Smile

Smile; sometimes a mirage,

Sometimes a collage of emotions.

Improbable is its capacity

To grant face for millions of significance.

And inexplicable is its gratifying aura

When conveyed straight

To heart from heart with an essence.

Either way, a face with a smile

Cause you to come out beauteous.

Either it’s an angel or demon in you

Forcing to paint that stroke of smile on your mind,

Hesitate not, to muse on your face that stroke.

For that cause you to come out beauteous.

Hesitate not. Hesitate not.

Smile...smile...smile... :)

Be Open Minded

There are many different reasons for having an open mind. One reason is so that you’re always ready to try anything new. Also, so that you will express your ideas without holding them back. Another reason would be so that people won't just see you as any other person. They will see you as being an "open minded" person.

Always being able to try something new is important because if you always stick to the regular you do, you might get tired of it. If you don't try anything new, how will you learn? Also, if you're buying clothes you'll be able to pick something different than your normal attire rather than the same styles you always wear.

I believe that being open-minded is one of the most important things one can do in their life, yet it is very difficult to let your mind be open to anything and everything. Modern culture, ignorance, and opinions often prevent anyone from being open-minded in today’s society. I believe that being tolerant of different religions, cultures, and such is key in understanding the world. Sadly, people’s ignorance today is what is holding us back from being open-minded towards these things. The influence of the internet, TV, and other people is the main cause of this. Usually most people just go along with what people are saying or doing. People rarely think for themselves anymore.

My parents have greatly enforced the idea of being open-minded during my early childhood. They always taught me to accept other people’s ideas and way of life without criticizing them. I found that by being open-minded most of my life I can get along easier with other people and am more open towards their ideas. I have tried to follow this as best as I can but it is difficult to do as most people lead straight to a conclusion based on the main ideas and beliefs of others, not their own.

I believe that people need to start thinking by themselves and for themselves. One must be willing to accept almost everything that they see is different, except anything that is clearly outrageous and offensive. After becoming open-minded, one will be able to start seeing the good in almost everything one will come across in life. Having a closed mind and following the beliefs of mainstream culture will close any doors in the way of being able to learn more about the world. I believe that in order for the entire world to get along, countries must be unbiased and tolerant of each other. Today, countries have a hard time understanding other country’s motives, but if they understood their culture, religion, and basic beliefs that just maybe, maybe, they might get along better in some way. And some jug-heads take it too personal also. That’s so unfortunate.

These things I believe very strongly. And I hope that one day all of humanity will be able to get along and understand each other through being open-minded. I believe it is time for people to step up out of their comfort zones and learn more about various world cultures in hope that one day we will all be able to appreciate one another.Those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything. We are not the perfect of God’s creations. We are ignorant about an unimaginable measure of things about vision, culture, tradition etc. At times even a 5 year old kid can be your teacher. Respect the source that throws light on something you never even thought would be there in existence rather than debating on the absence of what you are ignorant of doesn’t exist.

Gather knowledge. Embrace wisdom. Live free. Live light.

Be open minded...

“Live your Life”

‘Act of Valor’. The news that the Cinematographer Shane Hurlbut used Canon EOS 5D Mark II cameras to shoot the movie was what apparently pulled my attention to that movie. Throughout the movie there was a letter narrated which later I reckoned to be a poem “Live your Life” by Tecumseh. I felt it really touching and inspiring as well. 

Here it is….

“So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart. Trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their view, and demand that they respect yours. Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people. Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide.

Always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, even a stranger, when in a lonely place. Show respect to all people and grovel to none.

When you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies only in yourself. Abuse no one and nothing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools and robs the spirit of its vision.

When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.”

~ Chief Tecumseh  

The Moment.

One evening I was sitting in the balcony of our house (which my colleagues and I took for rent near our office) guzzling a not-so-glorious cup of black tea wondering what on earth to write about; scrolling through the photos in my laptop with my mind waiting for some inspiration to give a spark... I was even getting the inkling of a great topic discussing the difference between "patience" and "messing about wasting time".

Then, as my fingers roaming aimlessly caressing the key on my laptop keyboard what to spin out of those alphabets, I happened to look up from my paper and there it was smack in front of me …..a young woman of about 30-ish going past me in her car, slowing down to go over the speed bump directly in front of me. I was sitting on a terrace so had a view straight into her car. But what about this very typical scene on any road was any different that it stopped my heart for a second? Well, she was laughing so loud and so gleefully and so juicily that I was compelled to laugh too . . . good job my mouth wasn't full of black tea at that exact moment as I am prone to shrieking with laughter always with my mouth full. It took me less than half a second to realize that she was actually looking at her baby strapped in the front seat (picture the baby's face facing toward the rear of the passenger chair with its back to front windscreen, in full view of the mom).

