Shameless plug - hear our group's songs and view the slide show on our MySpace site. Click on my name at the end opf this post or got to www.myspace.com/yoginis. Nothing to buy, just enjoy.

A reporter asked a new age guru: “what kind of devotees you have?”

“They are mostly dimwits, nitwits, half-wits and last but not the least,
many of them are boors,” the guru replied.

“Strange,” said the reporter, “you do not have followers with brains?”

“They do not need me,” replied the new age guru.

-- from Tales of A New Age Guru

The first grade class gathers around their teacher, Miss Goodbody, for a game of "Guess the Animal." The first picture she holds up is a cat. "Okay, boys and girls," she says brightly, "can anyone tell me what this is?" "I know! I know! It is a cat." Yells little Albert. "Very good, Albert," says Miss Goodbody. "Now who knows what this animal is called?" "That's a dog," pipes up little Suzie. "Right again. And what about this animal?" she asks, holding up a picture of a deer. Silence falls over the class. After a minute or two Miss Goodbody says, "I will give you a hint, children, listen. It is something that your mother calls your father around the house." "I know! I know!" screams little Ernie. "It is a horny bastard!"

I am happy with how the humanity is heading incorporating the Devils agenda.
I don’t want to end this eye pleasing show just as soon.
I have postponed the episode of apocalypse for another 1000 years.
I have got a few hours more hours across the globe to continue the tension.
In my consultation with Christ, he is not happy with my Satanism. He wants the show to end. I want to reign for another 1000 years. You are all my children and followers of my discipline. Some of you have even out-smarted me and my pride has no bounds. Time to fly away west of west of your country, just to make sure there aren’t many good souls to let loose for another thousand years.

A courtesy visit by the beast.

Hi Geeta

Do you mind giving me your email address,feel like writing to you - only if you dont mind! Hope you get to read this.

Cheers
R :)

Musician Billy Preston has passed away. Now there was someone who had the Spirit. Yahoo video has a clip of him playing at the Concert for Bangla desh in 1972.

When Billy played, the Beast danced just like everyone else. He had to. There was no resisting that Wall of Soul Sound he was making with his Hammond. There's a few souls the Devil cain't touch, and he knows he cain't.

Billy's is one of them.

RIP BILLY!

www.billypreston.net

Dear Mallikka,
I read your comments regarding the posts..Well i must add your intervention is timely and very much needed.
As a reader i'm interested in reading how other woman are trying to make a living and raise their family.Parenting and woman issues are close to my heart.I am honoured as a reader when people share their personal experiences and we learn something from it for eg. Kristen's blog was exceptional ,inspiring and very motivating.I hope in future we read more such writings.

I shared my daughter's rose bush story...well the red rose bush has has bloomed.It has 24 roses red crimson roses!!!

Thanks
Andaleeb

HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY DAVID HALL!! Thursday, June 8th, is David's Birthday!! I may not be here, as my son has heart and other tests again tomorrow, so I am posting this "gift" and "major surprise" I've made David, today, and also b/c of the time zone differences of up to 12 hours!!

HaPpY BiRtHdAy David Hall--I made you a blog for your birthday!! ON that blog, is up to 30 designs, all made just for you in lieu and honour of your birthday!

KEEP the blog, if you want it; I will change all settings to you, you can change the name of the blog to your own... and make it just for you and Patzi : ) a private blog? lol : )

This sentimental journey; is to show you how much we at IntentBlog adore you David!! Yes, Patzi "knew" about it, I showed her first b/c she's your gal, and I wanted to let her know I was spoiling you this way(smiles.)

I am so very pleased you liked the one I sent you personally : )

David, here's your birthday surprise!! I realize not everyone is a blogspot member, and won't be able to respond there, so I'm sure they can EM you with their wish's or post them here at Intent?

Much love to you and Patzi, David!!

http://northspost.blogspot.com/

North

Oh, the northspot.blogspot.com is the "gift" lol

Dear readers/bloggers,

Not too long back..my friend and I have formed an online reading & literary discussion club called 'TABULA RASA' which means a blank slate. We promote knowledge of any kind. If you love to read, discuss or write then I feel this is a great place for you. Not only can you read and share your views through comments but also post your own interesting infos so that we can spread the knowledge.

Please visit: http://t-rasa.blogspot.com for details and to become an official 'free' member just email us at rasatab@gmail.com with a subject title that says 'join tabula' - we'll send u an invite asap.

Thank you for letting me use intentblog and to you all - looking forward to seeing you soon!

I want to see more more movies being filmed in my dear city of Ottawa - capital of Canada. Forget Toronto and Calgary - Ottawa is beautiful for filming. If any producer/directors happen to surf by here, do check out www.ottawa.com for more information and beautiful images of Ottawa.

http://www.dailycelebrations.com/070699.htm

"If you lead with your heart, it will carry you much further than your brains will." ~ Sylvester Stallone

Sylvester Enzio Stallone (1946-) celebrates a birthday today. Born in the dangerous streets of New York's Hell's Kitchen, Sly studied drama at the University of Miami and was discouraged from pursuing acting by his teachers.

"I grew up with a pretty profound complex of inadequacy. And I thought the only way to override that was through creating an imposing exterior."

So he pumped his body up into Rocky Balboa and John Rambo, creating larger-than-life superheroes, becoming an international superstar. Stallone's characters celebrated the underdog, overcoming great odds and soaring in the face of adversity.

In 1976, Stallone wrote the Rocky script in longhand and refused to let any one else play the role of the prize fighter. In Rocky's words, "believe in yourself, and you can do anything."

But beneath Stallone's noticeable speech impediment and even more noticeable brawn, beats the heart of an articulate, sensitive artist. He began painting while at college, earning enough money to make it to Hollywood.

Stallone, the artist, paints by squeezing colors directly onto the canvas. He uses bold strokes, vigorous splashes of heart and energy. His works always include the image of a clock or watch, because "time well spent is hard to accomplish, while time lost is a tragedy."

Love, Passion!

