In the silent empty hours
Life’s wagon wheel rolls back:
It shows hackneyed reels
Of undone actions;
The childish childhood
Simply passed without a fit pal;
Why he hated me, my brother?
Perhaps taking me as a threat;
Why that trembling fear
0f meeting girls and elders?
What an ugly shyness!
Even to face the next door aunties,
Somehow it passed, the childhood
With Mom’s stories, innocent plays
Quarrelling, weeping
Laughing and mocking.
Adolescence- red hot furnace-
Heavenly dreams gave way to
Burning thoughts of fleshy girls,
Red pimples on the cheek
And uneven beard on the face
Revealed the clashes inside,
Ambitions withered like petals
And loves shattered like fog.
Next, youth with oodles of confusions,
Fires and raw dealings;
Sometimes a light flashed
And the world was under his feet;
Sometimes a foggy darkness
Buried all his peace;
Reading, thinking and writing
Made truth a touch so near
But miles far away;
Conquering of every new peak
Opened new vistas of mounts,
Virgin valleys and untouched heights.
The young man arrived
With a fully grown up beard,
Honing body and soul and spirit
To start a brand new life;
Less in thoughts and more in dreams;
Careless and vibrant in moves
Like an insect at a flame- trial and error.
Every single step was a journey,
Every other stop was a learning spot,
When reality faded Maya revealed.
Vacant railway stations
Roaring shores, shop verandas,
Empty grounds after hectic actions
Jostling human seas, tender leaves,
Tired home coming birds,
Life trod on making lasting marks.
No sign was within the grasp
To know who he was
To know the purpose of life,
Simply a journey thus far
And a journey forward.
- J T Jayasingh
23 October, 2009
24 September, 2009
Life with Cosmic Consciousness
Gazing from the Dover beach the Victorian poet Mathew Arnold could only have the glimpse of the darker sides of life. The sea revealed to him as it had revealed to Sophocles long ego life’s secrets:
“… for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.”
But in another era, another milieu the sea revealed to David, the symbolic root of Jesus, the negligence and meagerness of human existence only to magnify God’s might and love upon them.
Seas and oceans like sky and mountains can time and time again reveal the unrevealed. They are everlasting sources of mystic experience and knowledge. Whenever I watch a sea from its shore I am awestruck and it makes me to forget about time and space.
The vast expanse of blue clothing, the horizon which keeps on setting renewed targets and the never ending waves take me to different lands and higher altitudes of philosophic and mystical experiences. To me waves symbolize life which is fickle yet constant: no two waves are the same but there are waves present always from eternity to eternity. The vastness of ocean outruns human history if not space. The sea has sparked the same fire since the beginning of human life in men and women of different times. Their feelings, emotions and thoughts have passed but the sea is there to evoke the same thoughts again and again. So oceans tie me down with the humanity past, present and future. This is what the great mystic poet Walt Whitman experienced at the Brooklyn River:
“It avail not, time nor place-distance avails not,
I am with you, you men and women of a generation, or ever so many generations hence,
Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt”
Ocean and sky also give me a cosmic consciousness. Alone, watching the sky or ocean, especially at night make me feel the oneness with the whole universe. Sometimes I feel like flying from star to star, all powerful. I can smell and taste the expanse.
I am capable of thinking logically too. But whatever logic disturbs my belief in God or the super natural power gets nullified when I look at the sky. When the eyes are raised towards the sky I come to know there is no beginning and end to space and time. It reveals the truth that there is God or the supernatural power in the beginning and end of time and space.
When I experience the cosmic consciousness there is no time, space, boundaries, countries, castes, genus and species to me. All are the part of the one and the only one. This state is absolutely joyful and one can achieve spiritual bliss.
If human beings have the physical state, mental state and the spiritual state (super natural) of being then they have to experience all the three. People have to occasionally go through the mystic experience. If they learn to live with the cosmic consciousness then many problems in life would be solved.
Do experiences die? Have the emotions and actions expressed by the humans since time immemorial died never to return back? No I believe the experiences of humans crisscrossing time are still there in the universe as waves. They become the collective knowledge, memory and consciousness of the universe. Hence when I gaze at the ravines and peaks of the mountains, sages and laymen of the past stand side by side with me to feel and think like me. If you have the collective consciousness, you can feel the consciousness of every cell move in the universe to the complete oneness because waves won’t die.
Of late I find peace and companionship in nature like the great poets of yesteryears. Every chirp and hum of birds, the gentle nods of bushes and trees at the touch of the impalpable breeze and of course the sky with its magic of colour gives me an unexplainable pleasure. This meditation reveals to me divine secrets. This meditation reveals to me the hands behind this art. This meditation reveals to me who am I.
J T Jayasingh
“… for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.”
But in another era, another milieu the sea revealed to David, the symbolic root of Jesus, the negligence and meagerness of human existence only to magnify God’s might and love upon them.
Seas and oceans like sky and mountains can time and time again reveal the unrevealed. They are everlasting sources of mystic experience and knowledge. Whenever I watch a sea from its shore I am awestruck and it makes me to forget about time and space.
The vast expanse of blue clothing, the horizon which keeps on setting renewed targets and the never ending waves take me to different lands and higher altitudes of philosophic and mystical experiences. To me waves symbolize life which is fickle yet constant: no two waves are the same but there are waves present always from eternity to eternity. The vastness of ocean outruns human history if not space. The sea has sparked the same fire since the beginning of human life in men and women of different times. Their feelings, emotions and thoughts have passed but the sea is there to evoke the same thoughts again and again. So oceans tie me down with the humanity past, present and future. This is what the great mystic poet Walt Whitman experienced at the Brooklyn River:
“It avail not, time nor place-distance avails not,
I am with you, you men and women of a generation, or ever so many generations hence,
Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt”
Ocean and sky also give me a cosmic consciousness. Alone, watching the sky or ocean, especially at night make me feel the oneness with the whole universe. Sometimes I feel like flying from star to star, all powerful. I can smell and taste the expanse.
I am capable of thinking logically too. But whatever logic disturbs my belief in God or the super natural power gets nullified when I look at the sky. When the eyes are raised towards the sky I come to know there is no beginning and end to space and time. It reveals the truth that there is God or the supernatural power in the beginning and end of time and space.
When I experience the cosmic consciousness there is no time, space, boundaries, countries, castes, genus and species to me. All are the part of the one and the only one. This state is absolutely joyful and one can achieve spiritual bliss.
If human beings have the physical state, mental state and the spiritual state (super natural) of being then they have to experience all the three. People have to occasionally go through the mystic experience. If they learn to live with the cosmic consciousness then many problems in life would be solved.
Do experiences die? Have the emotions and actions expressed by the humans since time immemorial died never to return back? No I believe the experiences of humans crisscrossing time are still there in the universe as waves. They become the collective knowledge, memory and consciousness of the universe. Hence when I gaze at the ravines and peaks of the mountains, sages and laymen of the past stand side by side with me to feel and think like me. If you have the collective consciousness, you can feel the consciousness of every cell move in the universe to the complete oneness because waves won’t die.
Of late I find peace and companionship in nature like the great poets of yesteryears. Every chirp and hum of birds, the gentle nods of bushes and trees at the touch of the impalpable breeze and of course the sky with its magic of colour gives me an unexplainable pleasure. This meditation reveals to me divine secrets. This meditation reveals to me the hands behind this art. This meditation reveals to me who am I.
J T Jayasingh
Labourers in the City
There is sand on their halves
And grey stains on shirts and pants.
In the mad rush of the city
They sit on the reels of bridges.
These are lighter moments:
Cracking simple jokes and
Gazing the passing tidy passengers.
The dry, salty sweat
Still lingering on,
The smell of sand and cement
Drilling the nostrils,
A simple wait
For a cool, real bath.
The wrestle they’ve had
With iron, bricks and rocks
Would come as colourful scenes
In their late night’s sleep
When their wives simply lie beside
Dreaming not a hot wet touch
But some silver shining bowls.
- J T Jayasingh
And grey stains on shirts and pants.
In the mad rush of the city
They sit on the reels of bridges.
These are lighter moments:
Cracking simple jokes and
Gazing the passing tidy passengers.
The dry, salty sweat
Still lingering on,
The smell of sand and cement
Drilling the nostrils,
A simple wait
For a cool, real bath.
The wrestle they’ve had
With iron, bricks and rocks
Would come as colourful scenes
In their late night’s sleep
When their wives simply lie beside
Dreaming not a hot wet touch
But some silver shining bowls.
- J T Jayasingh
Labourers in the City
There is sand on their halves
And grey stains on shirts and pants.
In the mad rush of the city
They sit on the reels of bridges.
These are lighter moments:
Cracking simple jokes and
Gazing the passing tidy passengers.
The dry, salty sweat
Still lingering on,
The smell of sand and cement
Drilling the nostrils,
A simple wait
For a cool, real bath.
The wrestle they’ve had
With iron, bricks and rocks
Would come as colourful scenes
In their late night’s sleep
When their wives simply lie beside
Dreaming not a hot wet touch
But some silver shining bowls.
- J T Jayasingh
And grey stains on shirts and pants.
In the mad rush of the city
They sit on the reels of bridges.
These are lighter moments:
Cracking simple jokes and
Gazing the passing tidy passengers.
The dry, salty sweat
Still lingering on,
The smell of sand and cement
Drilling the nostrils,
A simple wait
For a cool, real bath.
The wrestle they’ve had
With iron, bricks and rocks
Would come as colourful scenes
In their late night’s sleep
When their wives simply lie beside
Dreaming not a hot wet touch
But some silver shining bowls.
