline for all complaints.

16. Look for opportunities. ..not guarantees.

17. Life is what's coming....not what was.

18. Success is getting up one more time.

19. Now is the most interesting time of all.

20. When things go wrong.....don' t go with them.

21. Sometimes the majority only means that all the fools are on the same side.

22. A person who asks a question might be a fool for five minutes, but a person who doesn't ask, is a fool forever.

23. A best friend is like a four leaf clover... hard to find, and lucky to have.

24. I don't have to attend every argument I'm invited to.

25. Our eyes are placed in front because it is more important to look ahead than to look behind.

Beauty of a woman

For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair, let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day.
For poise, walk with the knowledge you'll never walk alone.
People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived,
reclaimed, and redeemed; Never throw out anybody.
Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you'll find one at the end of your arm.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands:
one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.
The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she
carries, or the way she combs her hair.
The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes because that is the doorway
to her heart, the place where love resides.
The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, but true beauty in a woman is
reflected in her soul.
It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows,
and the beauty of a woman, with passing years, only grows!

Contd LOVE is

Love is when you smile when you hear that it's him and her no more.
Love is when you hear he sent her through the door.
Love is when you try to bump into him again.
Love is when he'll say hi to you and there is no more pain.
Love is suddenly real love when he says he loves you too.
Love is suddenly real love when his life revolves around you.
Love is suddenly real love when he's always loved you but he didn't dare.
Love is suddenly real love when he's always loved you but thought you didn't
care.
Love is suddenly real love when now it's all coming true.
Love is suddenly real love when you love him and he loves you.
Love is suddenly real love when now your life is nearly complete.
Love is suddenly real love when everyday, it's him you meet.
Love is suddenly real love when your friends accept him too.
Love is suddenly real love when you can have time for them and him and you

Her!!!

Someone once told me you should never ‘fall’ in love, but ‘stand up in it’. But I don’t believe this is Love. This is fear. To know Love, is to know her peace and her pain. To know Love, you will remember her gripping and consuming yield, and never forget her shattering, heavy ache. To know Love is to know both her elements. Only seeking her peace, is not Love at all. The following poem is inspired by Kahlil Gibran’s ‘The Prophet’ and his teachings on this emotion. Her. When you approach Love’s shimmering waters, Her glittering waves will beckon you. Dive in and immerse your body in Her ocean. Think not of your submersion. Think not anything at all. For when you surrender, you are no longer yours. You are a mere droplet . Mindless. You belong to Her. Her tide may take you kindly, Her body a melodic wave. She will take you, softly yet deeply, drifting towards the Sun, Basking in it’s rays. But know that darkness will fall soon, And you, sea-faring droplet, in the chill of the night, will lose the light of the Moon.
Her tide is treacherous, Her brisk winds will throw you,
Thrashing against ocean shore, And strip you will She, in these perilous waters,
A part of Her ocean no more.
But as you do not fear Her profound, soothing current, Or her warmth of Sun, Nor should you fear Her tempestuous tide, They are the same and one.
Walk into Her water, And fear you should defy, For not delving into Her ocean, Is what, but a life lived dry. Climb towards Her mountainous peaks.
In Her altitude be intoxicated, Let Her fog cloud your sight and mind, Inhibited, yet elevated. For these are part of this journey, In faith and in awe, To exclude her blurry sensations is, To never really climb at all.
Know that this is a slippery path, And some may find footing to the top, But in every step you may plunge and plummet Her depths, Falling and forgot.
Come to Her as she calls, Stand at Her mountion side,
It is but only when you know Her falls, Will you know Her atmospheric highs.
Stand at Her ocean shore, Be summoned unto Her waves,
For only when you give yourself,
Can you truly be bathed.

Love Is...