THE MOMENT was there . . . the simplicity, connection and energy contained in her laugh. These two souls were so in the moment that nothing else mattered. Deeply joyous and whole-heartedly BEING with themselves and each other. I could feel the positive energy bouncing off the car as they bounced over the bump. It touched me in that moment. So much so that I needed to write about it as my cells responded to being witness. That deep, unmistakable laughter was so pure when it came from the bottom of her tummy and curled my mouth upwards so that I was laughing too.

A beautiful life is made up of these simple, moment by moment, moments. 

Revenge

“Last night I had a revelation

Somehow I have to make you pay

It's all about manipulation

And what it takes to get my way

I don't believe in soft solutions

No one makes a fool of me

Without receiving retribution

No one hurts me and goes free

I'll play on your fears, I'll leave you in tears

You'll never be the same, my friend

You're walking a line, it's a matter of time

You'll never rest easy again

I've got the power to bring you down

I've heard it said, to err is human

It's forgiveness that's divine

I thought about forgiving you, but

I want revenge, I want what's mine

I think it's time to settle scores now

It's time to set the record straight

You'll know it's coming, you won't know how

Or when, you'll have to watch and wait

I'll play on your fears, I'll leave you in tears

You'll never be the same, my friend

You're walking a line, it's a matter of time

You'll never rest easy again

I've got the power to bring you down

You know, it feels intoxicating

To be intimidating

It's invigorating

To see you shaking

I've got the power to bring you down

You know something, you see it coming,

You know I will stop at nothing.”

**********

At times… more frequent these days, my view of friendship is taking a different angle. Friends are good. They are like angels. But angels give fire less hot than that your enemies give. Enemies are not always the “eye-for-an-eye” type. Friends are angels in a good life. But enemies motivate to attain that good life.

Living a good life and having a smile one the face is the best and the most diplomatic of all forms of revenge I believe in for those who meet the standard to be your opponent. And IGNORE those who fail to rise up to you for a duel. Never waste time on them. Because time is what life is made up of.

Heaven is on earth when you melt the rendering of your revenge to a beautiful way of living. No bullshit!! No bloodshed!! Simple and easy living.

The Script

Reading is always a killer effort for me. The only thing which I would enjoy reading was the sports column of The Hindu newspaper that contains the India’s victory in Cricket. I love stories like anyone else. But more that reading it to know it I would prefer watching it. I would enjoy it better when that story is rendered on a screen or on a stage.

More than the story, what I felt that makes it more presentable depends too much on the way it is told. And that is what I can call a gift. Lucky are those guys whose mind is set out free to gallop on the ocean of grass stretching from horizon to horizon, farther that they can reach and above them the beautiful sky, larger than they imagine. Where there are no borders or boundaries for imagination. The angle they choose to view and the words they utter to describe something which we might haven’t even seen.

Excavating the art in what they see not as a source of living rather being swallowed by that flame of creation for the pure but eternal joy. A story telling is not just that art of imagination. It is definitely a collection of similar minds. A good pool of people who are granted with “multiple layers of thoughts”…that’s how I would like to describe a group of that kind.

So when these people join hands there art is rendered. A cinema comes to life or sometime a drama comes down from the heaven of imagination onto a stage. But still, something that wonders me is that why are movie scripts not considered as a form of literature. That’s something unfair. Spielberg’s, Padmarajan’s, Bharathan’s, Ranjith’s, Ram Gopal Varma’s scripts and screenplay, are not at all connected to literature?

But I strongly believe movie scripts are also to be a vital part of the literature world. There was one habit that recently developed in me since I watched the movie Inception. I had this movie in my personal collection long before I was in a mood to watch it. But an ambience was something that was happened instantaneously when I got to read the entire script of movie first. Well, a new habit. Reading the entire script first and then watch the movie if and only if that script succeeds to convince you. Strange!!! Isn’t it?? Because now a days even the actors might not be reading the script. But it’s still applied with conditions. You can’t get all the scripts of the movies you intend to watch. So if the script is available then that comes in the first place.

It surely is enjoyable. I think one should try it out that way to get the clear plot of how all a story have travelled from an idea and then adding characters, conversations, lights, location, music and all…its sheer brilliance!!! Nothing else.

A script was always been a dream for me. Not to film it, but simply for a private satisfaction. But no idea if that wish will blossom some day or not. Nevertheless, I got a new habit... Reading… I’m happy with that.

Think!!!

Two points that I got stuck upon whilst a general reading on the facts about the human brain:

     - The slowest speed information travels in the brain is 260 mph, faster than the fastest-recorded supercar’s top speed of 253 mph

         - An estimated 70,000 thoughts are produced by the brain on an average day.