I wasn't going to come back to Navin's post but saw Kavita's insightful comments, thought I clarify few things to the best of "my" abilities, since this is in general, I'm posting it here. I would like to help add to the dialogue on various issues cropped up lately

Kavita you said : (I know its very easy to track down IP addresses, regions from where they originated and a repeat pattern. Even if someone uses different computers, the IP addresses remain the same, when used in the same space from the same cable..if used from some other space the numbers are similar..and the same person cannot run and be in far away places at the same time especially when you see too many aliases popping up one after the other.)

I think you are mistaken above, if someone really wants to make a mischief, h/she can use thousands of freely available proxy servers to fool anyone on the web. You can be in India and showing up as from NY if you use the properly located proxy server to connect, so above you are way too optimistic. I think Navin is on the wild goose chase at his post, but that is besides the point here.

Kavita said : (Personally, I am not in favor of either unregulated space, or unmonitored comments, or aliases.I have mentioend this to Mallika every time, but she has always believed in the goodness of people and that we will all ignore what needs to be ignored)

I am on record against this idea for this wonderful blog where there is too much potential for authentic community. I hope Mallika would make a wise decision in this regard.

Kavita said: (Aliases give people ample opportunity to be nasty or negative.)

Not necessarily, I am honest with my alias, everyone should trust each other. Those who make real mischief are authentic spammers and they have nothing to do with this argument or anything else on this blog. Those who use aliases to be negative or nasty, they are human beings as well, if they choose to do this today, they may not do the same tomorrow. It is all a learning curve on the net. My point is: try to distinguish between a spammer and a human being by looking at the big picture on the net, do not fear the aliases, it gives more speaking powers to those who may not speak otherwise. It is a phenomenon in itself on the web, try to accept and learn from it.

Kavits said : (Someone had put it very well, in one of the posts that this is not a space to make friends or take things personally, but people are human and do that irrespective. I try my best to keep a detached sense, because the people who like me or dislike me here only like or dislike their perception of me..the only people who matter are the ones who really know who I am.)

This is the paragraph which I read and instantly thought of writing my comments. You are absolutely right and wrong at the same time. You are correct when you say that people who know you like you or dislike you here because of their perception of you. You cannot be more right. This is absolutely true in general for everyone, we all make perception of writings/names/words, this is exactly why alias is okay because it does not matter if you have a picture or blog or not, people do make perception of you behind a computer screen.

But you (or anyone) should not be "detached" to a point where you are not "engaged" in the process.

Here I urge readers to look up M. Scott Peck (Mallika I highly recommend a read if you haven't seen his work, it would be really helpful for you to manage this blog). Scott Peck in his 1985's The Different Drum lays out the idea of achieving an authentic community environment. Peck is widely known for his best seller The Road Less Travelled, but you'd be amazed to read his The Different Drum as his ideas are perfect and highly applicable in modern world specially on the net.

According to Peck, the achievement of authentic community environment (what I would call nirvana) could be between two people, ten or hundreds. It all takes some awareness of few STAGES of the process.

First stage -- Pseudocommunity: This is a stage where the members pretend to have a bon homie with one another, and cover up their differences, by acting as if the differences do not exist. Pseudocommunity can never directly lead to community, and it is the job of the person guiding the community building process to shorten this period as much as possible.

Second stage -- Chaos: When pseudocommunity fails to work, the members start falling upon each other, giving vent to their mutual disagreements and differences. This is a period of chaos. It is a time when the people in the community realize that differences cannot simply be ignored. Chaos looks counterproductive but it is the first genuine step towards community building.

Third step -- Emptiness: After chaos comes emptiness. At this stage, the people learn to empty themselves of those ego related factors that are preventing their entry into community. Emptiness is a tough step because it involves the death of a part of the individual. But, Scott Peck argues, this death paves the way for the birth of a new creature, the Community.

Fourt stage -- True community: Having worked through emptiness, the people in community are in complete empathy with one another. There is a great level of tacit understanding. People are able to relate to each other's feelings. Discussions, even when heated, never get sour, and motives are not questioned.

Navin and North (participant examples) and Admin intentblog (facilitator or guide) can figure out where they were according to these stages. And if you're wise enough, you can also see how Norm and Ron came out of emptiness and touched upon the authentic understanding (going back and forth). These are just wonderful examples, and they look more wonderful if you make yourself aware of the process.

I mention these theories to you guys because I have been through the nirvana of fourth stage (somewhere else). I was instantly hooked to this site because I saw the potential of this site to have the same experience.

Thank you for reading.

M. Scott Peck on Answers.com

http://www.answers.com/main/ntquery?s=m.+scott+peck&gwp=13

M. Scott Peck on Answers.com

http://www.answers.com/main/ntquery?s=m.+scott+peck&gwp=13

Excellent post noname. I too had read Kavita's post (ref. 204), and I thought it was a well thought out, and presented, discussion/observation. I also did/do have reservations about the "keeping detached / and the only people who matter are the ones who really know who I am" part; but these are just personal issues for me anyway.

I guess I am just a touchy-feely kind of guy who kinda 'feels' that the 'objectivity' thing is no more than a front for hiding personal prejudice, and salting it with some scientific language.

I am not picking on Kavita, I am making this as a general observation about all of us. I, personally, am tired of us all being detached from 'the other';

after 'detachment' (and, ironically, conversely, with too much 'I know what is right' emotion) what then do you get? Insurance salesman, plastic surgeons (nip and tuck here . . .), lawyers, and of course wars, and then concentration camps!

Ahh, wherefore est the golden mean of the high-minded human being . . .

Anyway . . .

peace

Clandestine prisons and secret flights
when the U.S. government is involved
nobody has rights
cepting of course a Senator to free travel

Christian coalitions and their moneyed
‘rule of law’
making it practically illegal and unaffordable to live
with our taxes paying for their war and all

AIPAC, NRA, NSA, DoD, and ‘oversight’ committees
Big Brother accountable to Big Brother alone (sometimes)
and the legal analyst tells me, “it is legal after all;”
citing precedents and briefs and friends of the courts’ writings

with latinated verbiage one would think they are Greek
after all
Albion’s Seed
indeed

To Israel we must go
this Holy book told us so
to kill all Palestinians b/c they are not even human
see here God said so (b/c MY interpretation is true!)