Love is when you wake up, he is already on your mind.
Love is when you lost your heart, he is all that you canfind.
Love is when you want to be the one to dry his eyes.
Love is when you see the truth in every one of his lies.
Love is when you want to listen to all his whims and woes.
Love is when you want him to take care everywhere he goes.
Love is when he calls you, your heart goes a flutter.
Love is when you see him, "I love you..." you silently stutter.
Love is when you tell the world that you love him so.
Love is when you've told the world, but he doesn't know.
Love is when you know you'll still love him when he's lost his hair.
Love is when your eyes light up when you see him there.
Love is also when you hear your heart break when he held hands with her.
Love is also when you crumbled as you hear them say that it will last
forever.
Love is also when you cry inside yet smile outside when they say hi to you.
Love is also when you held your breath and said, "How do you do?"
Love is also when you let him go, you know he is happy now.
Love is also when you know you'll get over him somehow.
Love is also when his happiness is what matters to you.
Love is also when you let him love her, and not love you true.
Love is when you'll still love him...and still, he'll never know.
Love is when you'll swallow the pain and slowly let go.

Love is the condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.

There was once a guy who was very much in love with a girl. He folded 1,000 pieces of paper cranes as a gift to her. Although at that time he was just a small fry in his company and his future didn't seem too bright he was contented with what he had.. for he was in love.. and they were both happy together.. Until one day, this girl told him she was going to leave the country for Paris and try to live a new life there with no intention of returning back. She also told him that she cannot visualize any future for both of them because he was poor and he had no dreams. He couldn't believe what he just heard and couldn't help but cry. She was his dream, his love, his friend.. she was his everything.. Just when he thought he had it all he gets to experience the true side of the world.. with all it's misery in it.. But love is being able to accept the truth no matter how it hurts.. She broke his heart and yet he still loves her.. Days have passed, months have gone by and yet his feelings for her has always stayed the same.. He worked hard night and day to put his mind off the past.. He wanted to prove her wrong about the fact that he has no dreams.. he can be somebody someday.. Finally with all the hard work and help from his friends, he was able to build his own company.. One rainy day, while he was driving along the highway, he saw an old couple sharing an umbrella in the rain while heading to some destination. It didn't take him a while to recognise them for they seemed familiar to him.. they were his girl's parents.. He drove back to them.. slowly.. to show them how his life has changed. how successful he has become.. he's got his own car, house, company.. he's got it all.. But what he saw next confused him. The couple were heading to a cemmetery. Out of impulse he went out of the car and followed them. She was there.. his heart pounded so fast for he couldn't believe what he was seeing.. He felt the warmth of his tears thrickling down his cheeks.. He was crying in the rain.. He saw his girl's photograph smiling sweetly at him.. from her tombstone.. next to the paper cranes he once gave her. Her parents felt his presence and looked back at him. Out of confusion he asked them why.. and how did all this happend.. She did not leave for Paris for she was ill with cancer, it was her cliché. She believed that he will make it someday and she didn't want to be his obstacle. All she ever wanted was to be with him.. but she chose to leave him to spare him from her suffering and frustrations.. Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to, doesn't mean they don't love you at all. She wanted her parents to put his paper cranes beside her, because, if the day comes when fate brings him near to her again... he will remember how much she loved him and how much he meant to her... Once you have loved someone, you will always love her.. forever. For what's in your mind and heart will remain forever. He cried in silence and whispered... "I thought I almost had it all.. now i know what was missing.. you.."

Miracle of one dollar and eleven cents

A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door. She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention but he was too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it! "And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. "I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages," he said without waiting for a reply >> to his question. "Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone. "He's really, really sick... and I want to buy a miracle." ''I beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist. His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside >> his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So >> how much does a miracle cost?" "We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help you," the pharmacist said, softening a little. "Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough,I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs." The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, "What kind of a miracle does your brother need?" I don't know," Tess replied with her eyes welling up. "I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money." "How much do you have?" asked the man from Chicago. "One dollar and eleven cents," Tess answered barely audibly. And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to." "Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man. "A dollar and eleven cents--- the exact price of a miracle for little brothers. " He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said "Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the miracle you need." That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed free of charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well. Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place. "That surgery," her Mom whispered. "was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?" Tess smiled.. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost...one dollar and eleven cents ..... plus the faith of a little child..