YES!! We have a terrifically designed organ that can perform unbelievable pace and accuracy when trained and determined. As far as my knowledge on knowledge, there are no such barriers or differentiation as like the brilliant and the dumb-head as most or some of us were identified back in school days.

I was always attracted to the spiritual discourses of the Sanyasin’s of the Chinmaya and the Ramakrishna Missions during my school days and even now. Those were the days when an idea of writing such an article began to hatch within me. All may not accept, but this is just an act of expression of what I felt about the real us.

In several discourses on the Indian culture and tradition I have heard that the various Upanishads and Vedas scripted by the Sages after a long meditation that may last for a week or a month or even more. This is the proof that I would put forward that we all are “equally” pre-programmed robots. I “believe” that all the humans born on this planet with a normally working brain can perform, create or think of anything that the guy next to you can perform.

“Genius” is not a class. It is all of us. Knowledge is the result of a chain reaction of a deep thought. Let me explain.

You may notice a tiny ant moving across your laptop or your desktop screen. You can have normally two kinds of reactions seeing this. As mostly you may blow it away or press it to the screen with one of your fingers and rub it to the edge of the monitor and continue your job. But for a moment if you watch that tiny little insect you may come to realize that the fraction of life or soul can be the same that tiny thing moving across you screen and yourself and even in a mighty elephant. This route of thought is also capable enough to reach you to the destination were you can transform your so far knowledge of death from a different angle. Imagine where that ant moving on your screen took you to.

It may not happen everywhere. It begins at that gifted moment where you stop to think and use your brain. Use your brain!!! I’ve heard that a countless number of times during the school days. I yet don’t understand the logic behind mugging up what the poet thought in a particular situation. These are situations that kill the creativity within a pupil. Who cares if what the poet thought or what kind of a turn in life that made him to jot that poem. All are busy chasing the poet’s thought. There are seldom teachers who cared to explain their students how beautifully the words like pearl are laced to the thoughts of that poet and there by inspire at least one in that classroom to create something even better than what he/she taught them. All the teacher needs to perform is just to ignite that thought which can happen in a fraction of a second.

A spark of a thought wouldn’t take ages to burn up and show light to the world. That spark is there within us and the cause is there around us. As I said we are all pre-programmed robots. A weird route of my thought makes me believe that a taste of a person in some subject, it can be art or science or anything, which is left unexpressed throughout his life shall be inherited to the life they give birth to.  That could be why some of them claim proudly that “it’s there in my blood...!”

There are brilliant untrained singers around us who can perform even better than the professionals. Music and the notes could be there in their blood. But from birth we travel on a road paved by the ideas of someone who lived and died centuries before our great grandfathers. No one stops to think. Now the most common thought process happening is what status I should put on my facebook wall to attract more like and comments. That too is readily available now on sites dedicated for the status and wall posts alone.

There are several places on earth where the God chose his children to take birth. But we come from a country where God himself chose to take birth...that too not just once. There are records that prove that even Jesus Christ had spent almost a decade in our country after which he preached his important teachings. We come from a land where the knowledge enlightened itself through simple process of thoughts. Think!!!

The Climb

This is a kind of revelation that found a gradual rise right from the day I joined my job which is being revealed here. It’s about the steady income group; the so called “Professionals” of the society.

This ambience graphs a prancing horse like youth painting celebration all over your life. But there is a peak for every hill. One may have to climb it down once he experiences the peak. Ironically, peak is an easy-boring space. What thrills the real you is the ‘climb’. And unfortunately there isn’t a never ending climb. And then, on the way back after conquering the various positions, the social identity and all; then it’s the time to start counting the loses, relations, home etc that that ‘climb’ took away from you. 

In other words it’s often felt that the ‘climb’ of creates a believable fake reality where the real human being is transformed which he realizes only when he’s done with the ‘climb’.

But in a world like today one can’t always follow his heart because your heart seldom feeds you. Like what Bill Gates told “Money is not everything in life. But one should be rich enough before uttering such nonsense.”

And the dilemma prevails. To continue the ‘Climb’ or to walk. Like a cult. I too have to do the righteous ritual to survive in this planet. But one thing that I’m sure of is that I won’t let me count loses on the way down. 

Writer’s block

Writer’s block. I don’t very well think this is that what I’m going through. That is since I don’t want myself to be labeled as affected by the “writer’s-block” for I am aware that I’m not as genuine as a writer. ‘Aphorisms’ is never considered to be by work of literature or something similar. This is my expressions that one reads in this space. And Aphorisms made me expressive because writing was always something very close to my soul.