God told me so!
God told me so!
Do you not see God told me so!
And if you do not believe me this gun will show you all

When ‘normally’ if one hears voices
they are gagged and bound and sent a packing
like a Chinaman refusing to lay track
for the railroad

This land is your land, this land is my land,
this land was made for you and me
as long as you subscribe to dispensationalist
theology . . .

Even now those savage Natives and black is evil
Africans agree
the white man’s guns, er, God
is superior to any pagans’ philosophy

‘Apocalypse Week’ played every week
a European will be the evil one
not understanding that European will be American
claiming descendancy from Wessex’ family tree

Overextended Saxons
and their immigrant and illegal fodder
preying upon their fellow man for money
pride, God, and honor

Playing the role of persecuted victim
as they lay siege to this world’s abundant gifts
‘O God,’ the queers want rights
so should we kill them now too heavenly Father?

Ten thousand of the richest rich
and all of those who believe in a vengeful God
up against the wall (disappear as you believe)
and make way for the age of man

A kingdom united in peace
and with the love of God
serving each other as we would our mother
and dropping to the ground our monetary idols

For a thousand years I say humanity shall rule the day
and for those who want war and more and more
love shall one day overcome your greed
aye, tis our destiny

peace all

Dear Noname,
There is no need to stop yourself from coming back to my blog anymore. You are most welcome there. Your above post is more relevant to my blog. And thanks so much for explaining so well about group behaviour and also about IP addresses myths.

Cheers!
Navin

arrggghhh.

would a world without conflict be boring?

a girl with an alias called,

onegirlmanyideas

R, who are you? Please tell me more about yourself, if you can on the blog. I will think about your request. Give me hints if you can't tell me more. I will help you if I can. I will let you know tomorrow. God bless you. geeta.

Hi Navin, I know I should have commented on your blog but I was of the opinion from my post 1 at your blog that Admins made a grave mistake by putting you up on the stage after what happened at another blog a day earlier, I think they should have started the Open Thread at that time and not Navin thread. However, we are all entitled to our own opinions and Admins here can judge for themselves.

The only reason I wish to stay away from your blog "now" is because I do not wish to indulge myself in negativity (as rightly pointed out by Kavita). But that does not mean others should stay away as well, it is for everyone to figure out what and how far they wish to go in "resolving the conflict". The problem I see with your blog is that "we" do not have any facilitator or doctor to lead somewhere, I was suspecious that your blog will be going nowhere and it transpired exactly how I felt Sunday morning. But that is besides the point now and it is not my concern, I wish you and friends well and good luck.

Dear noname,
I think if you read the last few posts on my blog, you would notice that the conflicts have been resolved. At least I think so. You are surely entitled to have your opinion and I usually do concur with most of your views but I think the admin were not at fault at all. Things went ahead just as scheduled. Everything happens for the best. I am sure you would see something good churning out of the recent chaos at Intentblog. It's a part of its natural evolution.

Cheers!
Navin

Geeta:
Just a word of caution...
There is no "r" in my name at all & I didnot ask for ur email address. It's very difficult to keep track of all the posts on IB due to the number & so I thought of informing u this. Though I would love to talk with u directly over email, its not me who asked for ur email add this time. :)
I just dont want anyone to misuse my lovely relation with you & spoil it in anyway.
Love to u!Take care!!

Dear R:
I didn’t (don’t) mean to offend or hurt u in anyway. It’s just that I am very particular about my relation with Geeta. She’s my dear cyber-aunt & I love her a lot. I love you too, R. I love everyone… 
Take care of urslf. I hope Geeta or someone help u with whatever it is.
Love & God bless!

Poetry Corner - Poetry of Love

"would a world without conflict be boring?"
Everyone kissy-kissy,
everyone nicey-nicey,
I love ya
God bless ya
(but not, make love, not war)
peace be with you brother,
I see all sisters, no lover
sure, for Jesus' sake
it would be dull and boring

lovers know how it feels
when after long fighting
long loves they make
world will be boring without fighting
I bet ya
world will be boring without fighting
O ya
world will be borinbg without fighting

Note: The first line is from onegirlmanyideas.

~Ravi Kopra

Hi Navin, glad to see that you have reached some sort of resolution, yes indeed everything happens for the best and it is always possible to have a good come out of chaos. I have missed like 100 posts from where I left off so its just a matter of my personal choice to not go back as I do not believe in jumping over anything (if I decide to get involved).

Thanks for correcting me about the Admins, you have a good point, since I do not know how they plan things here, it is quiet possible that it may not have been their fault altogether.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAVID!!

Swear, I knew it(R) was not your alias. Don't worry about anything. I do not wish harm to any one and I will walk away from any one wishing me harm. I have enjoyed reading and writing on intentblog. I have an idea who is "R". But I am not sure. If some one makes me uncomfortable with his or her comments, all I have to do is walk away from the blog. I am spending a lot of my time here. Walking away will be good too. I can read more. I have not made jewellery for a while. I can get back to my other hobbies. All of us have choices. Although I love interacting with every one on the blog and have learnt from every one, made some good cyberfriends, I have many real friends. Some times they complain I don't spend enough time with them. Lena does not like me sitting infront of the computer, although she has her laptop next to her all the time. Take care dear cyberniece. I just sent a email to my real niece in India. God bless you always.

Poetry Corner - Poetry of Stupidity

How stupid, how stupid
Two hot shot women
came to save me
how stupid, how stupid

I have been kicked
two hundred times
Kick me one hundred times more
how stupid, how stupid

at two hundred I got vodka
at three hundred I want champagne
how stupid, how stupid

I have been stupid
everyone knows
come back and see me
if you too are stupid
how stupid, how stupid

I got a call from Rangoon
I checked her name
she was a dame
my heart went
flying to moon
I'm waiting for her photo now
how stupid, how stupid

~Ogden Lash

ROFL, Ravi! Now I've gotcha!

You like playing mind games, don't ya! I can play the game too, buddy. Why do you think I have that chessboard in front of me in my picture. LOL. I am not as smart as you think.......lol....I'm smarter!