- J T Jayasingh
Life with Cosmic Consciousness
Gazing from the Dover beach the Victorian poet Mathew Arnold could only have the glimpse of the darker sides of life. The sea revealed to him as it had revealed to Sophocles long ego life’s secrets:
“… for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.”
But in another era, another milieu the sea revealed to David, the symbolic root of Jesus, the negligence and meagerness of human existence only to magnify God’s might and love upon them.
Seas and oceans like sky and mountains can time and time again reveal the unrevealed. They are everlasting sources of mystic experience and knowledge. Whenever I watch a sea from its shore I am awestruck and it makes me to forget about time and space.
The vast expanse of blue clothing, the horizon which keeps on setting renewed targets and the never ending waves take me to different lands and higher altitudes of philosophic and mystical experiences. To me waves symbolize life which is fickle yet constant: no two waves are the same but there are waves present always from eternity to eternity. The vastness of ocean outruns human history if not space. The sea has sparked the same fire since the beginning of human life in men and women of different times. Their feelings, emotions and thoughts have passed but the sea is there to evoke the same thoughts again and again. So oceans tie me down with the humanity past, present and future. This is what the great mystic poet Walt Whitman experienced at the Brooklyn River:
“It avail not, time nor place-distance avails not,
I am with you, you men and women of a generation, or ever so many generations hence,
Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt”
Ocean and sky also give me a cosmic consciousness. Alone, watching the sky or ocean, especially at night make me feel the oneness with the whole universe. Sometimes I feel like flying from star to star, all powerful. I can smell and taste the expanse.
I am capable of thinking logically too. But whatever logic disturbs my belief in God or the super natural power gets nullified when I look at the sky. When the eyes are raised towards the sky I come to know there is no beginning and end to space and time. It reveals the truth that there is God or the supernatural power in the beginning and end of time and space.
When I experience the cosmic consciousness there is no time, space, boundaries, countries, castes, genus and species to me. All are the part of the one and the only one. This state is absolutely joyful and one can achieve spiritual bliss.
If human beings have the physical state, mental state and the spiritual state (super natural) of being then they have to experience all the three. People have to occasionally go through the mystic experience. If they learn to live with the cosmic consciousness then many problems in life would be solved.
Do experiences die? Have the emotions and actions expressed by the humans since time immemorial died never to return back? No I believe the experiences of humans crisscrossing time are still there in the universe as waves. They become the collective knowledge, memory and consciousness of the universe. Hence when I gaze at the ravines and peaks of the mountains, sages and laymen of the past stand side by side with me to feel and think like me. If you have the collective consciousness, you can feel the consciousness of every cell move in the universe to the complete oneness because waves won’t die.
Of late I find peace and companionship in nature like the great poets of yesteryears. Every chirp and hum of birds, the gentle nods of bushes and trees at the touch of the impalpable breeze and of course the sky with its magic of colour gives me an unexplainable pleasure. This meditation reveals to me divine secrets. This meditation reveals to me the hands behind this art. This meditation reveals to me who am I.
J T Jayasingh
“… for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.”
But in another era, another milieu the sea revealed to David, the symbolic root of Jesus, the negligence and meagerness of human existence only to magnify God’s might and love upon them.
Seas and oceans like sky and mountains can time and time again reveal the unrevealed. They are everlasting sources of mystic experience and knowledge. Whenever I watch a sea from its shore I am awestruck and it makes me to forget about time and space.
The vast expanse of blue clothing, the horizon which keeps on setting renewed targets and the never ending waves take me to different lands and higher altitudes of philosophic and mystical experiences. To me waves symbolize life which is fickle yet constant: no two waves are the same but there are waves present always from eternity to eternity. The vastness of ocean outruns human history if not space. The sea has sparked the same fire since the beginning of human life in men and women of different times. Their feelings, emotions and thoughts have passed but the sea is there to evoke the same thoughts again and again. So oceans tie me down with the humanity past, present and future. This is what the great mystic poet Walt Whitman experienced at the Brooklyn River:
“It avail not, time nor place-distance avails not,
I am with you, you men and women of a generation, or ever so many generations hence,
Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt”
Ocean and sky also give me a cosmic consciousness. Alone, watching the sky or ocean, especially at night make me feel the oneness with the whole universe. Sometimes I feel like flying from star to star, all powerful. I can smell and taste the expanse.
I am capable of thinking logically too. But whatever logic disturbs my belief in God or the super natural power gets nullified when I look at the sky. When the eyes are raised towards the sky I come to know there is no beginning and end to space and time. It reveals the truth that there is God or the supernatural power in the beginning and end of time and space.
When I experience the cosmic consciousness there is no time, space, boundaries, countries, castes, genus and species to me. All are the part of the one and the only one. This state is absolutely joyful and one can achieve spiritual bliss.
If human beings have the physical state, mental state and the spiritual state (super natural) of being then they have to experience all the three. People have to occasionally go through the mystic experience. If they learn to live with the cosmic consciousness then many problems in life would be solved.
Do experiences die? Have the emotions and actions expressed by the humans since time immemorial died never to return back? No I believe the experiences of humans crisscrossing time are still there in the universe as waves. They become the collective knowledge, memory and consciousness of the universe. Hence when I gaze at the ravines and peaks of the mountains, sages and laymen of the past stand side by side with me to feel and think like me. If you have the collective consciousness, you can feel the consciousness of every cell move in the universe to the complete oneness because waves won’t die.
Of late I find peace and companionship in nature like the great poets of yesteryears. Every chirp and hum of birds, the gentle nods of bushes and trees at the touch of the impalpable breeze and of course the sky with its magic of colour gives me an unexplainable pleasure. This meditation reveals to me divine secrets. This meditation reveals to me the hands behind this art. This meditation reveals to me who am I.
J T Jayasingh
18 February, 2009
09 February, 2009
Lazarus at the Gate
Lazarus at the Gate
“Let’s perish the earth if there is no food for a single man…”
- Subramanya Bharati
Pleasant sunlight spread through the dew drenched green plants and give sweet warmth to every living beings. Eternal love birds sing their everlasting notes from mango grooves. Majestic human beings in all their youth and vigor work, eat, sing, dance, and lead joyfully their everlasting life. Almost every human being in the world love to realize the above mentioned life: a life with insatiating pleasure, overwhelming joy, everlasting peace, unbiased equality, unlimited liberty; a life without pains, sufferings, quarrels, bondages, diseases and of course death. Perhaps this is only man’s utopian vision but this is what all religions promise in the Kingdom of God or in Ramarajyam or in Heaven. And this is what at least some idealists and philanthropists try to achieve in this world to little success.
Liberty and equality are the two major needs of all human beings. But ironically the same two have been restricted to the social animals by their own breeds ever since the dawn of human civilization. Like Gautama I too have seen sufferings, deaths, bondages and economic imbalances in our world time and time again. But I can’t venture into finding out an absolute and permanent solution for that in this world.
When men were gatherers and hunters they were completely self sufficient and depending on nature. Slowly they started settling down, did farming, got surplus, started thinking, and made equipments. When population increased a situation raised where experts were needed for doing different supportive activities. As a result people were no longer self sufficient rather they exchanged goods and labour. Again population exploded in proportion to industrial revolution and vice versa, number of different trades increased, currency came into transaction: all these culminated in new economic systems. Kingdoms and governments and their policies played a vital role in determining the economic well being of a country and its citizens.
I have heard, read and seen kings, emperors, rulers, dictators, presidents and prime ministers, all failing in maintaining an economic balance in their countries. Latest to add to that list is the failure of globalization in giving economic equality and stability. One may argue that in a socialistic country economic equality can be maintained. It is absolutely true. But the darker side is that freedom is sacrificed at the altar of socialism. This is something like sacrificing one eye to protect the other.
In a democratic country of course people have enough liberty but unfortunately there are Lazaruses waiting at the gate of rich barons. Now in this globalized scenario it is more so. Some argue enormous accrual of wealth by a few business classes will ultimately benefit all the citizens. But will it take place and how long we have to wait for it to take place is a matter of wait and see.
In my knowledge among all these political set ups, policies and philosophies no one could give a permanent solution to economical inequality. It is true; today the most acceptable form of government is democracy where all enjoy enough freedom even to exploit others. Here the survival of the fittest is encouraged so much so the huge void between the rich and the poor is ever widening. Hence it is my absolute conviction that within the democratic set up what can create an economic equality is Christian socialism. Whatever is the philosophy of a government, capabilities and noble visions of a leader if individuals don’t change then the world won’t change for the best.
In Christian socialism there is no compulsion. Every individual is willing to share his surplus with his neibhour. This needs personal change of mind. This is what living love according to christinity or the teachings of any other religion in the world. And this should be one aspect of the modern concept of responsible living. If every economically blessed being is ready to extend a helping hand to his needy neibhour I am sure there won’t be poverty in this world if not economical inequality. This is a humble step forward in building the Kingdom of God or Ramarajyam or Heaven.
“THERE IS NO WEALTH BUT LIFE”. Life including all its powers of life, of joy, and of admiration. That country is the richest which nourishes the greatest number of noble and happy human beings…..”
- John Ruskin
“Let’s perish the earth if there is no food for a single man…”
- Subramanya Bharati
Pleasant sunlight spread through the dew drenched green plants and give sweet warmth to every living beings. Eternal love birds sing their everlasting notes from mango grooves. Majestic human beings in all their youth and vigor work, eat, sing, dance, and lead joyfully their everlasting life. Almost every human being in the world love to realize the above mentioned life: a life with insatiating pleasure, overwhelming joy, everlasting peace, unbiased equality, unlimited liberty; a life without pains, sufferings, quarrels, bondages, diseases and of course death. Perhaps this is only man’s utopian vision but this is what all religions promise in the Kingdom of God or in Ramarajyam or in Heaven. And this is what at least some idealists and philanthropists try to achieve in this world to little success.