But now there are thoughts; there are words and there is a language...and all three of them like pearls in a plastic case are making that tickling noise in me. And I, very badly want a thread that can pass through these pearls to make it a wonderful ornament in Aphorisms. This is a brilliant contradictory situation out here for me. Happiness is piling up around me and so is the uncertainty flooding all over.

As I said this time too, I want to express it all. But where to start from is something totally confusing. Mentations, they are drifting. This is no writer’s block then. It’s a situation where I’m overwhelmed by the happenings in the environment containing me. I’m having bits and parts of many things to share.

On one side there is an escalating joy of a would-be uncle, and on the other a numbness of mind for being alone in this South East Asian piece of land and so on it goes.  

Is this avalanching of thoughts…is this grace?? Or is it going to leave that acme just blank. A blank peak is again having an unnoticed side. Meditation. Because when the thought-less empty acme is your mind, then is a state of complete meditation. I would really love the either sides of that state. 

I

I...I am the obstinate. I am the modest. I am the diabolic and I am the saint... I..I..I..!!!

“I” the most clichéd subject in the whole universe. It’s a something more than a word which is used to justify, confess, fight, debate and without any respect to the fellow beings everywhere and every time.

“I” that’s what one can find the most and hence the so called clichéd in this blog too. Every time its moves on like “I thought”, “I did”…and so on and on and on.

As per the conclusions that my thoughts guide me to, there sprouts a feel that this kind of a steep increase in the “I” factor have a straight relation to the increase or the influence of professionalism in the thought cells of the Homo sapiens. This is it, when told in the nuances of the B-language. People start thinking of the results before lending a hand to help or a shoulder to support, before they get in contact with a person etc…everything and everywhere because of this I.

Every relation now carries a higher percentage of the Business factor within. Some are forced to have it or else they will be betrayed by anyone around them…nothing other than a cornered cat’s spot. Anyone can play the role of Mr. Iscariot. Is it better to change your mind than to be a fool..?? I don’t actually know.

But, at the end of the day, if the “I” needs to be completely complete in the soul, there is something other than the professionalism and the business factor…something stronger…the Principles. I truly believe in those words that I recently read somewhere. “In matters of style, swim with the current;

in matters of principle, stand like a rock.”

That is the revelation… let me call this I, the blue placid sky with the clouds of all bad & good, negatives & positives, downs & ups, hatred & love, revenge & forgives, atheist & pious…along with other million clouds & let me call that sky “The Human”, with the purities & impurities of all affections & emotions..I like us to be ourselves in this very way...just normal…just humane…

The NEWS.

North-East-West-South…The NEWS – As in Wikipedia, News is the communication of selected information on current events which is presented by print, broadcast, Internet, or word of mouth to a third party or mass audience.

Earlier it was like bringing the information of what all was happening around the globe to your living room on just the press of your TV remote. Now it’s even simpler and easily accessible. Unlike the real purposes meant to serve, the so called “NEWS” is now being the leading entertainment subject overwhelming the Cinema, Music, Sports and all other matters meant for entertainment.

Personally and frankly speaking, NEWS is one such thing that I hate the most. My colleague, who is also my roommate often speak to me in exclamation that he have never seen such a person (me) who takes less than two minutes to read the newspaper.

Though I explain my theory, he was never ever convinced. I used to argue that is it not with mind state of gathering some information they read the newspaper rather it’s like kind of reading a suspense thriller novel. Yes, it is. One will realize it when he spends a minute to just stop and think. The hot news’ are just more similar and also of less quality in subject, language and culture when compared to the stories that run through the pages of a book or a reel in the theatre.

People started accepting that they are being cheated, the way they are being cheated and also reading and enjoying that vey same way they are being cheated. The newspapers and the channels rip open all the stories, the police findings and also the various impact that follows. It’s all good, fine and healthy. But as time rolls, there emerges some strange elements like TRP, market etc...etc.

It could be this pressure, which the ‘business man’ who owns the channel or the newspaper implies on the reporters that make way for this kind of an output. For instance, one can get to understand it from a very simple example.

Cricket is a game which is almost a religion in our India. And if match is going to be played 2-3 days before the game itself, the analysis of the various experts, pitch report, players’ interview, press conference and all such stuff starts piling up in the newspapers and the channels. And if any of the players are not included, the reason behind needs to be explained; and after the match is played, then comes the match fixing scandals, misbehavior of the players, umpire’s biased decisions and all such things gains space in the breaking news scroll. One who misses to watch the match finds it really hard to plot the scorecard to know what and how the match was played from the sports area in the newspapers.