Cheers!
Navin

Poetry Corner - Poetry of Policemen

Policeman, policeman
please do not report my name
I'm still on path number two
(or was it path number three?)
I'm still after money
still after women and fame

Policeman, policeman
please do not report my name
I didn't want to run on red lights
I was in hurry to get
to district of red lights
please be fair, play a fair game
please do not report my name

Policeman, policeman
I am a spiritual man
I believe in ghosts and souls
I believe in peace and love
I believe in hell below
and heaven of father above
please do not report my name

Note: Inspired by the news release that policemen and vigilantes have been let loose on the site and any unwarranted activity will be immediately reported to the ministry of morality and spirituality.

~Ogden Lash

I make websites for non-profit groups for fun and don't charge anything for it. If you happen to know anyone who needs a website (and whose motives are to save the world, etc) I may be able to help them out. My email address is on my website. http://www.emtek.net.nz

Keith:
I am sorry I missed ur note to me on the previous OT (06/05). How about a camp tonite? Geeta, Katie, Heather & others, what say? :)

I think we all deserve a break. Its around 90 degrees here in TX - "scalding" hot!

Take a deep breath everyone. What a unique opportunuty we have here to grow as a family. It's been one year since the birth of this site. It has grown by leaps and bounds and, with it, a few hiccups.

But for the most part, we have indulged in some stimulating discussions. There are some great minds and thinkers here, as well as jesters, poets, academics, teachers, etc. Marek is a great one, as is Divya, Kate, David, Ron and many more, too numerous to mention.

There is fair mix of odd ones, too. But that is life. It would be a perfect world if everyone was normal and nice. To not expect a few odd balls to get in the act is to be unrealistic.

Mallika, Kavita, Deepak, Shekhar, you are all doing a fine job. Leave Intent alone and let it evolve. If anyone of us is unhappy with this site, there are millions more to choose from. No one holds a gun to our head and forces to to stay. No little cloaked man will jump out of our monitor and bite us. Relax!

Good day, I must get to work.

Dear Geeta,

Thats ok, I know its a bit awkward to ask for email addresses but I did anyway :) I am a 25 year old SEA female professional, not based in the States :), also I speak tamil!. No problem Geeta, I can share your love and affection through this blog!! You are so loving and caring, and everytime I read your comments,I think wouldn't it be wonderful to meet this person. I visit this blog regularly, but hardly comment, as my work schedule is pretty hectic, so I usually end up reading selective comments and threads.

Swear aam not spiritual - sorry did not mean to disrupt your relationship with your cyber aunt!! :) Geeta, I am not swear aam not spiritual! ;) You have not hurt me in anyway,I love you too :)

Ok work calls me...

Love R :)

Dear Dr. Geeta,

Can you explain what is hypertension and its dangers if left untreated? Will be much appreciated.

Love, Angie.

Happy Bday David!!!!

May you see lots and lots of butterflies and be happy!!

Love, Joanie

Dear David,

many many happy returns and have a great day
Dara

"Narad Muni", you poems made me laugh. Keep 'em comin'. Goodnight.

Dear David, it is almost 11PM here, not sure on your time there, a few hours difference though, I"m sure?

The treasure hunt has begun!!

Click on the Transporter Button, to be transported to your "gift"

Many, many Birthday wish's and blessings are being manifested for you, and on behalf of me and mine, HaPpY BiRtHdAy!!

Blogger was done for a bit today, it's working now, enjoy the pictures!

Hi Patzi, please give that birthday boy lots of hugs next month, as belated from his friends from his birthday! : )

Much love, and many Smiles upon you,
North & fam

Dear David,

As you rapidly navigate toward the 49th latitude, or is that longitude, may you stay steady on your feet and avoid tripping on those sheets gently blowing in the winds. Norm and his pals are planning a surprise Colorado visit by horse-drawn carriage. He's got loads of CR in tow.

Happy Birthday, David!

Poetry Corner -Poetry of My Woman

I write poems of love.
She complains:
They are not for her.

I go to the mall with her.
When some woman there
smiles at me,
she throws a fit: why she.

When I thank a woman
for a job well done,
she goes bonkers cussing her:
she's the bitch number one.

What do I do with my woman?

~Ravi Kopra
http://ravikopra.blogspot.com/2006/04/what-do-i-do-with-my-woman.html
(Edited)

David Of 48 Lives,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!Welcome to the club! I'm not surprised...

it's the 7,7,7,7,7...my favorite hand in stud!

(Blue Oyster Cult song)

You best be joining the party tonight!

If it is your birth anniversary, cake said so!

If it's not...and you won't spill,

HAPPY TO YA! whenever, dude!

.

May you soar to Lake,

Where The Lady resides,

And thrusts to the sky

On that predestined day,

Excaliber!

On the point of the Sword

Was a gift for Sir David...

The Man of the Hour

Shall regain the flower,

That never grows old,

That blooms into gold,

The key to the Tower of Power!

Thanks for your friendship, Dave!

Have a great one, Keith

Indeed Kavita!

Narad: nice policemen poem! I am going to use your no. 26 post to go off on a tangent, so take nothing I say as a personal attack upon you brother. It probably has alot to do with this chick named Paula who I once 'knew.' She was one of 'those' violent yelling physical types of a chick that just loved getting drunk, and when two people can sit there and kill off a half gallon of Black Velvet in one afternoon, you know something not good is going to happen . . .

Anyway peace Narad and you write some interesting poetry brother!

peace

Poetry Corner - I’ll lie down in bed with my Hari

My charmer is Girdhar Gopal.
Like a mad woman in love,
I’ll dance to please him
And know his followers who love him.
Little bells of love and affection,
I’ll tie around my ankles
And I’ll dance and dance
Wearing a robe of remembrance.

To the winds I’ll throw
My name and modesty.
I’ll lie down in bed with my Hari
To get his love-bliss instead.

~ Mirabai (1498-1547)
Translated by Ravi Kopra

It is really a trip thinking, "dang, what if I am the 'they'?"

What do any of you think we would be thinking if we were a ten year old Iraqi youth in 2003, and if we were still alive today, what do you think we would think about our family and friends being blown apart by invisible planes in the sky, or being gunned down by 'coalition' soldiers, or being pitted against a fellow Iraqi who now works for the foreign invaders . . .