Liberty and equality are the two major needs of all human beings. But ironically the same two have been restricted to the social animals by their own breeds ever since the dawn of human civilization. Like Gautama I too have seen sufferings, deaths, bondages and economic imbalances in our world time and time again. But I can’t venture into finding out an absolute and permanent solution for that in this world.
When men were gatherers and hunters they were completely self sufficient and depending on nature. Slowly they started settling down, did farming, got surplus, started thinking, and made equipments. When population increased a situation raised where experts were needed for doing different supportive activities. As a result people were no longer self sufficient rather they exchanged goods and labour. Again population exploded in proportion to industrial revolution and vice versa, number of different trades increased, currency came into transaction: all these culminated in new economic systems. Kingdoms and governments and their policies played a vital role in determining the economic well being of a country and its citizens.
I have heard, read and seen kings, emperors, rulers, dictators, presidents and prime ministers, all failing in maintaining an economic balance in their countries. Latest to add to that list is the failure of globalization in giving economic equality and stability. One may argue that in a socialistic country economic equality can be maintained. It is absolutely true. But the darker side is that freedom is sacrificed at the altar of socialism. This is something like sacrificing one eye to protect the other.
In a democratic country of course people have enough liberty but unfortunately there are Lazaruses waiting at the gate of rich barons. Now in this globalized scenario it is more so. Some argue enormous accrual of wealth by a few business classes will ultimately benefit all the citizens. But will it take place and how long we have to wait for it to take place is a matter of wait and see.
In my knowledge among all these political set ups, policies and philosophies no one could give a permanent solution to economical inequality. It is true; today the most acceptable form of government is democracy where all enjoy enough freedom even to exploit others. Here the survival of the fittest is encouraged so much so the huge void between the rich and the poor is ever widening. Hence it is my absolute conviction that within the democratic set up what can create an economic equality is Christian socialism. Whatever is the philosophy of a government, capabilities and noble visions of a leader if individuals don’t change then the world won’t change for the best.
In Christian socialism there is no compulsion. Every individual is willing to share his surplus with his neibhour. This needs personal change of mind. This is what living love according to christinity or the teachings of any other religion in the world. And this should be one aspect of the modern concept of responsible living. If every economically blessed being is ready to extend a helping hand to his needy neibhour I am sure there won’t be poverty in this world if not economical inequality. This is a humble step forward in building the Kingdom of God or Ramarajyam or Heaven.
“THERE IS NO WEALTH BUT LIFE”. Life including all its powers of life, of joy, and of admiration. That country is the richest which nourishes the greatest number of noble and happy human beings…..”
- John Ruskin
Tears of Change
What gathering is this,
Of song and dance and outburst
And a rare blend of black and white?
What rhythm pierces my heart
In the backdrop of a modern drama?
It reminds me of a rhythm which flourished
In the deep African jungles
Before historians learned their art.
Oh wild emotional cries
Do you come out of joy or sorrow
Or a mix of long suppressed emotions?
Which are more costly tears here
The ones shed by the real liberated souls
Or those shed by their former masters
For their fathers’ mistakes rewritten?
I don’t know!
But I know,
You are the change!
You are the peak of human history,
You are the end of an end,
Barack Obama
I have a glimpse of your forefathers
Burnt even by the cruel sun,
Who tattooed their pains in their flesh,
Who as buffaloes were sold and thrashed
In the apartheid market places.
I recollect your hungry eyes,
Dried flesh and burned skin.
When oodles of freedom enshrined
The living beings on the earth
You like Lucifer’s party were chained
To groan and fume.
Oh black beauties,
Art of oil and cloud,
I capture the scene of
You chained in the ashes.
Oh dearest Africans,
You are the real emotional beings:
When you sing,
When you laugh,
When you cry,
I see the passion of emotions.
Today I see
Luther, Biko, Lincoln
Mandela, Gandhi and
A million others
Shed tears in the sky
The tears of change!
Of song and dance and outburst
And a rare blend of black and white?
What rhythm pierces my heart
In the backdrop of a modern drama?
It reminds me of a rhythm which flourished
In the deep African jungles
Before historians learned their art.
Oh wild emotional cries
Do you come out of joy or sorrow
Or a mix of long suppressed emotions?
Which are more costly tears here
The ones shed by the real liberated souls
Or those shed by their former masters
For their fathers’ mistakes rewritten?
I don’t know!
But I know,
You are the change!
You are the peak of human history,
You are the end of an end,
Barack Obama
I have a glimpse of your forefathers
Burnt even by the cruel sun,
Who tattooed their pains in their flesh,
Who as buffaloes were sold and thrashed
In the apartheid market places.
I recollect your hungry eyes,
Dried flesh and burned skin.
When oodles of freedom enshrined
The living beings on the earth
You like Lucifer’s party were chained
To groan and fume.
Oh black beauties,
Art of oil and cloud,
I capture the scene of
You chained in the ashes.
Oh dearest Africans,
You are the real emotional beings:
When you sing,
When you laugh,
When you cry,
I see the passion of emotions.
Today I see
Luther, Biko, Lincoln
Mandela, Gandhi and
A million others
Shed tears in the sky
The tears of change!
12 January, 2009
I am a Poet
I am a poet
Who was born of pleasure and pain.
I was destined and sent here
To preach freedom
That’s in my vain.
Above science, above history supreme is my art.
Not from flesh or from nerves
It pours down from my heart.
In my country, I see,
So many winding roads.
Oh here each curve witnesses
Martyrs of truth and freedom.
They killed my castes and made outcasts.
But again we resurrect
And from poet to poet
We pass on the ultimate cause.
I am the voice, I declare,
Voice of the voiceless.
I am the beacon for ever
Near the dwindling light.
Here, I am the poet
In this watch
To guide the confused vessels
Till another one come over here
To take my fiery torch.
Who was born of pleasure and pain.
I was destined and sent here
To preach freedom
That’s in my vain.
Above science, above history supreme is my art.
Not from flesh or from nerves
It pours down from my heart.
In my country, I see,
So many winding roads.
Oh here each curve witnesses
Martyrs of truth and freedom.
They killed my castes and made outcasts.
But again we resurrect
And from poet to poet
We pass on the ultimate cause.
I am the voice, I declare,
Voice of the voiceless.
I am the beacon for ever
Near the dwindling light.
Here, I am the poet
In this watch
To guide the confused vessels
Till another one come over here
To take my fiery torch.
Somewhere in the Darkness
Somewhere in the darkness
A church bell rings;
It takes me to the
Sweet melodies of Muhammed Rafi
Floating on the breeze;
It shows me color of pink,
Red and black
Which were the colors worn by
The tender Gujarati women
Dancing in the sun hot plains.
My mind eschews the day
A new TV came to my home:
My young mind dreamt
Seeing dances and forms
Of everywhere hitherto unknown
When whatever I saw had
A hallo of romantic glory.
Now my vacant mind yawns
For that glory:
The promised color, form and love,
My long anticipated love.
Is it a clash of day and night?
25. Searching for Something Somewhere
My mind, why are you flying
In the speed of a train?
Look at the people,
Modern men and women
In their middies and jeans
Perfectly preparing for their tasks.
My mind, why are you flying back,
Long back to the idle poets?
When there is head load of works,
When there are computer amusements
Why are you flying back
Lonely to the dark ages?
When all the world is moving
Forward to the digital life
Why are you searching for something somewhere?
A church bell rings;
It takes me to the
Sweet melodies of Muhammed Rafi
Floating on the breeze;
It shows me color of pink,
Red and black
Which were the colors worn by
The tender Gujarati women
Dancing in the sun hot plains.
My mind eschews the day
A new TV came to my home:
My young mind dreamt
Seeing dances and forms
Of everywhere hitherto unknown
When whatever I saw had
A hallo of romantic glory.
Now my vacant mind yawns
For that glory:
The promised color, form and love,
My long anticipated love.
Is it a clash of day and night?
25. Searching for Something Somewhere
My mind, why are you flying
In the speed of a train?
Look at the people,
Modern men and women
In their middies and jeans
Perfectly preparing for their tasks.
My mind, why are you flying back,
Long back to the idle poets?
When there is head load of works,
When there are computer amusements
Why are you flying back
Lonely to the dark ages?
When all the world is moving
Forward to the digital life
Why are you searching for something somewhere?
My Wishes
Once I walked along a river bank in a silent dusk and a little movement I felt in the bushes and there a motherly brownish cow was grazing. The peace on its face was simply amazing. She was unbelievably self content and enjoying every chew. Does a cow have any wishes in life? If it has, is it realistic or unrealistic? I don’t know. But I know human beings have wishes. I am not writing about greediness but simple wishes, perhaps realistic and unrealistic. I believe that all the human beings in the world deserve to experience at least these little wishes in this small, beautiful life otherwise in all probability life would simply turn to be a struggle to pass the days.
In a Tamil film the heroine sings about her little, little wishes: ‘I wish to plant paddy in a slushy field… I wish to catch fish to leave it again into water’, the lines go like this. It happened to be A.R. Rehman’s first assignment as a music director, in the Maniratnam film, Roja. The song became an instantaneous hit not only because of great direction, glorious music and mellifluous voice but also to a great extend because of the hitherto untouched simple but universal subject, ‘little, little wishes.