I mean, no one is even bothered about the match. Right from the beginning itself the reporters, reports, readers and viewers get into the forecast and the analysis. Let me purposefully skip a major plot, the politics and the politicians, which and who gives birth to news reports at least in every 10 seconds. We live in a sadist civilization. Here, people read the news of a gang raped girl with the ease of reading a comic book. No one cares.

I don’t have any idea of how many people can agree with me when I write this. At one or the other point of time I’m sure that all of us might have had a wave of this thought. Don’t take the news to your brains and capture your senses. It will be just justice if the news’ are given the importance they deserve.

One major benefit that I have felt that the modern day journalism has gifted the public with is a strong rock-solid heart making the public capable enough to flick a smile on his face after reading or hearing the news of any great tragedy that happened around him… unless and until it is about him…. ….

Vacuous…!!!

Blankness…it is sometimes a boon, sometimes curse, sometimes a cure and sometimes a disturbance. Yes, this blankness is a disturbance for me having nothing to scribble on Aphorisms.

A spark was enough to blow that shield away and make my dear river to flow again. Of course it’s not something called a Writer’s Block or anything like that. Writers Block happens for those frequent and veteran writers. And I’m glad to feel that I’m clever enough to have a revelation that it’s not something that affects my Aphorisms. In one sense, to be originally me, it was a forceful blankness many at times. And laziness was being that force.

But laziness is too tender to be a force. It is not strong enough to hold that spark from igniting the words to spread on this as white, as a soft and cute white cloud, word document. This used to be my only resort to shoot down the monster loneliness when I’m away from my dearest Amma and my Thrissur. As Thrissur always keeps me busy with one thing or the other, the so called “loneliness” is nothing more than a word of the English language, while I’m there.

Writing is easy when you have something in mind. But, it’s a pathetic scene when there is nothing in mind. Now, this is the next twist. Our mind sometimes behaves like a baby monkey, by switching focuses between the subjects in eyes and mind. And then from the branches of the subject to the rewind of the incidences from the past of something about the future planning and so on it goes. This becomes a naughty thing that disturbs you at times. It becomes naughty as it brings some of those beautiful moments from you past like a warm evening breeze into your mind with a smile on your face. It can be disturbing because if you feel like scribbling down something, and if this little monkey starts behaving in such a way, it is enough to set down the day for me.

To tame this monkey mind was always a tough task for me. And I believe it will be the same with the others too. But still taming has two aspects. Either to tame it the way you want it to stay or else, tame it the way it goes. And it is the later strategy that comes in to reality most of the time.

Perhaps most of our spiritual leaders survive in today’s world claiming that they have various techniques to tame our monkey minds. Hearing which the parents start pushing their school going children to attend the various courses. The flexible monkey minds of the parents as a means to canvas their ideology and various techniques of taming. Though an inflamable area, can't help saying that there are also beneficiaries of others monkey minds.

But I love this monkey a lot. I’m not stretching out to assume that I own a good mind. Being a part of the human race I’m also proud to say that I too own bad monkey at heart like the others…or rather it can be the worst of all monkeys that my fellow beings own.

But I hate the space of silence that develops in me when this monkey is asleep. That vacuous is a curse...

Amorphous

Ordinary day, ordinary year. Period.


What’s the difference,…people. Stones, object this and object that. And then there are people. People lie around, talk, haggle, mumble, among other things. Very little point in trying to understand the ‘why’ part of it. They exist with absolutely nothing specific. Some say survival. Reminds me of Keynes who says, “In the long run we are all dead”. People seem to have a spontaneous character, history, some element of an explanation attached to their individual existence.

For the initiated, this character progressively makes itself evident in every element tangible to the senses.

The path from conscious action to the unconscious understanding.

Discarding primitive intelligence by the wayside.
Nice!

Am I a reminiscent of Nietzsche?

Have You..??

I do not know how to put it in words…Let me try...

There are these moments when I feel so far away from the people around me…It is not a matter of distance,…it is a matter of familiarity and in this space I feel so close to somebody.

My point of discussion is that I do not know who this is,…I do not know if it is one of my friends who are so far away from me. I do not know if it is somebody I have lost touch with. I do not know if it is somebody I am yet to meet.

I see the frost on my car windshield which is fleeting as the moment and I am reminded of this connection. I try hard to concentrate and find out some more…but I have never succeeded.

I do not know if this makes sense…it is almost like a wrong number…you never know who you are talking to and the chance of talking to the same person is like close to zero. There is no purpose in the conversation and the mind is so disturbed that we hardly speak any sense and end up apologising for the mistake and cut the call as soon as possible. The irony is that it is nobody’s mistake. That seals it.

But the feeling lingers and the aromas are deep in my mind.