What would one do?????

I know what I would do, and I do not like those thoughts!!!!!!!

I would gladly burn in Hell forever and ever to stop this madness, I really would!

And I refuse to believe that any nation, or race, has a God-given right to kill other people; be they Anglo, Palestinian, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Arab, Christian, or even a Norseman . . .

Anybody that invokes God, and then kills their fellow man IS THE ANTICHRIST!

And anybody who kills for money or country, well they must not even have souls, and I know this thought will really upset some ‘patriots’ . . .

But what exactly is a ‘patriot?’ One who loves ‘his’ or ‘her’ country, well, when I make my own country I suppose then I will be a patriot . . .

750 airstrikes on the Afghani people in the month of May alone makes me distrust this nation’s authorities even more, and it certainly does not suit my interest to kill people, and before anybody says it is better to kill them over there, blah, blah, blah, I would suggest studying exactly what ‘we’ have been doing over there for the last 100 years and why it is Osama has such a beef with us.

And . . .

Ann Coulter can suck . . . , er, oops: sorry there is no sex in violence, or a, sex is all violence, or a . . .

well fantasies aside (damn we are just animals); she is evil.

I nominate General Zod for president, with Solomon Grundy for vice prez, & Victor Doom for the U.S. ambassador to the U.N (O wait, they are already there). . . .

and I want our money to read, “In Odin we Trust” (ew yeah, ‘bring it on’ Pat Robertson). . .
Maybe Pat Robertson was on to something with his advice on ‘taking out’ the other: gather together the 10,000 richest people of the world, and, anybody who professes a belief in God, any God,

and put them up against the wall (inspired of course by Pink Floyd).

Then we might actually start progressing as a species. I left all me books in Seattle (going back in the morning though to try to make things right yet again) or else I would whip out a quote by Bertrand Russell right now, but it is something about we gotta, oops, I mean, we have to, stop looking unto the heavens for a God to save us, and start looking at ourselves, within and without, before we will ever have a chance for peace.

And . . .

I am all about the making love after a fight bit, but is that before or after one chops her head off with an axe? Or now are you going to ‘qualify’ your fighting? Is that purely verbal (or nonverbal), or just a few slaps, or, maybe close-fisted on occasion, or maybe after the Air Force or Marines blow up a house of Iraqi girls (or shoots them in the head . . .) one could then ‘get a piece’ . . .

yeah . . .

And if some dudes believe in beating or otherwise verbally abusing ‘your’ (is that nominative or possessive for you?) wife, then well, uhh, stay away from my sister ok . . .

Again, the main culprit: ECONOMICS! Domestic violence is a direct consequence of economics and education (and the beer and ‘bitches’ commercials certainly do not help). Yet, alas, that is a book in itself . . .

I know, I know, ‘sex sells,’ yet a prostitute cannot sell his/her own body. Hmm. Very strange. Or is it just the untaxed income part that makes ‘the man’ mad . . .

peace

Craig, thank you for your interest in my poetry posts.

David!! Happy Birthday!!! this year has been a hell of a ride hasn't it? I hope you live to be 200 and i get to be one of your pallbearers!!

norm

David, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU. May you have a wonderful day filled with fun. God bless. Geeta.

Angie, I will tell you what I know about hypertension tomorrow some time. God bless. Good night.

It is after midnight in Ohio, and therefore, June 8, 2006. Now, if June 8th happened to be David Hall’s birthday, I would say:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAVID!!!

That is, if June 8th was truly his birthday... :) Love you, my dear friend! Patzi

Happy Birthday David!!

Did you and Patzi like your surprise?

Did you find the transporter button? lol

Stayed up late, just to wish you a great birthday!!

It's 12:20 PM here ... so on with the b.day party!!

Love to you and Patzi, NOrth

Hi Everyone,
I have some wrapping to do, for someone's special day!
Please join me in celebrating Dave's birthday.
~ Kate

http://www.urban75.com/Mag/bubble.html

Happy Birthday David!

And very nice B-day gift North; very kewl!

peace all

Merci Craig, when is your BDay?!

Kate, that was cute! who doesn't like popping bubble wrap?

Patzi, being you are the "lady" of the birthday boy, we counted on YOU< to bring cake! ahem...

I brought a giant bag of buttery popcorn-because I am a popcorn freak, and that's what I brought.

I mean, this bag-o-popcorn is huge, like a giant bowl size even....

Kate, I can't stop popping that thing! lol

POP!!

Geeta admitted she was against pop, so I am not going to show her I brought some diet coke..

sooOO sssssssssHhhhH and hid the pop cooler!!

North

Dear North,
Wow!
Your birthday creation for Dave is really fantastic.

Patzi, we will celebrate June 8th as Dave's day, and maybe - we really do have the day right :)))

SANS,
I will ask Tiffany if she has saved some of the festive decorations, poppers and balloons - and we will host a party for the b-day guy.

~Kate

Poetry Corner - Poetry of Finding God

Dear redneck mountain man,
How many mountains you’ve to climb
To find your god in caves there
While he is staring at you
Standing somewhere down there,
Eating his pizza with macaroni,
Cheese and pepperoni.

Kingdom of god is in you.
Kingdom of god is in your
Lady Black Bird too.
Find your god in her.
Let her find her god in you.
You’ll not find him
Down there in your guru.

Stop climbing mountains, mountain man,
Stop coming down mountains, mountain man,
Stay there where you are, mountain man,
Stop running to your guru.

~Ogden Lash

Dear Dave,
Happy Birthday!

That is, if June 8th was truly your birthday... :) as your girlfriend Patzi says.

Cheers,
Navin

Hi Narad,
As the poet Rumi has said,
... Sell your cleverness and purchase bewilderment

Come and join us in celebration.
Put down your masterful pen for awhile.

Come and join us at the campsite.
Feel the warmth,
enjoy the company
revel in the silence.
~ Kate

Dear Mallika,

Thanks for your kind comments solely directed to me. I was afraid your dad, your brother and you would soon be sending policemen to arrest me for maligning your site.

Bhagwan Yogiraj sends you kind regards.