Sitting on the bank of a stream in a silent mountainous area in the evening and watching the sky would be an enthralling experience. The gurgling sound of the flowing water, the occasional chirping and screeching sound of the returning birds and of course the slow change of paints in the sky would take me to heaven.
Sky is a wonderful philosopher. Sky watching gives me immense pleasure and knowledge. Whenever I watch the sky in the evening or night I feel the presence of God and come to know that something divine, blissful, beyond my knowledge is existing. So I would be pleased to spend two, three hours at a stretch during dusk by a stream side watching the changing sky, flowing water and birds flying back to their nests.
Years ago when I just crossed adolescence an unknown chaos engulfed my mind. My soul searched for something real, perhaps a real companion or truth, I don’t know exactly what. Then I would go to a small hill called, Thirumalai just two and a half kilometers away from my home and climb over it. It was also a small pilgrim centre of the Hindu devotees. The moment I sat on the hill, very close to the sky a kind of peace spread through my mind. Even now whenever I feel peace less in my heart I wish to climb to climb up and sit on the hill, very close to the sky alone, all alone.
First rain after a prolonged summer would be always welcomed by all. Rain has different charms in different seasons. Summer rain is so robust, violent and long lasting. It is usually accompanied by horrendous thunder and lightning. First it is forecast by the amalgamation of dark clouds, and then little drizzle evokes the fragrance of soil, then a robust downpour for hours. Simply chewing some snacks with a cup of hot evaporating tea and peeping through a window the dance of trees, spray of rain drops and wet people and birds taking shelter during a summer rain is something which I always love to experience.
I think sometimes I must be excused to dream about a wish which is unrealistic. I am always jealous of birds to fly like them. In this world the creatures that enjoy their life most are birds. Whenever they want they can have a smooth take off and soar high, high in the air embracing the cool current of air and experiencing the panoramic view of the world. They can fly, glide, swoop and dive. They can fly over the oceans, rivers, mountains, deserts, huge buildings and simply what not. I know this wish to fly like a bird may be only a dream.
Another important experience which is missing later in my life and I was blessed with in my childhood is a late evening bath in a village pond or stream. After a day long study and sports practice in the evening it would be simply heart warming to have a bath in the moonlit pond or stream. Wrapping a towel around and plunging myself into the warm water I would watch the reflection of moon in the water. The curly shadows of coconut trees wavering with the small waves and the occasional pinches of small fish is a rarity to experience. Sometimes I would watch the tired labourers joyfully chat and refresh themselves by cracking jokes while taking bath. Sometimes I would be all alone in the wide full pond.
Traveling in a bus sitting in the window seat is something worth doing. I would be extremely happy and thrilled if the ride is through a not very busy city in the night. People would be charming and have a glow when we see them drenched in the night city light. The glittering shops, sparkling vehicles and dazzling skyscrapers would proclaim man’s fantasy and ability to create an artificial heaven on earth. After all light makes all charms on things in life. Sometimes even after a long journey it would be displeasing for me to get down from the bus.
Life is simply a journey. Every moment is filled with experiences. Some we love to have again and again and some we want to forget for ever. We humans have wishes to enjoy which are realistic and unrealistic. In this short life we have every right to have these wishes whether attainable or unattainable without which life would be so hard and too much realistic.
In a Tamil film the heroine sings about her little, little wishes: ‘I wish to plant paddy in a slushy field… I wish to catch fish to leave it again into water’, the lines go like this. It happened to be A.R. Rehman’s first assignment as a music director, in the Maniratnam film, Roja. The song became an instantaneous hit not only because of great direction, glorious music and mellifluous voice but also to a great extend because of the hitherto untouched simple but universal subject, ‘little, little wishes.
Sitting on the bank of a stream in a silent mountainous area in the evening and watching the sky would be an enthralling experience. The gurgling sound of the flowing water, the occasional chirping and screeching sound of the returning birds and of course the slow change of paints in the sky would take me to heaven.
Sky is a wonderful philosopher. Sky watching gives me immense pleasure and knowledge. Whenever I watch the sky in the evening or night I feel the presence of God and come to know that something divine, blissful, beyond my knowledge is existing. So I would be pleased to spend two, three hours at a stretch during dusk by a stream side watching the changing sky, flowing water and birds flying back to their nests.
Years ago when I just crossed adolescence an unknown chaos engulfed my mind. My soul searched for something real, perhaps a real companion or truth, I don’t know exactly what. Then I would go to a small hill called, Thirumalai just two and a half kilometers away from my home and climb over it. It was also a small pilgrim centre of the Hindu devotees. The moment I sat on the hill, very close to the sky a kind of peace spread through my mind. Even now whenever I feel peace less in my heart I wish to climb to climb up and sit on the hill, very close to the sky alone, all alone.
First rain after a prolonged summer would be always welcomed by all. Rain has different charms in different seasons. Summer rain is so robust, violent and long lasting. It is usually accompanied by horrendous thunder and lightning. First it is forecast by the amalgamation of dark clouds, and then little drizzle evokes the fragrance of soil, then a robust downpour for hours. Simply chewing some snacks with a cup of hot evaporating tea and peeping through a window the dance of trees, spray of rain drops and wet people and birds taking shelter during a summer rain is something which I always love to experience.
I think sometimes I must be excused to dream about a wish which is unrealistic. I am always jealous of birds to fly like them. In this world the creatures that enjoy their life most are birds. Whenever they want they can have a smooth take off and soar high, high in the air embracing the cool current of air and experiencing the panoramic view of the world. They can fly, glide, swoop and dive. They can fly over the oceans, rivers, mountains, deserts, huge buildings and simply what not. I know this wish to fly like a bird may be only a dream.
Another important experience which is missing later in my life and I was blessed with in my childhood is a late evening bath in a village pond or stream. After a day long study and sports practice in the evening it would be simply heart warming to have a bath in the moonlit pond or stream. Wrapping a towel around and plunging myself into the warm water I would watch the reflection of moon in the water. The curly shadows of coconut trees wavering with the small waves and the occasional pinches of small fish is a rarity to experience. Sometimes I would watch the tired labourers joyfully chat and refresh themselves by cracking jokes while taking bath. Sometimes I would be all alone in the wide full pond.
Traveling in a bus sitting in the window seat is something worth doing. I would be extremely happy and thrilled if the ride is through a not very busy city in the night. People would be charming and have a glow when we see them drenched in the night city light. The glittering shops, sparkling vehicles and dazzling skyscrapers would proclaim man’s fantasy and ability to create an artificial heaven on earth. After all light makes all charms on things in life. Sometimes even after a long journey it would be displeasing for me to get down from the bus.
Life is simply a journey. Every moment is filled with experiences. Some we love to have again and again and some we want to forget for ever. We humans have wishes to enjoy which are realistic and unrealistic. In this short life we have every right to have these wishes whether attainable or unattainable without which life would be so hard and too much realistic.
18 September, 2008
I, a Mango Tree
I am old now
Not in human age
But of our own.
I am lonely and desolate
For no breed of my kind is
Found anywhere near.
Oh! Once we had our time:
I with my parents, siblings
And friends lived.
Even then I felt
The signs of their enmity:
Even their young ones
Threw stones upon my Mom
After chewing her delicious fruits.
“It is hard to read their nature”,
Once my father said,
When he was a leafy bush.
Sometimes they watered us
And gave us food too
But only to harass,
Cut and chop into pieces
At their peak of madness.
I too had spring time
When I met my mate.
How handsome he was
With greenly, juicy leaves
And strong muscular boughs.
In a breezy august
He sent his first love message
Through the cute, tiny sparrow.
Then day by day we danced
In our ecstatic mood.
I blushed and flowered
To produce cute, golden fruits.
Birds played upon my bosom,
Squirrels lived on my boughs,
They too liked me then
Perhaps for my fruits.
Look there, the huge buildings!
All this place was once
The grove of my kind,
Then there was cool breeze
Magic scent, fruits, flowers,
Lovers, birds, squirrels
And all vibrant life.
But all ended on a May Day:
One after another all my kiths
Were chopped into pieces.
I watched all with pain and tears
And then mushroomed skyscrapers.
I don’t know why all these happen!
I don’t know whether they know why!
I am all alone now to see
Another May day in my life!
Is it my fate?
Not in human age
But of our own.
I am lonely and desolate
For no breed of my kind is
Found anywhere near.
Oh! Once we had our time:
I with my parents, siblings
And friends lived.
Even then I felt
The signs of their enmity:
Even their young ones
Threw stones upon my Mom
After chewing her delicious fruits.
“It is hard to read their nature”,
Once my father said,
When he was a leafy bush.
Sometimes they watered us
And gave us food too
But only to harass,
Cut and chop into pieces
At their peak of madness.
I too had spring time
When I met my mate.
How handsome he was
With greenly, juicy leaves
And strong muscular boughs.
In a breezy august
He sent his first love message
Through the cute, tiny sparrow.
Then day by day we danced
In our ecstatic mood.
I blushed and flowered
To produce cute, golden fruits.
Birds played upon my bosom,
Squirrels lived on my boughs,
They too liked me then
Perhaps for my fruits.
Look there, the huge buildings!
All this place was once
The grove of my kind,
Then there was cool breeze
Magic scent, fruits, flowers,
Lovers, birds, squirrels
And all vibrant life.
But all ended on a May Day:
One after another all my kiths
Were chopped into pieces.
I watched all with pain and tears
And then mushroomed skyscrapers.