I Wish You Enough

Recently I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport. They had announced the departure. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said, "I love you and I wish you enough". The daughter replied, "Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom". They kissed and the daughter left. The mother walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking,"Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever? ". "Yes, I have," I replied. "Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?". "I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is - the next trip back will be for my funeral,"she said. "When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, 'I wish you enough'. May I ask what that means?". She began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone". She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more. "When we said, I wish you enough', we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them". Then turning toward me, she shared the following as if she were reciting it from memory. I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright, I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more. I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive. I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye. She then began to cry and walked away. They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them. Take time to live......To all my friends and loved ones, I wish you enough.

Memories....

Sitting here staring at the computer screen,
moments shared flashing across,
bringing me to the past,
your face resurfaced in my mind.

Listening to soft instrumental music,
memories built swirling around,
tugging at my heart insistently,

your warmth and gentleness hugged me.

Pausing all my actions in mid motion,
images locked unfolding once more,
stirring bittersweet emotions,
your presence never left me.

Shuffling among the good memories,
open conversations stimulating my heart,
reaffirming my love for you once more,
your sincerity kissed my soul.

Smiling sweetly at no one,
visions created mingling happily,
filling me up with hopes and wishes,
your future links intricately with mine.

Human Rights

A right is a freedom of some kind.It is something to which we are entitled.

Human Rights are defined as "The basic rights and freedoms to which all human beings are entitled,often held to include the right to life and liberty,freedom of thought and expression,and equality before the law".
There are different kinds of rights.If a person belongs to a particular group,he has certain rights as a member of that group.
Human rights,however,are the rights to which everyone is entitled___no matter who they are or where they live___simply because they are human being.
It wasn't until after World War II,the most terrible war

By knowing or getting human rights we can raise voice and work against illiteracy,as today more than a billion people are unable to read in world.We can put pressure on our government that it should take steps to ensure human right of "the right to education".
Human rights are important for all human beings as these rights are there for our protection against people who might want to harm or hurt us.As it is stated in Universal declaration of human rights "Nobody has any right to make us a slave,We cannot make anyone our slave" and the right which states that "Nobody has any right to hurt us or to torture us".

Human Rights are important for every human being , as human rights are there to help us get along with each other in a nice way and live in peace.As human rights grant us "freedom of thought" and "freedom of expression". By getting and spreading these rights, blood shed can be avoided,because if freedom of expression is there every one will tell his/her thought,discussions will take place and problems will be solved by dialogues not by wars.By the right of freedom of thought, we are ensured that we have right to think freely,we can research on our own to make our thoughts and minds.
Human rights have significant importance for all of us because it says that "Don't discriminate".By getting this right and respecting this, we can have the security that no discrimination will be made on the basis of people's color,religion,cast or country.
The declaration of human rights states that "food and shelter for all",by this it means that we all have the right to have a good life

Tuesdays with Morrie - excerpts from the book

Do you know you are going to die one day.
Yes we all know that human beings have a life span.
We have read all the biology and life sciences and its another fact.
But the person we are talking about is not anyone else but "YOU".
But it's not another FACT of life.

And the moment you can relate that its not some one else we are referring to but "YOU" - a lot of things which appeal a lot will loose there meaning or they will appear as mere things.
A new paradigm will emerge, the outlook to life will change a new path will emerge - the path to salvation or a path of self discovery or the spiritual path. You have the option to ignore it to or to embrace it - whatever you do. It's a temporary decision of today. Cause tomorrow the same path will emerge again and it shall rise every time you realize you are about to die. And until one makes that choice, the same wuestion will keep popping up. one can avoid it, delay it cannot run away from it.And then only you will know what it means to LIVE

Bought this book online. A simple book by Mitch Albom about, in his own words "an old man, a young man and life's great lessons".