Sincerely
Ravi Kopra

Dear Kate, I've been at Intent as long as David has, maybe even a week or two longer, before I actually responded. David was the first being here, to witness my presence. IF David had never responded to my posts, I doubt I'd have stayed, because believe it or not, I was terrible shy back then.

I actually remember the day DAvid came into the blog, after he'd met Patzi last year here;

lamenting "she likes me, she really likes me" or something to that effect when he and Patzi met; which he may chastise me now, in revealing(though it is on-blog archived-last year?) lol

so, we witnessed their meeting... so they are both very special to me! : ) and would be having their first anniversary of sorts soon too(wink!)

The rest, as we know; is history in the making perhaps?

North

My knowing David's b.day came from David : ) just yesterday, or the day before, I think?

As anyone can see on the blog for David is the date it was created. I can't tell you how long this week felt for, waiting to give him this surprise!! lol

Patzi knew about this surprise-I contacted her about it(wink) friday night, as she's his girl, and I didn't want to seem to jump over another lady's fence(giggles.)

All I wanted to do really, was make him smile; and feel our united affections and admirations.

AS I mentioned on the blog; these designs were inspired and created; while thinking of the many nice things ya'll have said about David this past year.. newbies and oldies alike!

Anyone see themself anywhere in a picture? a fave colour, symbol, creature, fantasy(eeek!)? if so, it was probably YOU I was thinking of at the time.

North

Dear North,
Love has a way, doesn't it :)))
You have many gifts and talents. The card for Dave and Patzi is lovely.

Dave,
You do have a special way of reaching out that makes the writing at Intentblog extra-special. I pray this will be a very happy and healthy year for you.

Time for a party, and good vibrations!

With deep love,
~ Kate

Love is the way, Kate : )

I hope David finds his way to his Party!! Maybe Patzi went to get him?

Hmm, if she did.... they may not return tonight?(wink)

North

Dear Kate,
Thanks for the invitation. I am, however, very busy working on my magnum opus of spiritual and love poetry. I will soon be posting some translations of Rumi.

Dear North and Kate, OK, I will bring the cake, but I will do everyone a favor and not bake it myself! There is a wonderful bakery not too far from here, and I will order one first thing in the morning. The cake itself will be half chocolate and half vanilla. The frosting will be white, but decorated with Monarch and blue butterflies. Just for fun, I’ll order one of those photo-cakes. In the center will be a photo of David as a young boy, with his blonde-reddish hair and green eyes. He is just so adorable! I’ll bring plates, forks, and napkins also decorated with butterflies. And of course, candles. Love, Patzi

Dear Patzi, sounds like a wonderful plan!!

G'Night for now,

North

Hi "Kids": Thank you for the birthday wishes--I still have two more hours before "old age" officially sets in.

Cake--since your using a "false ID," I'm going to have to contact Mallika and track you down---but....I already know you're one of 5, well maybe.....maybe one of 10-20 people, so you can't hide from me Missy!

Joanie--I now have a Monarch butterfly who cruises around my balcony everyday around 2 p.m.--and had one at Starbucks the other day, also (I wondered if it was the same one--stalking me!)--thank you for the b-day wishes.

Holy Shithe--just got off the phone with Kavita, after leaving off the above paragraph--and see Dara, Ron, Keith, Norm, Mallika, Geeta, Kate, North, Craig, Navin, and.....and...ummmm, "what's her name???", oh yeah--Patzi--very very touching and fun stuff you guys--and such beautiful pictures and words from Keith and North---you guys make me look like I have a sunburn!

But...miracles will never cease--a poem from the "man, the myth, the legend" himself--Narad the Bhagwan--and I've been reading about a Master who also likes caves, and temples, who is part of "The Life and Teachings of The Masters of the Far East," and he is referred to as "the Muni."

Soooo....now that I've got "an original," about a redneck mountain man (with a documentary just last night called "Mountain Man")--I'm having a mystical out-of-body soul experience, and am in "Hog Heaven!"

Norm--it is interesting that at Ramtha's school in Washington, they are trying to get the mindset to begin accepting 200 years of "Happy, Healthy, Wealthy, and Wise" as a reality--and sooner or later someone's mind will accept it as a reality, and so it will be!

There is a Chinese man I read about, who was born in 1677, who became an acupuncturist in his early years--in short, the Chinese gov't sent him an authentically recognized acknowledgment of his longevity at 150--then again at 200!

He supposedly died in 1933--at 256. During his lifetime, since he had outlived great-great-great.....grandchildren, he was asked if the tea, Fo Ti Tiang, was the secret to his longevity, since he drank alot of it.

His response was: No, the secret is Inner Peace!

Sooo....Ditto to you guys--thanks for the most unique gifts I've ever gotten--all from "thin air!" Much Love--"The Old Man and the.....Mountains" (and it's still not my birthday for 20 minutes here!)

Dear Narad,
When you can - join us at the campsite.
Come and sit near me, and let me look into your eyes. It has been said, the eyes are the window to the soul.
~ Kate

Dave:
Hap hap happy birthday to you! May you have a lovely life ahead ahead.... :)

Party tonite, what time r u making it there? :)

Dave:
Hap hap happy birthday to you! May you have a lovely life ahead ahead.... :)

Party tonite, what time r u making it there? :)

Poetry Corner - A dear dimwitted dude

Dear dimwitted dude,
Like Catholics look to Vatican
To follow what says Pope to them,
Like Muslims pray Allah
Kneeling down facing Mecca,
Like Hindus pray facing the sun
Pouring down waters of Ganga,
You ask your guru whom to knock down.
(you pump iron for knocking down,
brawn has taken over your brain)
Don’t be mistaken dimwitted dude,
You have no brain left of your own.
You pawned it for spirituality.
You will do what your gurus says,
No logic in your brain now stays.

~Ogden Lash

Swear..aam.....: For somebody who's not spiritual, quite being so loving then!

....and you guys stop with the birthday stuff--I just floated back onto my balcony after my helium-ballon-like ego floated me out around the big pine tree where that Monarch butterfly seems to live (I think it's got a micro-implant on it that's a video cam of some sort, and it's the NSA's--so I drew a big poster that said "Hi George and Dick" on it--and held it up for "the butterfly!).