I don’t know why all these happen!
I don’t know whether they know why!
I am all alone now to see
Another May day in my life!
Is it my fate?
Farmer
With the smell of clay
And taste of sweat, he toils.
When his spade scoops a piece of earth’
It sends shudders through my nerves,
But the next moment I wish
To take a spade and scoop.
He sows, manures, waters,
Removes the weeds out:
All not in the same day
But slowly, intermittently.
He keeps his nerves when
A tiny worm makes designs
On the tender twigs,
When a deadly fly sucks out
The blood of juicy boughs
And alas! One day, when a mad wind
Uprooted his child like plants.
There are lines of pain on his forehead
Hidden by the trickling sweat
But cool is he like a breeze,
Kind is he like a mother cow;
When the first flower blooms
Blissful is he like the God!
And taste of sweat, he toils.
When his spade scoops a piece of earth’
It sends shudders through my nerves,
But the next moment I wish
To take a spade and scoop.
He sows, manures, waters,
Removes the weeds out:
All not in the same day
But slowly, intermittently.
He keeps his nerves when
A tiny worm makes designs
On the tender twigs,
When a deadly fly sucks out
The blood of juicy boughs
And alas! One day, when a mad wind
Uprooted his child like plants.
There are lines of pain on his forehead
Hidden by the trickling sweat
But cool is he like a breeze,
Kind is he like a mother cow;
When the first flower blooms
Blissful is he like the God!
Deer
Her trembling hind legs
Gently pressed against
The rumbling dry leaves.
Careful, so careful, she moved
Step by step.
Her silky skin vibrated
For every tic-tac sound
Passing a chilly current
Through my inward nerves.
Oh! The dark succulent eyes
Which deserve thousand kisses
Frantically stared and rolled,
The twig like ears gently turned.
Suddenly a violent turn she made
Escaping from the dark power
Which chased wildly to suck her blood:
For some time a struggle
Between gentle meekness
And arrogant lust.
Finally the love thirst eyes welled up,
Stream lined neck bled,
Caught into the claws of death.
Reminding the crucified lamb
She won by sacrificing her life,
By the beauty of her meekness
Gently pressed against
The rumbling dry leaves.
Careful, so careful, she moved
Step by step.
Her silky skin vibrated
For every tic-tac sound
Passing a chilly current
Through my inward nerves.
Oh! The dark succulent eyes
Which deserve thousand kisses
Frantically stared and rolled,
The twig like ears gently turned.
Suddenly a violent turn she made
Escaping from the dark power
Which chased wildly to suck her blood:
For some time a struggle
Between gentle meekness
And arrogant lust.
Finally the love thirst eyes welled up,
Stream lined neck bled,
Caught into the claws of death.
Reminding the crucified lamb
She won by sacrificing her life,
By the beauty of her meekness
17 April, 2008
Her Marble Legs
Every move of her marble legs
Made millions to fly in dreams:
More than the winking of her eyes
The eyes of cameras flashed,
Capturing her every
Physiological parts;
Perhaps to magnify,
Touch, retouch and print
In every possible angles,
At last only to sell.
While entering into
Human seas,
Her minute sighs, smiles,
Blushes and all sexual moves
Were admired with zealous and jealous.
Everyone tried nearing,
Touching and kissing her:
She was a touch so near
But miles far away,
And her untouched virgin heart
Was a world far away.
Oh she knew that all these were
Until her skin got a shrink,
Until these fickle minds
Turned to another pair of silky legs,
When tears rolled down secretly
Without camera flashes.
Her Divine Song
I beheld her divine song
In crimson, yellow and azure.
The color emanated from
The beauty of her deepest soul:
There flowed the aroma of rose,
The gentle touch of magic breeze,
The bite of cherry and chill of ice.
It brought me visions of floating kites,
Gushing silver falls,
Green and silky landscapes
And fluorescent sillalhoutes.
I mingled with color,
Fragrance, sweetness and touch
To soar high, high in the universe
With all my comrades:
Birds, flies and plants;
To reach inside me;
To wonder all the colors,
Forms, notes and fragrances:
All like diadems, unraveled,
Glistening deep inside me.
Made millions to fly in dreams:
More than the winking of her eyes
The eyes of cameras flashed,
Capturing her every
Physiological parts;
Perhaps to magnify,
Touch, retouch and print
In every possible angles,
At last only to sell.
While entering into
Human seas,
Her minute sighs, smiles,
Blushes and all sexual moves
Were admired with zealous and jealous.
Everyone tried nearing,
Touching and kissing her:
She was a touch so near
But miles far away,
And her untouched virgin heart
Was a world far away.
Oh she knew that all these were
Until her skin got a shrink,
Until these fickle minds
Turned to another pair of silky legs,
When tears rolled down secretly
Without camera flashes.
Her Divine Song
I beheld her divine song
In crimson, yellow and azure.
The color emanated from
The beauty of her deepest soul:
There flowed the aroma of rose,
The gentle touch of magic breeze,
The bite of cherry and chill of ice.
It brought me visions of floating kites,
Gushing silver falls,
Green and silky landscapes
And fluorescent sillalhoutes.
I mingled with color,
Fragrance, sweetness and touch
To soar high, high in the universe
With all my comrades:
Birds, flies and plants;
To reach inside me;
To wonder all the colors,
Forms, notes and fragrances:
All like diadems, unraveled,
Glistening deep inside me.
Leading from Behind
Leadership is a quality always praised in this world by people. T¬here are certain general principles accepted as standards which a successful leader should posses, like, leading in front, setting example, keeping positive attitude etc. In the game of cricket I have witnessed so many leaders (captains) since my childhood. As a great enthusiast of sports, especially cricket I have been wondering at the standards set by some of them like Imran Khan, Vivian Richards and Kapil Dev and their ability to lead in front. But I also know a boy who was not even a state level cricket player but only fortunate enough to participate in inter school and district level competitions. He was also a successful leader (captain) but never possessed the so called qualities a successful leader (captain) should have. He too led his ordinary team to achive extraordinary victories against some of the technically good and experienced teams only by leading from behind and not by leading in front. Isn’t it funny?
I still remember the happy day: when in one evening the Physical Director of our school informed the enthusiastic lads including me about the inclusion of cricket in the inter school competitions. At that time we were getting ready for a volleyball practice session. Hearing the news we embraced each other gleefully. Previously, cricket had not been included in the inter school competitions.
Immediately after the brief celebration, one of my intimate friends who was also a sportsman openly expressed his willingness to become the captain of the cricket team that would be formed soon. At that time I was the captain of a local club team and he was playing under me. Obviously he had almost all the abovementioned qualities of a good leader. He was positive, aggressive and had a commanding power over the players. But inspite of all his plus points, the players selected me as their captain, a seemingly slow, calm, thinking, always going from behind person. I don’t know, whether it happened because of my fortune, God’s grace or their love and respect upon me or all these three.
In fact in those days I was going to school not for studying anything but for playing and playing only. I was thinking about cricket, dreaming about cricket and even ready to sacrifice my other interests and entertainments for the victory of our cricket team. Still it is in my memory how I was cutting the classes by saying some false reasons to the class teacher and watching the world cup Cricket Tournament when I was studying S.S.L.C. I believe that I was dedicated to and enthusiastic about cricket.
How much money I spent not only for buying sports articles but also for sports magazines like Sports Star and Champion. There were not coaches and trainers available in those days for us. Even our Physical Director did not know much about cricket. So I tried to learn all the technical things like fast bowling, spin bowling, field setting etc. by eagerly watching the plays in television and through hard reading. Yes, I was a very good learner. I was humble enough to learn something even from the twelth man of our team.
I used to set a game plan even one week ahead of a particular match. I used to think about the batting order, bowling strategy and field setting. During the initial stage of our team formation I did some changes in my team and that proved very effective in the crucial final match of the first inter school tournament. Firstly, I changed one of the fast bowlers as an off spinner and another spin bowler as a pace man after a careful reading of their abilities. Surprisingly after this change they performed quite well. Therewas another person who was also a fast bowler. He could bowl out swingers but his bowling was not disciplined. So I changed him as a leg spinner. Hence, finally we had three fast bowlers, one leg spinner and one off spinner which was a very good combination. In the final match of the tournament these two spinners shared seven wickets between themselves and got us victory.
Always in the previous nights of matches, I used to draw picture of the play ground in a piece of paper to plan the fielding set up and would go late to sleep. And always my thinking would workout.
Begun as a opening batsman and opening fast bowler, later I changed myself as a spin bowler (not regular) and second down batsman only for the sake of the team. I never sought my glory. Actually I was going backward pushing my teammates to the front. I encouraged them, complimented them and gave them opportunity to come up and made them aware of their talents only for the team’s sake. In all these things I was not in their front but always in their back.
During the match days even my team mates would tease me like “Why are you dull?”, “Why are you not seeing girls?”, “Why don’t you entertain with us?” etc. But I only knew in the heart of my heart; how many vows I had taken with God? How much time I had prayed to God? And how many things I was ready to sacrifice for the sake of my team and its victory. I hope you have met a different kind of leader, one who was leading from behind.
I still remember the happy day: when in one evening the Physical Director of our school informed the enthusiastic lads including me about the inclusion of cricket in the inter school competitions. At that time we were getting ready for a volleyball practice session. Hearing the news we embraced each other gleefully. Previously, cricket had not been included in the inter school competitions.