"When you learn how to die, you learn how to live"

Excerpt I

Yes, I said, but if aging were so valuable, why do people always say "Oh, if I were young again". you never heard people say "I wish I were sixty-five"
He smiled. " You know what that reflects? Unsatisfied lived. Unfulfilled lives. Lives that haven't found any meaning. Because you have found any meaning in your life, you don't want to go back. You want to go forward. You want to see more, do more. You can't wait till sixty five.
"Listen you should no something.All younger people should know something. If you are battling against getting older, you are always going to be unhappy, because it will happen anyhow.
And the fact is, you are going to die eventually.

Excerpt II

We've got a form of brainwashing going in our country. "Do you know how the brain wash people? They repeat the same thing over and over again. And that's what er do in this country. Owning things is good. More money is good. more property is good. More commercialism is good. More is good. more is good. We repeat it - and have it repeated to us - over and over until no-body bothers to even think otherwise. The average person is so fogged up by all this, he has no perspective on what's important anymore.

There's a big confusion in this country over what we want and what we need.

Woman

A woman is the calm of a hurricane's eye
where a man finds transquility
as the storm passes by

A woman is the softness inside the shell
when the shell is bonbarded
by man's creation of hell

A woman is the pillar of a temple foundation
where a man comes and goes
with renewed inspirations

A woman is the cloud that carries the rain
giving life to man's soul
parched from anxieties and pain

A woman is the bank of the river flows
helping man's direction
by being the woman she knows

A woman is the sound of a Lark's song in the morning
when mist covers life
and man feels forlorn

A woman is the emotions
shared with a man
the climax of giving
by the touch of a hand

A woman is the flesh that holds the seed
the miracle of birth
fullfilling human need

A woman is the mother of a new generation
a man is the direction
of that aspiration.....

Respect Woman

The culture of gift vouchers

Literally speaking and as per dictionary.com “gift” is a noun meaning “ something given voluntarily without payment in return, as to show favor toward someone, honor an occasion, or make a gesture of assistance; present” or “something bestowed or acquired without any particular effort by the recipient or without its being earned” . In the context of this note, I will abstain from other meanings like a special ability or something.

What is the reason behind giving someone a gift certificate?

From a strategic and tactical perspective for retailers it works wonders. Just before Christmas when the retailers are struggling to cope up with demand the gift vouchers are available in abundance and when they are redeemed after new year – retailer are more than happy to see the lift in the sales. They shifted the demand from high period to low demand period in order to utilize their resources better.

We hardly know people enough these days. Hence buying a gift for someone is a real pain but I guess it is worth a try and effort. Especially when you want to buy you a gift as a real gesture (not for the sake of formality like Boss's birthday) and I guess an effort needs to be put to understand the recipient as a person. A gift was never about the gift alone. It was always about the care and time spent in choosing something for someone you care and love.

Do you like a gift vouchers?

Personally speaking I don’t. I hate them it is like a short cut and means buying some gift for the sake of it. Well in my opinion a currency note would have been better at least every one will redeem it unlike vouchers at any place they choose with fewer terms and conditions. If that sounds rude what about a wire transfer – a gift certificate is socially acceptable way of doing the same thing. The difference is more like sipping single malt vs. country liquor and irrespective of where it comes from alcohol is injurious to health.

Over the period of years I have come across situations when people asked “what do you want for your birthday”. This used to be more frequent in my younger years. Months before the occasion the wish list used to be ready. Some time it was as trivial as the new set of sketching pens, some time it was a watch sometimes more trivial things as well. As the count of years steadily increased (does it sound like am very old – am just 27 and you know what they say about it – 27 is the new 15) the number of people who asked this question suddenly decreased and I have started receiving vouchers. There is no fun to receive a voucher.


I guess we need to step back and preserve this beautiful thing called gift. I know it is complicated to ask someone or choose something on behalf of someone but knowing someone better was the idea of a gift. It’s a tricky line – we all don’t want to sound greedy but a voucher culture is not a substitute.