I don't want Ravi to see me blushing, or he'll see that more than my neck is red, and....and....we'll, he might, just post, start posting under another identity.

.....and that reminds me, I think I've spotted a mystical soulful kind-of-guru-like guy reciting some of Rumi's poetry at the campfire.....

.....since I don't drink anymore, you'll have to excuse me while I accidentally go spill one of your beers on his head, and.....well, from there, I guess it's up to Ron and Norm to get him punch-stumbling drunk on some Crown Royale (multiple shots ought to do the trick), and then we can video/sound record him slurring with his poetry a bit......and.....well, I get the sense that Navin will know where to post that one--maybe MSN's "homepage," for instance!

Looks like your stuck with us Ravi-Narad-the Bhagwan-Muni; time to do what you do best--more poetry--and I genuinely love the "Redneck Mountain Man," read it three times now--and not to piss you off--but it's got "real soul" in it!--

Thank You, Mr. Ogden Nash (quit changing the spelling of your reincanated last name--I know who you are--I remember you from "back when, and over there," when you lost your head, mouthing off at the establishment, as a guy named Cicero).

But I definitely want to catch a glimpse of Kate, melting the Bhagwan down as she looks in his eyes, and gets more than just his soul acknowledging his physical presence!!!

Very very "fun stuff" you all--right fittin' for a magnificent birthday--North, again--amazing talents you have.

Navin: You did well "Grasshopper;" when I used to surf the Southern California waves, I had a friend who I could always ding; I'd see some dolphins or porpoises coming close, and would feign panic, look at my friend, and yell "sharks!"

He'd only catch a glimpse of their dorsal fins long enough "to see" what he believed were shark fins, and he'd start paddling feverishly for shore, before realizing that "I got him again."

When for a time, you thought the fins of your friends were those of sharks (and rightly so!), and for a short time panicked, you found your balance, and began to swim steady and strong--and then you remembered that things are safe, when the dolphins and porpoises are near--you did well, Navin, very well---"lessons are worth what the cost you," and the only thing you lost was some fear (false evidence appearing real)--and you stronger, smarter, and more aware as a result of "the adversity"--maybe even "smarter than you yet think you are--I mean, as I sign off--tilting towards that 300 mark--and shifting from quantity, to quality, again!

My friend Patzi said last night, that your blog reads like a "mystery novel" writing itself--like the Mandarin Chinese symbol for catastrophe--the one that simultaneously means opportunity!

You guys have a very fun day--Thursday, and everyday. Dave

When I was just a little boy,
I asked my teacher, 'What will I be?
“Will I be lucky?
Will I be rich?”
Here's what he said to me:

Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be, will be;
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera,
What will be, will be.

When I grew up and found my path,
I asked my Guru, 'What lies ahead?
Will we have enlightenment
stage after stage?
Here's what my Guru said:

Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be, will be;
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera,
What will be, will be.

Now I have disciples of my own,
They ask their Guru, 'What will I be?
'Will I be healthy?
'Will I be rich?'
I tell them tenderly:

Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be, will be;
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera,
What will be, will be

Que Sera Sera

(Edited from the original song by Livingston and Evans.)

Hello again Ogden: You've been looking into Kate's eyes too long, while drinking Rumi's wine--you might want to try out Rumi's spinning exercises--the Sufi's use them to raise their root chakra energy for a psychic discharge--but the Tibetan Lamas say the Sufis do too many in generating this ecstatic state--and it leaves them a bit too "horny," albeit very young and virile!

For myself:

I'm not Catholic, and don't look to the Pope for anything,

I'm not Muslim, and don't pray to Al-Ilah while facing towards Mecca,

I'm not Hindu, praying to the rising sun, along the Holy Ganges,

I don't have a Guru, so I can't ask "Him" who to knock down,

But I do have a Spirit, a Soul with three hearts, and a Brain,

So All-Ah I can ask, is that these three are one,

And instead, "see" what can be raised, as I turn inward, and hear what She says,

And then.....He took Her hand, and they said to me, "Let's start laughing, as we go all the way 'OM!"

Thank You, may I have another, Mr. Lash?--Dave

Once Science said to Faith:
"My eye can see all that is in this world;
The Entire world is within my net.
I am only concerned with material things,
What have I to do with spiritual matters?
I can strike a thousand melodies,
And openly proclaim all the secrets that I learn."

Faith said:
"With your magic even the waves in the sea are set ablaze,
You can pollute the atmosphere with foul, poisonous gases.
When you associated with me, you were light,
When you broke off from me, your light became fire.
You were of Divine origin,
But you have been caught in the clutches of Evil.
Come, make this wasteland a garden once again.
Borrow from me a little of my ecstasy,
And in the world set up a paradise.
From the day of creation we have been associates,
We are the low and high tunes of the same melody." - By Iqbal

Mallika: thanks for your kindness, yes i did read Gotham's post, and was a little overwhelmed. I've never known what to say about it, so didn't say anything....

norm

North, You outdid yourself for David, great pics! Good to see you!

.

David, So it IS the 8th...I still like 7's!

Quite a show here this week, learned a lot about

trust and honesty...it's hard to come by!

You are the one who said genuine friends can be

found here, but Kavita chooses detachment for

cyber-pals. If we met, there would not be many

statements we would have to take back. I consider

you a friend and a neighbor. Someday, God willing,

we shall get together to do the "blood brother"

rituals. Have a wonderful day, bud! Keith

Keith: Have been thinking for some time about a book title that has "Excalibur" in it--"Someday Soon," we'll be talking about it at a "redneck mountain man" campfire!

Thanks for being the great inspiration that you are--Dave

....and Keith: One of the few times I'm "stumped for words;" how to say thank you to both Patzi and North, for what the sent me, and the "birthday friendship" people have shown me here--Dave

Dave, on your health, Na Zdrowie!

Sto lat, sto lat,
Niech żyje, żyje nam.
Sto lat, sto lat,
Niech żyje, żyjenam,
Jeszcze raz, jeszcze raz, niech żyje, żyje nam,
Niech żyje nam!