Immediately after the brief celebration, one of my intimate friends who was also a sportsman openly expressed his willingness to become the captain of the cricket team that would be formed soon. At that time I was the captain of a local club team and he was playing under me. Obviously he had almost all the abovementioned qualities of a good leader. He was positive, aggressive and had a commanding power over the players. But inspite of all his plus points, the players selected me as their captain, a seemingly slow, calm, thinking, always going from behind person. I don’t know, whether it happened because of my fortune, God’s grace or their love and respect upon me or all these three.
In fact in those days I was going to school not for studying anything but for playing and playing only. I was thinking about cricket, dreaming about cricket and even ready to sacrifice my other interests and entertainments for the victory of our cricket team. Still it is in my memory how I was cutting the classes by saying some false reasons to the class teacher and watching the world cup Cricket Tournament when I was studying S.S.L.C. I believe that I was dedicated to and enthusiastic about cricket.
How much money I spent not only for buying sports articles but also for sports magazines like Sports Star and Champion. There were not coaches and trainers available in those days for us. Even our Physical Director did not know much about cricket. So I tried to learn all the technical things like fast bowling, spin bowling, field setting etc. by eagerly watching the plays in television and through hard reading. Yes, I was a very good learner. I was humble enough to learn something even from the twelth man of our team.
I used to set a game plan even one week ahead of a particular match. I used to think about the batting order, bowling strategy and field setting. During the initial stage of our team formation I did some changes in my team and that proved very effective in the crucial final match of the first inter school tournament. Firstly, I changed one of the fast bowlers as an off spinner and another spin bowler as a pace man after a careful reading of their abilities. Surprisingly after this change they performed quite well. Therewas another person who was also a fast bowler. He could bowl out swingers but his bowling was not disciplined. So I changed him as a leg spinner. Hence, finally we had three fast bowlers, one leg spinner and one off spinner which was a very good combination. In the final match of the tournament these two spinners shared seven wickets between themselves and got us victory.
Always in the previous nights of matches, I used to draw picture of the play ground in a piece of paper to plan the fielding set up and would go late to sleep. And always my thinking would workout.
Begun as a opening batsman and opening fast bowler, later I changed myself as a spin bowler (not regular) and second down batsman only for the sake of the team. I never sought my glory. Actually I was going backward pushing my teammates to the front. I encouraged them, complimented them and gave them opportunity to come up and made them aware of their talents only for the team’s sake. In all these things I was not in their front but always in their back.
During the match days even my team mates would tease me like “Why are you dull?”, “Why are you not seeing girls?”, “Why don’t you entertain with us?” etc. But I only knew in the heart of my heart; how many vows I had taken with God? How much time I had prayed to God? And how many things I was ready to sacrifice for the sake of my team and its victory. I hope you have met a different kind of leader, one who was leading from behind.
18 February, 2008
Bed Time Stories
Never in my childhood had I slept without listening stories from my mother. The practice had started in my early childhood itself and continued even when I reached the age of ten. There were only a few world classics, epics, religious mythologies, histories and children’s stories which my mother had not introduced to me and I myself read later. My brother and sister too had the same opportunity but I don’t know how far it affecter their lives. As I was a sensitive boy the bed time stories had and still have a great impact on my life.
Sometimes she told me stories while feeding me rice in the night. Her interesting stories and delicious rice mixed with fish and curry would satisfy my five senses simultaneously. Seldom had she told me stories to make me sleep. I used to usher her to tell more and more stories in a single stretch. I don’t know how she bore my irritation after doing a whole days duty in school and home. As a teacher of history she had the knack of telling stories interestingly. I still wonder the range of world classics she had been exposed to. She was an voracious reader and she used to read whatever materials came to her hand from Shakespeare’s Hamlet to a story published in a weekly magazine. Sometimes after finishing a hectic schedule she would sit even after 10 P.M. in the night just to read something.
Even if my father too was a very good reader his interests mainly fell on scientific, sociological and other diverse fields. His knowledge was minute and deep. As far as literature was concerned once he told me the story of Merchant of Venice on bed.
Sometimes I would sleep in between a story. Whenever that happened there would be horrible or sweet dreams in the night. Some other times my mother’s voice stumble, drag, stagger and eye lids struggle to be awaken at last to end up in sleep. In that situation my mind would imagine so many forms, colors, sounds and actions and sometimes analyze situations and character to find out some solutions.
Among all the stories, mythologies and histories, the stories from the Greek mythologies, especially from Odysseus; the stories Arabian Nights and the Japanese story of Cinderella influenced me the most.
Stories from the Arabian Nights were fascinating. More than Alibaba and Forty Thieves and Aladdin and Magic Lamp I was enthralled by the Adventures of Sindbath. His different sea voyages and the mysterious lands and characters he visited took me to the peak of imagination. In one story Sindbath happened to meet a huge bird to which he tied himself to land in a mysterious place and the peculiar way he collected precious stones, all these really drove me to another imaginary world.
I still believe that the imaginary world created in my mind by those stories made me happy and gave me another life. So I feel I had two lives in my childhood going along side. One real life with its loneliness, plays, quarrels, happy moments, fears and so on and another imaginary life with flying fantasies, wild ecstasies and colorful dreams but sometimes with deep thinking.
In one of his books V.S.Naipal conveys that he couldn’t enjoy the English novels completely- even the novels of Dickens – in his childhood. It was because he could not familiarize himself to the strange western backgrounds in those novels. He was not able to identify himself with the characters like David Copperfield.
In my case I was mostly fond of remote settings and strange characters which satisfied my imagination. The more remote the story was the more I could enjoy. Being one with or trying to place myself in a strange situation with mysterious or more than life characters was something absolutely fascinating in my childhood. In fact I needed that as a complement to my lonely childhood.
In Greek Mythologies mostly I liked the war heroics of Odysseus and other heroes. Odysseus’ valiant visit to the island and his encounter with the fabulous giants called Cyclopes created a peculiar world in my mind.
Just like Arabia and Greece, Russia and Japan were also my favorite dream lands because of the everlasting stories from those countries. While Greek and Arabian stories mostly dealt with adventure and might, Russian and Japanese stories dealt with the qualities of heart like kindness, love and suffering.
When I found Cinderella- a cute, yellow, round faced angelic girl- being compelled to do hard work weeping alone without any complaint in fact I wanted to save her or suffer with her which the prince did at last. Later I could identify Cinderella as the younger version of Desdemona but with a happy end. Both were gentle, gracious, tortured human souls. Still in my mind Japan and Japanese people have high esteem mainly because of Cinderella.
I was equally fond of the stories from the Bible and the two great Indian epics. Bible stories provided me with a moral sense. King David, the man of heart; Jonathan, a great friend; Moses, a great leader; Jacob, a human being and of course Samson, the tragic hero were the characters influenced me the most.
In my childhood I could not accept Samson’s fall. God was against Samson loving a girl of Palest. But I thought that his love must have been accepted by God. To me there should not be any cast or belief against love. But after all minds win over hearts in the practical life several times.
No food I have tasted so far could match the rice, curries and fish which my mother fed me. No stories were more fascinating and enchanting than my mother’s bed time stories. No more I can hear it and it is time I should become a story teller.
-J.T.Jayasingh
(Author: A Bird’s Eye View)
Sometimes she told me stories while feeding me rice in the night. Her interesting stories and delicious rice mixed with fish and curry would satisfy my five senses simultaneously. Seldom had she told me stories to make me sleep. I used to usher her to tell more and more stories in a single stretch. I don’t know how she bore my irritation after doing a whole days duty in school and home. As a teacher of history she had the knack of telling stories interestingly. I still wonder the range of world classics she had been exposed to. She was an voracious reader and she used to read whatever materials came to her hand from Shakespeare’s Hamlet to a story published in a weekly magazine. Sometimes after finishing a hectic schedule she would sit even after 10 P.M. in the night just to read something.
Even if my father too was a very good reader his interests mainly fell on scientific, sociological and other diverse fields. His knowledge was minute and deep. As far as literature was concerned once he told me the story of Merchant of Venice on bed.
Sometimes I would sleep in between a story. Whenever that happened there would be horrible or sweet dreams in the night. Some other times my mother’s voice stumble, drag, stagger and eye lids struggle to be awaken at last to end up in sleep. In that situation my mind would imagine so many forms, colors, sounds and actions and sometimes analyze situations and character to find out some solutions.
Among all the stories, mythologies and histories, the stories from the Greek mythologies, especially from Odysseus; the stories Arabian Nights and the Japanese story of Cinderella influenced me the most.
Stories from the Arabian Nights were fascinating. More than Alibaba and Forty Thieves and Aladdin and Magic Lamp I was enthralled by the Adventures of Sindbath. His different sea voyages and the mysterious lands and characters he visited took me to the peak of imagination. In one story Sindbath happened to meet a huge bird to which he tied himself to land in a mysterious place and the peculiar way he collected precious stones, all these really drove me to another imaginary world.
I still believe that the imaginary world created in my mind by those stories made me happy and gave me another life. So I feel I had two lives in my childhood going along side. One real life with its loneliness, plays, quarrels, happy moments, fears and so on and another imaginary life with flying fantasies, wild ecstasies and colorful dreams but sometimes with deep thinking.
In one of his books V.S.Naipal conveys that he couldn’t enjoy the English novels completely- even the novels of Dickens – in his childhood. It was because he could not familiarize himself to the strange western backgrounds in those novels. He was not able to identify himself with the characters like David Copperfield.
In my case I was mostly fond of remote settings and strange characters which satisfied my imagination. The more remote the story was the more I could enjoy. Being one with or trying to place myself in a strange situation with mysterious or more than life characters was something absolutely fascinating in my childhood. In fact I needed that as a complement to my lonely childhood.