Just for the sake of doing it, let’s go out and ask people what they want as a gift. A “Wish List” is a good idea to have – a lot of websites allow that. Or at least when someone pops up the let’s be frank share the information about the budget or at least give some options. A lot of people are afraid of dealing with this but I am sure this is not difficult compared to hundreds of complicated decisions you make every day. If you don’t like flowers please go out and tell people. If you want something special we can put it up on our desks.

Let’s preserve the personal touch of the gift and save it forever. And if you are looking for something to buy for me – please let me know. I will ask you the same question soon if I can’t make the decision on your behalf but please don’t send me a gift voucher.

What do you say. Do let me know :)

Life School Lesson: Being Sensitive yet Detached

We all wonder what it means to live. Osho said "this very body the Buddha". Easier said then done - no wonder he had a series of discourses on the topic. To be very frank I haven't read or heard them but I always wondered what it meant.
However life is the school we all attend and there is no teacher but every day is a lesson.

It was a thought which just precipitated today. Most of us in our daily lives are going through phases which stimulate us mentally as well as physically. Mental simulation leads us to feel emotions like joy or sadness or happiness. The physical stimulus causes pain or pleasure too which is in turn interpreted by mind as good or bad. We are continuously being exposed to hundreds of such stimulations and emotions.

However the question is how does one remain sensitive enough while being able to detach from a situation or emotion. The dark side of things pull one self to lose either one of those as the easy solution. Either become involved or attached of become too insensitive.

As they say prolonged exposure to negative experiences tends to harden people like steel is hardened by Quenching. Metallurgically speaking it is a process in which steel is exposed to high temperature and then cooled quickly. The temperature difference hardens it - makes it stronger. Humans I perceive have a similar response to emotional stress - it tends to harden us. The natural process is to get involves and gradually lose sensitivity. What a pity and price to pay !

Remember as a kid what joy the bubbles gave us or was it the rainbow in the sky. It was all fun until we grew up. The emotional stress grew on us and we matured and look at the price we paid !


"Self-purification by self-observation" some claim is the summary of Buddha's teaching. Unless we learn to observe the thoughts and the mind how will we be able to understand them. Some call it witnessing - without bias, morality, questioning anything and without opinions - just being there sitting on one side and watching how things unfold.

However being so detached moves us away from being us to some extent. In such a pure state how will these material things and feelings move. If being detached in a state of meditation becomes a reality how will be not lose the sensitivity.

The eternal conflict is the experience to escape the hardening process of emotions - remain sensitive like a kid and yet be detached enough to observe and act.I guess this would be the real living - that would be the real emotion and that would be the real bliss or my interpretation of "this very Buddha this very mind"

WHY!!!!

Why nobody answers my question?

Do I put them in uncomfortable situation?

With right to speech, It's democratic nation..


Why life is so complex?

Why people are so perplexed?

Why wind is flowing in different direction?

Why nobody reacts and take any action?

Why sea has lost its aggressiveness?

Why so called Indian Women is in Complete mess?

Why eyes are open , still not awake?

Why people don't accept their mistake?

Why shaking hand has taken over 'NAMASKAR'?

Why we are forgetting our 'SANSKAR'?

Why English is dominating Sanskrit and Hindi?

Why foreign brands and mini skirt has replaced
our traditional sari and bindi?

Why papa is replaced by DAD and mummy by MOM?

Why Indian names are changing to TOM,Alexander or JOhn?

Why last night dogs have barked and cried?

Why we are never satisfied?

I dont' know WHY, I dont't know WHY!!!

Waat Lagi :)

This is the new song called Waat Lagi.. just follow the tune of Masakali...from Delhi 6

Aye waat lagi, haan waat lagi,
arre sach main lagi , badi zor se lagi.
Aye waat lagi, haan waat lagi,
arre sach main lagi, badi zor se lagi.

Zara bucket pakad, yahan pani ka magga patak aur lachak machak ke door bhatak.
Ude badboo dagar dagar kasbe khunche nukad basti mein (Yai yai),
subah subah karle puri dil ki tamana,
Hawa se jhud, ada se baith, phud phud phud railway ki patri par re .