The context when they repeat are never predictable. It might be a traffic intersection…it might be gentle breeze on the sea front…I have very little clue about the stimulus…but one thing which is common is the strong sense of disconnect that I feel when I chew on these feelings…

Even the sense of disconnect becomes ironical in that sometimes I realise that there was no coherence in my role as compared to the situation to start with. There was nothing to start with…and the shadow-boxer plays as a sort of wake-up call…

Sounds messy like noodles…just munch on it and wash it down with a cup of milk…

Refreshing…

A different view for the Memorial Day.

Let me establish this post with a SALUTE to those Heroes who have laid their life’s for their motherland.

Today is the 26^th of November, 2010. It was exactly two years ago Mumbai was struck by the terrorist attack. And the entire subcontinent today mourns the death of the Police officers and the NSG commandos. 

Right from childhood days of this kind used to inspire me a lot. Also there where war-movies of various languages used to keep my mind a lot inclined towards the souls who left earth for their motherland. But today, i was stuck upon by some quotes of Eishower. I must say that this threw a light to a different dimension of thought we can make to the angle of those war heroes.

Memorial Day honors the tragedy of those who died for their country. All over the nation, ceremonies take place at cemeteries of the fallen. Volunteers place flags on graves; taps is played; flags are furled; and stern-faced members of veterans' organizations attend in solemn rows in their caps and insignia.

It's not a time for cynicism. And yet, that's just what I feel. As a nation, our feelings are manipulated on what should be a day of sorrow and regret.

Let me be clear--we should justly honor the sacrifice of those who died in war. But the way we do it glorifies war to yet another generation. It deludes our youth into believing it's their duty to enlist in the next crusade to benefit politicians and the military-industrial complex that Eisenhower warned us about. The martial music and stirring speeches perpetuate the lie that the fallen "died for our freedom." They did not.

Did our soldiers die heroically? Often they did. But for the most part, they died uselessly.

War is a failure of diplomacy. Instead of flags and martial music, we should offer apologies to the dead for yet again failing to avert the catastrophe of war. Our vow to the dead should be to redouble our efforts to find peaceful ways of settling disputes. On this day we should mourn not just those who perished in war, but our repeated failure to move beyond the barbaric practice of officially killing strangers just because someone in power who stands to gain from war convinced us that it's in our best interest to do so.

The message of Memorial Day should be "Never again! We will not send yet another generation of youth to the killing fields."

***

Eisenhower on war:

"When people speak to you about a preventive war, you tell them to go and fight it. After my experience, I have come to hate war." (Press conference: 1953)

"I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its stupidity. War settles nothing." (Speech: Ottawa, Canada, January 10, 1946)

Dwight D. Eisenhower

34th President of the United States

(1953-1961)

Once again my prayer for all those who we lost and all those who lost. A salute to a nation that refuses to stay down when knocked down.....

Angels sans wings.

I have a strong belief about the existence of angels. Don’t know how many among us can join me when I say this. Let it be anything, their presence was felt in various episodes of life. They don’t have wings. They don’t fly. They are just someone who may sometimes match with my frequencies. And I call them my FRIENDS.

In my case I’m lucky enough to get a mass collection of angels of different age, colors, and both genders. When some among them become too closer, they take the form of any format of a blood relation with respect to their age, the warmth of their affection and the monsoon of care they shower on me. The constant interactions in those different circles of angels have helped a lot to be least good among the worst human beings on earth. I love me more while with them.

Mr. Good God has always kept sending these blossoms to me at different stages until today. And I think the so-called “Formality” fails to survive in this relation. This may be because there is no middle-man between me and the sender.

As of me, I never left out contact with any person who has befriended me. At least once in a blue moon I get in touch with them. I don’t know how much they rate me as a friend. For, time always used to make it difficult for me to let them know how much I loved them. Among them there are a very little who knew why and what was between me and them.

But by God’s grace, I get ample number of friends wherever I go. Even these on-site visits added many to my friends list in facebook. Many of them don’t know English. My sincere thanks to Google Translate which helps us to do the online chats. It is helpful. Technology can brighten the horizon, widen the frontiers, kill the distance and deepen the ocean of friendship. It’s true. 

Never stay like an anchored ship in the ocean of life, when the tides of friendship hit you from all sides. Flow along with it. All you have to do is to decide the right combination of wind, wave and direction and then sail along. A good sailor is the one who identifies the right combination of wind, wave and direction until the end of his voyage. A good sailor is someone who talks to the wind, feel the warmth of the tides and embrace the directions. He won’t feel he’s all alone in the lonely ship sailing in a plain ocean..

Yes..!! Friends…, they are Angels sans wings….