In Greek Mythologies mostly I liked the war heroics of Odysseus and other heroes. Odysseus’ valiant visit to the island and his encounter with the fabulous giants called Cyclopes created a peculiar world in my mind.
Just like Arabia and Greece, Russia and Japan were also my favorite dream lands because of the everlasting stories from those countries. While Greek and Arabian stories mostly dealt with adventure and might, Russian and Japanese stories dealt with the qualities of heart like kindness, love and suffering.
When I found Cinderella- a cute, yellow, round faced angelic girl- being compelled to do hard work weeping alone without any complaint in fact I wanted to save her or suffer with her which the prince did at last. Later I could identify Cinderella as the younger version of Desdemona but with a happy end. Both were gentle, gracious, tortured human souls. Still in my mind Japan and Japanese people have high esteem mainly because of Cinderella.
I was equally fond of the stories from the Bible and the two great Indian epics. Bible stories provided me with a moral sense. King David, the man of heart; Jonathan, a great friend; Moses, a great leader; Jacob, a human being and of course Samson, the tragic hero were the characters influenced me the most.
In my childhood I could not accept Samson’s fall. God was against Samson loving a girl of Palest. But I thought that his love must have been accepted by God. To me there should not be any cast or belief against love. But after all minds win over hearts in the practical life several times.
No food I have tasted so far could match the rice, curries and fish which my mother fed me. No stories were more fascinating and enchanting than my mother’s bed time stories. No more I can hear it and it is time I should become a story teller.
-J.T.Jayasingh
(Author: A Bird’s Eye View)
They are Extinct
My son, look at the azure sky
And the yellowish red cloud
Cover the sun below.
Like this so many
Nature’s paintings were
Divinely described by them.
When horses and warriors fell,
My son, it was them who
Tightened the bones of laymen
To fight against the darkness.
When unidentified corpses
Were scattered across the streets
And graves were made without
Scribbled stones,
My son, they lamented upon them
And scribbled in their pages.
When human hearts were darkened
With greed and pride,
My son, their fiery words
Purged their souls.
Behold, the worn out hut
Down in the valley of shrubs,
There lived the last one of that kind.
I have a hackneyed vision
Of the man with the walk of an oxen
And vision of an eagle,
Killed in front of the modern men.
There was four times rain
And two times harvest,
Evil was smashed
And the humble released
When he was living there.
My son, hark a secret:
Still his unread neglected
Scribbling is with me,
Which they will set fire if they find.
My son, will you keep this
Until it sparks another poet?
( Star Finalist, Voicesnet international poetry competition)
And the yellowish red cloud
Cover the sun below.
Like this so many
Nature’s paintings were
Divinely described by them.
When horses and warriors fell,
My son, it was them who
Tightened the bones of laymen
To fight against the darkness.
When unidentified corpses
Were scattered across the streets
And graves were made without
Scribbled stones,
My son, they lamented upon them
And scribbled in their pages.
When human hearts were darkened
With greed and pride,
My son, their fiery words
Purged their souls.
Behold, the worn out hut
Down in the valley of shrubs,
There lived the last one of that kind.
I have a hackneyed vision
Of the man with the walk of an oxen
And vision of an eagle,
Killed in front of the modern men.
There was four times rain
And two times harvest,
Evil was smashed
And the humble released
When he was living there.
My son, hark a secret:
Still his unread neglected
Scribbling is with me,
Which they will set fire if they find.
My son, will you keep this
Until it sparks another poet?
( Star Finalist, Voicesnet international poetry competition)
The Train I Travel
The train I travel is moving.
I see uncountable heads:
Black and white;
Chubby and bonny-
Smiling, sleeping, thinking-
All are human heads.
Then why there are glasses
Only in some bogies?
Why there are classes,
First, second and third?
I hear horrendous sound
Peculiar only to a train:
The sound of the clanging of iron,
The sound of machine;
Oh! Machine, which made
All the differences.
There is a stop- a station-
Again the rush, the pull, the race,
The sound of the machine
Spread through the station.
Perhaps they sing, listen,
Sleep, swallow and enjoy;
The blessed classes.
But who cares,
There are human insects
Surviving in the third class!
(Read at Kritya International Poetry Festival)
I see uncountable heads:
Black and white;
Chubby and bonny-
Smiling, sleeping, thinking-
All are human heads.
Then why there are glasses
Only in some bogies?
Why there are classes,
First, second and third?
I hear horrendous sound
Peculiar only to a train:
The sound of the clanging of iron,
The sound of machine;
Oh! Machine, which made
All the differences.
There is a stop- a station-
Again the rush, the pull, the race,
The sound of the machine
Spread through the station.
Perhaps they sing, listen,
Sleep, swallow and enjoy;
The blessed classes.
But who cares,
There are human insects
Surviving in the third class!
(Read at Kritya International Poetry Festival)
24 January, 2008
In My Country
In My Country
In my country there are
People of two categories:
Some are begotten
And the others are down-trodden.
But like the creamy layer
Between chubby buns
There is another group
Which is always forgotten.
Among the hectic morning activities
While rumbling sound of preparations
Come from every house,
They too make their presence felt
By scrapping their old coconut shells.
When the begotten diet to be fit,
And the down-trodden fast to pray,
Only this down-trodden pray to fast.
With rented clothes
And gilted ornaments
And fragmented hearts
They usually go to the
Marriage functions
Where the high class
Occupy the front seats
With much glamour and glitter,
And the low class simply pass
Enjoying the feast.
When all stand in a queue
In front of a ration shop
And come home sack full
They loiter around a supper market
And stealthily abscond
With empty bags.
In my growing country
There are still people living,
Crushed between people
Who are always forgotten.
In my country there are
People of two categories:
Some are begotten
And the others are down-trodden.
But like the creamy layer
Between chubby buns
There is another group
Which is always forgotten.
Among the hectic morning activities
While rumbling sound of preparations
Come from every house,
They too make their presence felt
By scrapping their old coconut shells.
When the begotten diet to be fit,
And the down-trodden fast to pray,
Only this down-trodden pray to fast.
With rented clothes
And gilted ornaments
And fragmented hearts
They usually go to the
Marriage functions
Where the high class
Occupy the front seats
With much glamour and glitter,
And the low class simply pass
Enjoying the feast.
When all stand in a queue
In front of a ration shop
And come home sack full
They loiter around a supper market
And stealthily abscond
With empty bags.
In my growing country
There are still people living,
Crushed between people
Who are always forgotten.
05 January, 2008
Waves won't Die
Waves won't Die
When he was a child,
He put a tiny stone
Into a silent pond,
That made ripples,
And still come in his dreams.
In the green paddy fields,
He found waves in childhood,
But in their greediness,
They fed with pesticides,
And killed the earth.
Years later, he found
Only a green less desert,
But still waves were there,
That time, only heat waves.
He watched -later in life-
A roaring ocean kisses the shore
With its everlasting waves.
Waves made further waves
Not only of water but of sound:
Sound of the roar,
Sound of the lively speech
Of the fisher folk,
Sound of the little kingfishers.
His first love
With her jasmine fragrance
Made a wave in his heart.
The first look of a beggar,
An injustice done, the taste of God
And all made in him waves.
Months and years passed,
But still in silent nights,
He is caught, moved and shaped
By all these waves.
Waves won’t die...
When he was a child,
He put a tiny stone
Into a silent pond,
That made ripples,
And still come in his dreams.
In the green paddy fields,
He found waves in childhood,
But in their greediness,
They fed with pesticides,
And killed the earth.
Years later, he found
Only a green less desert,
But still waves were there,
That time, only heat waves.
He watched -later in life-
A roaring ocean kisses the shore
With its everlasting waves.
Waves made further waves
Not only of water but of sound:
Sound of the roar,
Sound of the lively speech
Of the fisher folk,
Sound of the little kingfishers.
His first love
With her jasmine fragrance
Made a wave in his heart.
The first look of a beggar,
An injustice done, the taste of God
And all made in him waves.
Months and years passed,
But still in silent nights,
He is caught, moved and shaped
By all these waves.
Waves won’t die...
A Macro View
The Macro View
Going upward when the sun is about to set, in the Kerala green hills is always an enjoyable experience. This is a great privilege for me to enjoy this exuberant experience quite often, as I am staying in Elappara, one of the beautiful high ranges of Idukki district in Kerala. Here the roads don’t have enough width and always look very dangerous having lots of curves and very deep horrendous steeps. Very often I witness minor accidents also. But it is not accidents or the curves which attract me during my bus journey but the greenish steeps and valleys, the spreading white cool mist over them, the appearance of new tall peaks in different directions, the evanescent bright painting that no human artist can do made by the sunset in the sky, the beautiful round yellowish red appearance of the sun between two tall peaks and above all the magnificent firmament where the sky and the peaks kiss each other attract me most. Since my childhood I have been always wondering at and envious of the elegantly gliding kites because of their ability to fly over the sky to have a macro view of the world while enjoying all the elements of nature and universe. One of the reasons, why I like this green hill journey is to have a macro view like those kites over the world.
People may have different attitudes towards human life. Mainly we can divide it into two: while one set of people try to view the life from a macro view point, the other set have the micro view point over life. The macro view point is seeing the universe as a whole and trying to associate oneself with that and the living force behind that. Meanwhile the macro view point is looking from oneself the immediate surroundings and trying to reach the whole. The goal of the first one is from the universe trying to know oneself, while the goal of the second one is from oneself trying to understand the universe. In my opinion both attitudes of life are successful and correct if the goal is achieved. But I am of the first one.