Aye waat lagi, haan waat lagi,
arre sach main lagi , badi zor se lagi.

Ghar tera saloni, upset stomach ki colony,
Dikhlade thenga in sabko jo karna na jaane.
kariyo, na dariyo, khul ke jab na aave,
Kariyo, na uthiyo kar nadaani.
kariyo, na dariyo , khul ke jab na aave,
Kariyo na uthiyo kar nadaani.
Bas jaan le, muskaan le, keh sanana nanana nana hawa,
Bas thaanle, tu jaanle, keh sanana nanana nanan hawa.

Aye lagi lagi lagi lagi .......................bhatak bhatak bhatak bhatak.

(Humming Vocals)
Tujhe kya gum, tera rishta logon ki naak se hain,
Pawan ki guftagu se hain, suraj ki roshni se hain.
kariyo, na dariyo, kar manmaani manmaani kam paani,
Rukiyo, na jhukiyo kar nadaani.
Kariyo, na dariyo, kar manmaani manmaani man maani,
Rukiyo, na jhukiyo kar nadaani.

Bas Jaan le, muskaan le, keh sanana nanana nana hawa,
Bas thaanle, tu jaanle, keh sanana nanana nanan hawa.

Aye lagi lagi lagi lagi.....

Mayonnaise Jar and the Beer

When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar--and the beer.

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full.

They agreed that it was. So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full.

They agreed it was. The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous "yes."

The professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things--your family, your children, your health, your friends, your favorite passions--things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. "The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else--the small stuff.

If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal. "Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the beer represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of beers."

Changing Trends in The Gifts Meant For Your Valentine

14th February is a special day for the lovers. Known as the Valentine's Day or Saint Valentine's Day, this day has always been celebrated as a special occasion where two people freely express their love for each other and exchange Valentine's Day gifts.

In earlier times, this day was celebrated by sending mutual love notes. However, since the 19th century, sending of valentines in the form of greeting cards became a common phenomenon. Amongst all forms of greeting cards, the heart-shaped cards have always been the most popular. It is a true symbol of the passion that two people share. The real story, however, is the sacrifice made by Saint Valentine for his beloved. On being rejected by his mistress, he was so heartbroken that he sent his still-beating heart to her as a token of his eternal love for her. However, cards depicting doves and cupid along with the heart symbol are also equally liked by people. During mid 19th century, hand-made Valentine's Day cards also became immensely popular. In fact, till date, Valentine's Day greeting cards are being considered as the most ideal gift for this day. This is the reason why this day is the second largest card-buying day of the year, worldwide, after Christmas.

As time passed by, the celebration of this day of love started involving more interesting gifts. People started clubbing flowers, stuffed toys, perfumes, and even confectionery with attractive greeting cards as a gift for their beloved. While red roses are considered just perfect for this day, people have started experimenting with other flowers as well, such as orchids, lilies, tulips, and many other exotic varieties. However, no one can deny the charm that is offered by red roses. In fact, even today, a red rose is considered synonymous with Valentine's Day.

Gift shops all across the world have also started offering various confectionery items as Valentine's Day gifts. The most preferred of them all is a wide assortment of chocolates. Heart-shaped chocolates have always been a favorite with lovers. Those who want to go to that extra bit for their beloved also love to team up a bottle of champagne with creamy lemon tarts, scrumptious brownies, luscious tirramisu and tasty yule logs. Wow! It's heaven in a box! This, however, demands quite a good budget. One can also impress his/her partner on Valentine's Day by simply gifting a good perfume brand. Of late, gifting perfumes has also become no less than a trend.

Another popular trend in Valentine's Day gifts is giving of soft toys such as teddy bears. Although, you are not a kid anymore, you can still get a cute, little teddy bear from your partner on Valentine's Day. What if you get a box of chocolates along with it! Won't it be the best day of your life?