Writing

Writing can never be told as a passion or a habit for me. I can only call it a byproduct of my relationship with solitude. Or the relation thus formed when solitude embraces me with all his love can also be called “writing”. I have always enjoyed that. Sometimes I enjoy that with a loud laugh, sometimes with a deep sigh, sometimes with a few drops of tears, or sometimes with wonder. Whatever it may be, making a clean and white MS Word new document dirty with my words and thoughts gives me great pleasure.

More than all that I believe writing as my time machine, it takes me to the precise time and place I belong. And for that to happen I should be accompanied with my friend Mr. Solitude. He narrates me the entire script and I, like an obedient little child, captures those echoes of silence. I simply love it. Thanks a lot to Indonesia for that. Though not up to my Thrissur, she is also beautiful. And “APHORISMS” is a gift. Don’t know if it’s my gift to this land or her gift to me.

And to the subject or the writes I have posted is usually on the incidences that touched me the most or it may be of some souls who have their influence on me. But “Thrissur” and “death” are those two which can be found in watermarks in most of my posts. Some of them who have gone through my posts have criticized me by questioning what is there so much to write about death…don’t make posts so negative and so on. But, when I’m given a chance to speak, write or debate on this Mystery-Man...Death… just a post will never ever is enough to shrink the whole phenomenon into just a few lines or pages.

I recollect what Uncle Zia, my father’s friend and colleague, once wrote to me in reply to my mail in which I told him that I have somehow got struck with a new hobby. He said “This is something I tell everyone. You should have hobbies, at least one. It keeps you going all the time. When you are sad, tensed, busy or even happy. I found your writing interesting and you have future in that. Avoid using words which the average reader finds difficult...” Until he said that, I was totally ignorant of the presence of several moods under the nuances of which each scribbles are made on this sunless sky. But, unfortunately I don’t have habit of reading books.

Mein Kampf of Adolf Hitler and Mario Puzo’s “The Godfather” are the only two books that have my finger prints on all its pages. Adolf Hitler has always been a hero for me. Apart from what was taught in our 9th standard History chapters, I had a different angle to view that personality. His oratory skills and the way he came to power used to motivate me. There is a heavy lesson of determination and will strength that can be sketched out from his life and death. Though for history he was an unpopular chapter, for me he was the most popular leader. My friends often used to say I’m crazy for saying all these. But…what should I say..?? I have no materials to make them think as I do…for I know; I’m not as influential as Hitler.

Even for The Godfather it was somewhat a similar approach for me. The protagonist character of Don Vito Coreleon which was done by Marlon Brando and Al Pacino’s as Michael Coreleon also became one of my favorites when the lines in the book were made into dialogues, scenes and fights on the silver screen.

So that was all what my habit of reading is. But for writing, I have never felt that reading habit act as a backbone. Of course yes, reading is important for having a better way of presentation. Anyone can write anything. All they need for that is a thought to express what they feel. That thought can be their principles or it could be a different essence that they might discover in the world around them. And in all those what makes a piece of writing as beautiful as a level of tulip flowers on the snow covered mountains fed by the clouds is the way he describes his findings or his feelings. Malayalam film directors and script writers Padmarajan and Renjith’s and writer M.T.Vasudevan Nair’s scripts are those which I can use to exemplify what I said. Their works are like a river beautifully signed by their thoughts and imagination. Each work is born from a different gene.

“Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia”. Those were not my words… but several times...No, I have felt it each and every time I go through my own words in this Aphorisms. I don’t know how long it may go or when does APHORISMS stop. It may impede when I reach back to my own gorgeous mother land, where I meet my comrade Mr. Solitude only rarely. But there I also demand that acquaintance rarely. I love to be accompanied by Mr. Solitude only when I’m away from them.

“The pages are still blank,

But there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there,

Written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible.

I love writing.

I love the swirl and swing of words

As they tangle with human emotions.

Words - so innocent and powerless as they are,

As standing in a dictionary, how potent for good, evil, madness and foolishness

They become in the hands of someone like me.

Writing…Writing…Writing…!!!”

It's just a thought.

Unaccompanied is everyone in this earthly concern.

To get someone’s adore is an enormous dispensation an immense admiration.

One must always keep making an endeavor

To be deserving of such admiration –

I would want that let the Almighty be disappointed

With me but not the ones that loves me.

I have decimated myself into almost a half and a third

In my craving to realize the anticipation of those that give me warmth and care.

I have always made such endeavor, that those that need me or desire me,

I should for them, be easily accessible.

But consider them scant whom I desire and to continuously keep making,

Effort to get them, to acquire them to win them over.

To acquire, to get close to the Almighty, requires great pious effort,

But to get to and acquire an individual, a human, requires no less a pious effort.

