Tuesday 30 August 2011

A Word against War

You do not need big guns to kill flesh and blood,

You need them only to kill dreams.


I stumbled upon an article about the brutalities in Libya yesterday. As for what I felt, I don’t really have words for that. I do not know who is in the right or who is in the wrong. Perhaps both. Perhaps none. The world where good and bad had definite demarcations has long been lost. What I do however understand, is that it simply isn’t fair. 

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-14705519

photo courtesy:
http://erin-doesnt-know.tumblr.com/post/3357951126/skysignal-photograph-by-alan-sailer-an

Monday 15 August 2011

What do you see


What do you see when you see a person?

Do you see the lined face? Or how the eyes crinkle with a smile?

Do you see beautiful eyes? Or the tears let fall at night?

Do you see the smile? Or how it brightens others’ lives?

Do you see the upheld head? Or the battles fought to keep it that way?

Do you see the faded jeans? Or the memories of a romance long over?

Do you see the awkward shoulders? Or the workload of ten people?

Do you see chapped hands? Or how quickly they are extended to others?

Do you see the upraised fist? Or the feisty spirit?

Do you see the ready laughter? Or the warmth that comes of it?

Do you see that the nice shoes? Or the steps taken willingly for others?

Do you see the composed air? Or the personal demons defeated?

Do you see the rolling gait? Or the ease with which it adjusts to yours?

Do you see the folded hands? Or the prayers whispered in solitude?


What do you see when you see a person?
Do you see a person? Or do you see their stories?



feel free to leave a comment, what do you see?
photo courtesy:
http://wootpix.blogspot.com/2011/01/eye-photo-manipulation.html


Wednesday 10 August 2011

IF

Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you 
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; 
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, 
But make allowance for their doubting too; 
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, 
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, 
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating, 
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;



If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; 
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; 
If you can meet with triumph and disaster 
And treat those two imposters just the same; 
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken 
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, 
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken, 
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;



If you can make one heap of all your winnings 
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, 
And lose, and start again at your beginnings 
And never breath a word about your loss; 
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew 
To serve your turn long after they are gone, 
And so hold on when there is nothing in you 
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";



If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, 
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch; 
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; 
If all men count with you, but none too much; 
If you can fill the unforgiving minute 
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run - 
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, 
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!
 

A personal favourite. For the days when things just go wrong. When all I want is to break down and let go, and I can't because to give up was never an option. 

Friday 5 August 2011

Purple Clouds


I look out of my window and see the dawn breaking behind the purple clouds over the distant hills and I realize that this pen of mine will not run for ever. There is so much I have yet to say, so much I have yet to put to words, and so little time.

A lifetime seems too small to write and say all that I need to. There are questions I have to ask, answers that I need to give, stories that I need to share.

There are a hundred little things that I want to show you. Dragonflies dancing in the rain, the rainbow across the valley, seagulls  flying across the early evening moon. And the purple clouds over the distant hills.

There is so much I want to write about. Love, friendship, good times, smiles. You.

There are things I hope to share with you. John Denver songs, heartbreaks, coffee on a rainy afternoon, laughter. And the purple clouds over the hills.

There is so much I want to tell you. The secrets of this world, and of the worlds beyond that.  That a wise man summed up life in three words, “It goes on”.
That the world works in ways you and I know nothing of. That it is better that way.
That some people come into your lives, and you are never, never the same again. That everybody has a story, if only we are willing to listen.
That the world is not always kind to dreamers. That all dogs do go to heaven.
That you can die a thousand times over, but you live only once.

There are so many answers I need to find. Why do bad things happen to good people?  Why are somethings best left unsaid? Why does the world follow straight lines and twisted logic? Why is it, that sometimes, you can give all and more, and still lose?

There is so much I want to do with you. Jump puddles, pillow fight, taste the rain. Stargaze, cry, ride into the sunset.

There is so much I want to leave in your care, when I am not there tomorrow.
The laughter of children. The faith in people, no matter what. The love for freedom.
The strength to do good. The first spring leaves.
The belief that all of us, no matter how small, can make the world a better place. The power to say truthfully, “I’m happy”.
The world, ‘cause “With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams; it is still a beautiful world”.
My words, for all that I may never have time to share with you. And the purple clouds over the distant hills.

[photo courtesy:feed231.photobucket.com]
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