Whenever I am in the peaks of mountains, I am just completely preoccupied with the superiority and elegance of the never ending skies, very huge mountains, icy clouds and the magnificent universe. For a short period I just forget about all the petty problems in the world. When I am near to the pleasant light blue skies even the enormous problems of the world like Kashmiri terrorism and American war on Iraq seem negligible.
The kite only knows the oneness of human beings and the oneness of nature and universe. A person who has the macro view point of a kite cannot know and understand the boundaries between countries, the class discrimination and the colour discrimination. To him there is no Indian, no Pakistani and American but only human being. Perhaps not even there is separation between humans, animals, nature and sky but the entire universe and the force behind that is inseparable. That is each and everything is the integral part of the one which has no beginning and no end.
If we understand this truth that we are the integral parts of the universe then we will never fight with other parts. The parts of a body cannot fight each other because if one fights it will affect all the other parts. Then man will never destroy nature for greediness. Then people will never accumulate more and more money and properties for themselves. Then they will never hate others because that means they hate themselves.
The people who have this macro view point see themselves in other people whether they are poor or rich, black or white, beautiful or ugly. They don’t know the people by their entity, colour or physical stature; they know them only as human beings: the part of the universe that means the part of the creator.
No place, no plays or clays, no moreCan separate these souls who meetFor they are one, from one, none elseAnd know each others’ pulse.
Going upward when the sun is about to set, in the Kerala green hills is always an enjoyable experience. This is a great privilege for me to enjoy this exuberant experience quite often, as I am staying in Elappara, one of the beautiful high ranges of Idukki district in Kerala. Here the roads don’t have enough width and always look very dangerous having lots of curves and very deep horrendous steeps. Very often I witness minor accidents also. But it is not accidents or the curves which attract me during my bus journey but the greenish steeps and valleys, the spreading white cool mist over them, the appearance of new tall peaks in different directions, the evanescent bright painting that no human artist can do made by the sunset in the sky, the beautiful round yellowish red appearance of the sun between two tall peaks and above all the magnificent firmament where the sky and the peaks kiss each other attract me most. Since my childhood I have been always wondering at and envious of the elegantly gliding kites because of their ability to fly over the sky to have a macro view of the world while enjoying all the elements of nature and universe. One of the reasons, why I like this green hill journey is to have a macro view like those kites over the world.
People may have different attitudes towards human life. Mainly we can divide it into two: while one set of people try to view the life from a macro view point, the other set have the micro view point over life. The macro view point is seeing the universe as a whole and trying to associate oneself with that and the living force behind that. Meanwhile the macro view point is looking from oneself the immediate surroundings and trying to reach the whole. The goal of the first one is from the universe trying to know oneself, while the goal of the second one is from oneself trying to understand the universe. In my opinion both attitudes of life are successful and correct if the goal is achieved. But I am of the first one.
Whenever I am in the peaks of mountains, I am just completely preoccupied with the superiority and elegance of the never ending skies, very huge mountains, icy clouds and the magnificent universe. For a short period I just forget about all the petty problems in the world. When I am near to the pleasant light blue skies even the enormous problems of the world like Kashmiri terrorism and American war on Iraq seem negligible.
The kite only knows the oneness of human beings and the oneness of nature and universe. A person who has the macro view point of a kite cannot know and understand the boundaries between countries, the class discrimination and the colour discrimination. To him there is no Indian, no Pakistani and American but only human being. Perhaps not even there is separation between humans, animals, nature and sky but the entire universe and the force behind that is inseparable. That is each and everything is the integral part of the one which has no beginning and no end.
If we understand this truth that we are the integral parts of the universe then we will never fight with other parts. The parts of a body cannot fight each other because if one fights it will affect all the other parts. Then man will never destroy nature for greediness. Then people will never accumulate more and more money and properties for themselves. Then they will never hate others because that means they hate themselves.
The people who have this macro view point see themselves in other people whether they are poor or rich, black or white, beautiful or ugly. They don’t know the people by their entity, colour or physical stature; they know them only as human beings: the part of the universe that means the part of the creator.
No place, no plays or clays, no moreCan separate these souls who meetFor they are one, from one, none elseAnd know each others’ pulse.
Time Won't Come Again
Time won’t come again
Is there ‘time’ in this universe? If there is time, is there beginning and end to time? So far the human knowledge hasn’t found the beginning and end of the universe. We can say that the beginning of the universe is the beginning of time and end as well. Hence the age of time is equal to the age of universe. The universe is existing and all the time changing within it. But time is going forward and it does not exist.
Everything else besides time and life in this world are cyclic. Time as life once lost means lost. In our life every second we lose is a second reduced in our length of life. Time and life in this world won’t come again. Every time when I travel through the Kerala mountains I watch and feel the beautiful high peaks touching the sky, the yellowish red sun hiding back the peaks, the clouds and mists moving over the steeps and valleys filled with greenery, the soft cool touch of the wind and the enchanting scenes of nature. and always I can get the same experience, same joy and same thoughts. But it is true yesterday is not today, today cannot be tomorrow according to time. For experiences may come again but time won’t.
Time is identified only by life. Passing of ages and eras are unidentified and meaningless without life. It can be rightly called the dark ages. From the beginning itself time and life have been inseparable. Even though every living being in this world has a short life the perpetuation of life is going on long by its generation and so we can also say that worldly life is also eternal in the sense that it is passed on from one generation to another. It is not life but meaningful life and influential incidents of life and time become history. To be in history or to print a mark in time one has to have influential incidents and achievements in life.
Jesus Christ’s life had this kind of influence on the life of people and time and resulted in the dividing of time into two as A.D. and B.C. Can you imagine a 16th century England without the elegant rule of queen Elizabeth; the renaissance in the literary field; the cute children of renaissance, Edmund Spencer and William Shakespeare and the power of reformation? It is because of these influential incidents and lives 16th century England is remembered for ever.
Now-a-days people are fighting with each other over the sharing of water from the reservoirs. That means water can be stored, reserved, chanalized and used whenever it is needed. But we cannot do time like that. The time units are just to count the passage of time and not to stop the time as segments and use it as we like.
Even though we cannot reserve time as water we can use time wisely. We can manage time in an efficient way not by stopping and changing time as our wish but by properly scheduling our tasks and doings in a better way. J. Krishnamurthy always stressed the importance of living in the present time. Jesus Christ also emphasized the need of living today. That means we should not postpone today’s task for tomorrow and at the same time we should not carry tomorrows problems to today also. Successful people are those who use their time properly, effectively and timely. For instance if a person gets up one hour early every day then he will get one more waking day in a month.
Even carl Lewis cannot ask time, “Hey, wait a minute I would catch up with you”. We have to run with time that we do knowingly or unknowingly. But to make a mark in time something else is needed individually or collectively, through science, religion, literature, philosophy, politics, and sports and so on. In short, if we use time wisely, time will make our achievements history.
Is there ‘time’ in this universe? If there is time, is there beginning and end to time? So far the human knowledge hasn’t found the beginning and end of the universe. We can say that the beginning of the universe is the beginning of time and end as well. Hence the age of time is equal to the age of universe. The universe is existing and all the time changing within it. But time is going forward and it does not exist.
Everything else besides time and life in this world are cyclic. Time as life once lost means lost. In our life every second we lose is a second reduced in our length of life. Time and life in this world won’t come again. Every time when I travel through the Kerala mountains I watch and feel the beautiful high peaks touching the sky, the yellowish red sun hiding back the peaks, the clouds and mists moving over the steeps and valleys filled with greenery, the soft cool touch of the wind and the enchanting scenes of nature. and always I can get the same experience, same joy and same thoughts. But it is true yesterday is not today, today cannot be tomorrow according to time. For experiences may come again but time won’t.
Time is identified only by life. Passing of ages and eras are unidentified and meaningless without life. It can be rightly called the dark ages. From the beginning itself time and life have been inseparable. Even though every living being in this world has a short life the perpetuation of life is going on long by its generation and so we can also say that worldly life is also eternal in the sense that it is passed on from one generation to another. It is not life but meaningful life and influential incidents of life and time become history. To be in history or to print a mark in time one has to have influential incidents and achievements in life.
Jesus Christ’s life had this kind of influence on the life of people and time and resulted in the dividing of time into two as A.D. and B.C. Can you imagine a 16th century England without the elegant rule of queen Elizabeth; the renaissance in the literary field; the cute children of renaissance, Edmund Spencer and William Shakespeare and the power of reformation? It is because of these influential incidents and lives 16th century England is remembered for ever.
Now-a-days people are fighting with each other over the sharing of water from the reservoirs. That means water can be stored, reserved, chanalized and used whenever it is needed. But we cannot do time like that. The time units are just to count the passage of time and not to stop the time as segments and use it as we like.
Even though we cannot reserve time as water we can use time wisely. We can manage time in an efficient way not by stopping and changing time as our wish but by properly scheduling our tasks and doings in a better way. J. Krishnamurthy always stressed the importance of living in the present time. Jesus Christ also emphasized the need of living today. That means we should not postpone today’s task for tomorrow and at the same time we should not carry tomorrows problems to today also. Successful people are those who use their time properly, effectively and timely. For instance if a person gets up one hour early every day then he will get one more waking day in a month.
Even carl Lewis cannot ask time, “Hey, wait a minute I would catch up with you”. We have to run with time that we do knowingly or unknowingly. But to make a mark in time something else is needed individually or collectively, through science, religion, literature, philosophy, politics, and sports and so on. In short, if we use time wisely, time will make our achievements history.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