At the end of the day, everyone wants to offer something different on the Valentine's Day. This is the reason why gift shops are coming up with new ideas every year for the Valentine's Day.

Too Much of Media Attention to Valentine's Day

For past few years, no other festival has ever attracted so much of media attention than the Valentine's Day. In the era of globalization, the whole world has become one common place, with people of one country openly welcoming the culture of other nations. As a result, no festival can be considered as unique to one country or religion anymore. Like Christmas has become a universal festival, similarly, Durga Puja or Ganpati Puja are also celebrated with much pomp and show in many foreign countries. In such a scenario where people are no more prejudiced towards those belonging to other ethnic backgrounds, it is quite common for a festival like Valentine's Day to find acceptance worldwide.

In late nineties, some Hindu and Muslim activists did protest against the celebration of Valentine's Day in India. However, it did not have much impact on our society. Couples were free to express their love for each other. There were also many who did not want to celebrate this day because they did not attach much importance to the day. Whatever be the case, it was completely an individual's decision to celebrate it or not. It is only in recent times that we have started witnessing a lot surrounding the celebrations on this day. In fact, many state governments have started taking stringent steps to curb any kind of social unrest on this day. Why all this is happening? The answer is simple: too much of media attention to those handful of extremists who have been trying to gain some kind of political mileage by protesting against the V-day.
Know Shiv Sena? before his goons thrashed some young girls and boys sitting inside a Mumbai pub? For 1 week, we found all news channels showing detailed news reports on that episode, not to forget, the entire bio-data of this so-called SS. Attracted by the wide scale media coverage on the nuisance created by SS workers, many other big and small, extremist groups (both Hindu and Muslim) started raising their voice against the V-day. They were least bothered about protecting the rich Indian culture and heritage, their sole aim being able to gain some kind of media attention and publicity.

It's really pity that the Valentine's Day has been used by some groups for their political interests. Who is to be blamed for all this? It is only we who have given so much of attention to these groups for no reason. Second on the row to be blamed is our media for there is much more for them to capture and present to the viewers. The audience as well as the media need to be least bothered about groups like SS and soon we will find them fight for better causes.

Was it worth?

Sometimes people come into your life & you know right away that they were meant to be there, to serve some sort of purpose, teach you a lesson, or help you figure out who you are & or who you want to become You never know who these people may be (possibly your roommate, neighbor, professor, long lost friend, lover, or even a complete stranger), but when you lock eyes with them, you know at the very moment that they will affect your life in some profound way.
and sometime things will happen to you that may seem horrible, painful, & unfair at first, but in reflection you find that without overcoming these obstacles that you would have never realized your true potential, strength, will power, or heart
Everything happens for a reason. Nothing happens by chance or by mean of good luck. Illness, injury, love, lost moments of true greatness & sheer stupidity all occur to test the limits of your soul. Without this small test, whatever they may be, life would be like a smoothly paved, straight, flat road to nowhere. It would be safe & comfortable, but dull and utterly pointless.
The people that you meet who affect your life, and the success and downfalls you experience, help to create who you are and who you will become Even the bad experiences are learned from. In fact, they are the most poignant ones.
If someone hurts you, betrays you, or breaks your heart, forgive them for they have helped you learn about trust and the importance of being cautious when you open your heart. If someone loves you, love them back unconditionally, not only because they love you, but because in a way, they are teaching you to love & how to open your heart & eyes to things.
Make everyday count. Appreciate every moment & take from those moments everything you could possibly can for you may never be able to experience it again. Talk to people that you have never talked to before & actually listen... Let yourself fall in love again, break free, and set your sights high. Hold your head up because you have every right too.
Tell yourself that you are a great individual & believe in yourself. For if you don't believe in yourself, it will be hard for others to believe in you. You can make your life anything you wish.....Create your own life & then go out & live it with absolutely NO REGRETS. Most importantly, if you love someone tell him or her, for you NEVER know what tomorrow may have in store. And learn a lesson in life each day you live.
Today is the tomorrow you were worried about yesterday.... Was it worth it?