Those that have become mine, I still consider them as those

I have yet to acquire or come close to and am in continuous endeavor to get them

- The effort to get what I have got –

Yes, this is what love is!

Death – A Revelation so beautiful…

Teacher’s death… I think that was what made the face of Death look more beautiful for me. Even many movies, talks and articles have played some role in making Death as one of my most fascinating subjects. I don’t know why people are so afraid. Why say people..?? Even I was just the same. Even I had a very dull color for Death in my mind. These false thoughts, is like a river that started flowing form time unidentified through the generations born and dead. And it’s still flowing. It’s now more contaminated. It is gaining strength by each passing generation.

It is true that Death brings loses to those left over by the dead. It happens at any stage of life. For some it may happen when life has just begun blossoming. He may not visit someone who is waiting for him. Hence, some so called philosophers defines him as a “Clown without the sense of scene”.

But, I don’t exactly know how and when. It can be my nuttiness to think and speak so. The mass may not accept it. I know. But, Death is also an Angel sent from a place unknown, separating us from our physical form of existence. Why do we need to be afraid of it? Actually he is the real hero. He is the one who gives us a realization that there is still something on the face of Mother Earth that is unstoppable by the Homo sapiens.

It is just a divergence. May be, who knows..?? If it’s our birth into a better world. Or can we actually consider this as the world of only those who are alive? How mighty could be their strength when compared to those of the living ones?

Man has everything. He has conquered everything above and below the sun. He has cracked unanswered questions of murders happened 3000 years ago. He started to remodel the face of mother earth. But the masterpiece of the Last Who... remains a monopoly - Death.

There is no discovery that can stop him. A brilliant masterpiece indeed. I don’t know if anyone can agree with me. I also won’t demand that. Most of us imagine him as something caused due to evil doing on earth. Something that comes in the night’s darkness to steal life. I exactly don’t know when I started. But, I liked to give Him different attire. Just think like how I’m going to say. I’m sure you will also be fearless. No one has seen him, no one has touched him, you can’t predict his arrival but everyone knows him. Perhaps pretty well. Like a real hero. The final unexpected guest of our life. Can come in any form. I feel him as a hero. The final form a hero.

It is a great phenomenon. You can’t call it annihilation. It is just a separation. I have heard many atheists orating. There is nothing called soul, it’s just a superstitious idiocy and so on. But, let me ask. Is there any markable difference between one who is dead man and one who is alive? An energy is there, which when lost we call him dead. For instance, this world calls me Varun only until I have the ability to breathe. When that energy is taken out of my body, it’s just a mass of flesh, blood and bones. Then the name becomes Dead Body. They ask, is the body cremated? No one will ask is Varun cremated. We all have this awareness in an unknown corner of our subconscious state of mind. You can’t call it a thing or substance because it’s a form of energy. For those energy to prevail on earth it is given a body and a name...like all the other forms of energy is given a name, the energy within us...no, the real we, are called SOUL.

Souls Exists?

We all fear that which we cannot understand. The tales of spirits have flowing down from generation to generation, as haunting and unknown creatures lurking in the dark. Today we like to think we are more intelligent than that, and to believe in spirits is nonsense and crazy talk! Do spirits exist? Is there any proof? There is another question, is there any proof that spirits DO NOT exist?

If we want to discuss this on a scientific and rational basis then we should think about what Einstein said when he spoke of human beings and the process of life and Death.

Einstein observed that human beings are made up of energy, and this energy is constantly moving. That which we may think of as solid matter is, in reality not solid at all! Between every molecule is energy, moving, even if we cannot see it. Everything is moving at speeds accelerated beyond what the eyes can see, energy is constant.

Now if we all comprehend that, then we must agree that since energy does not stop, than even after the Death of the body, that same energy is still in existence. It does not need any proof as it is self-evident. Through a process of Self-enquiry one comes to understand its nature. This process is one of negating all objective concepts and to continually ask oneself "who am I?" Am I the body? The senses? The thoughts? Etc, once all objectivity has ceased what remains is pure subjective Self — that is Soul.

What some may call a spirit others may call energy force, and so, it is all the words you use. No one stops to think. See how beautiful the concept is.

There is nothing to fear in it. Only the dead body can pass negative energy. When the soul was there in that body it could have been your favorite person. When it’s gone you fear the body. Which clearly states that what was within was the positive form. It is a proved science. But nobody wants to believe it.

After all this writing I can hear the ‘energy’ in me making a petite odd prayer... “Oh God!! ...” No, I'm not saying it. Let there be something on tenterhooks. In a Shyamaprasad style of storytelling, I'm leaving it to you...