This translates roughly into English as:

A hundred years, a hundred years,
May he (she) live for us.
A hundred years, a hundred years,
May he live for us.
Once again, once again, may he live, live for us,
May he live for us!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sto_Lat

Love, Passion! and a great party!

Hello Everyone,

Just Wondering..Why Ann Coulter gets so much attention? I am not even outraged anymore by the stuff that makes for news, just really saddened by the gross immaturity that is allowed and nurtured by a truly lost media.

Ann Coulter remarks should be ignored, eyes and ears turned away from, but not our media -they zoom in for the close up, the 1000 takes, just to make sure everyone sees and hears the comments replayed endlessly.

Ann's comments about the 9/11 Widows are in such bad taste that they can only be consided cruel. What kind of person makes cruel comments about people who have suffered so much? What kind of people rewards the person for these remarks by giving constant attention, for money purposes?

Just wondering?ruth

Dave, I know very little about you
But, you are a promoter of peace
I am not purely singing praise
I see a brave man inure
With the finest company, the
humble keep, keith’s with you

May you stay for eons
Till the devil rises again
To have a final fight
And a even match.

HaPpY BiRtHdAy today, David! I didn't think I'd be on today, but it's pouring outside, and my son insisted on going for his tests alone, using the "I'm a big boy Mom" phrase! lol

This is why I posted your blog-gift last night...

sooO, here I am wishing you a great day, sorry I missed last nights fest!! Looks like a good time was had; but Patzi was bringing cake today, so I'll be here for that later tonight!!

Had lots of running around to do today, but that's on hold, due to weather... left windows open lastnight, it was soOo humid, so the ledges are nice and "watery" this fine rainy thursday!

It was my pleasure to surprise you this way David, so I'm very glad it did! : )

Hi Keith, to you too, and thanks for the compliments re: my artwork.

North

HOT DAMN!!!!!! Gotta put my new wishy washy lovey dovey self on hold for a few minutes, and talk about this!!! Our boys got that Bastard Al-Zharqawi this morning!!! Yeeehaww!! (little cowboy language for you there)

Now, according to my Christian friends, he's roasting right now!!! Burn, baby burn!!!

According to my New Age friends, he shot off as a blast of light into the ether, and right now he's deciding whether to come back as a lesbian or a black angus herd bull!!

According to him....right now, he's lying on a couch, having a menage a trois, while 69 other virgins wait impatiently in line!!

Wow....when I look over the options....how do I become a muslim....I gotta blow something up, QUICK!!!!

norm

Dear Friends:

See below a profile of a vile, heinous and despicable killer who emerged directly as a result of the invasion of Iraq. He rose to infamy by his sheer brutality and callous disregard for the value of human life. The monster that Bush has created, at 9 billion dollars a month, is now silenced by Bush.

But what are we to expect interms of retaliation, repercussions, etc. in the short and medium terms? Is this really a turning point in the so-called "War on Terror" as Bush says? Will other monsters, more heinous, rise up to take his place?

What about the biggest devil of them all, bin Laden, will he ever be caught? And is it time for American troops to begin preparation for a systematic withdrawal from Iraq?

Regards,

Ron.

Here is a CNN profile of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi:

BAGHDAD, Iraq (CNN) -- In a horrifying videotape seen around the world, a masked figure brutally beheaded American Nicholas Berg.

Abu Musab al-Zarqawi was the man who claimed credit.

Berg's murder in 2004 was just one in a string of killings, kidnappings and suicide bombings masterminded by the "prince of al Qaeda in Iraq," a protege of Osama bin Laden.

A Sunni militant, al-Zarqawi worked to drive a wedge between the two leading Muslim religious sects and stir up violence that would hurt Iraq's fledgling democracy.

The 39-year-old Jordanian-born terrorist had eluded U.S. and Iraqi authorities for years, often mocking them with recorded messages and videotapes.

Militant Islamic Web sites quickly posted his messages, bringing terrorism to cyberspace and reinforcing his support among Islamists.

In October 2004, al-Zarqawi pledged his allegiance to al Qaeda founder Osama bin Laden, and renamed his group al Qaeda in Iraq. (Watch how al-Zarqawi rose to power -- 2:50)

With the insurgency spreading, the United States grew more determined to catch or kill the Jordanian-born militant, and increased his bounty to $25 million -- equal to bin Laden's.

"This guy, Zarqawi, has sworn his allegiance to bin Laden. He's declared his intentions," President Bush once said. "This is an enemy with no conscience, and they cannot be appeased."

Bin Laden's seal of approval
Most of al Qaeda in Iraq's attacks were against Iraq's Shiite majority.

There was an upsurge in car bombings in Iraq in late April 2005 after the transitional national assembly chose a new Cabinet. It was the worst spike of attacks since the U.S.-led push against militants in Falluja the previous fall.

Al-Zarqawi sought Osama bin Laden's seal of approval, and got it. Bin Laden called him "the prince of al Qaeda in Iraq."

Al-Zarqawi's network was blamed for the 2003 suicide bombing of U.N. headquarters in Baghdad that killed Sergio Vieira de Mello, the U.N. envoy to Iraq, and 21 other people.

Counterterrorism and intelligence officials believe al-Zarqawi forged links with terrorist groups in many other countries, including his native Jordan, where he admitted to the November 11, 2005, triple hotel bombings in Amman that killed 60 people and injured scores, mostly Jordanians.

Jordanian courts have convicted and sentenced al-Zarqawi in absentia.

In December 2005, he was sentenced to death by hanging for a failed suicide bombing at the al-Karama border crossing between Jordan and Iraq. In March, he received 15 years in prison for a plot to attack the Jordanian Embassy in Iraq.

A court handed him a death sentence for the October 2002 assassination of Laurence Foley, with the U.S. Agency for International Development, and convicted him in a December 1999 "millennium" plot against Jordanian hotels.

U.S. and Iraqi forces came close to capturing al-Zarqawi several times. In December 2005, Hussain Kamal, Iraq's deputy minister of interior, admitted that Iraqi security forces had al-Zarqawi in custody in 2004, but released him because they didn't know who he was.

His luck ran out on Wednesday, when he was killed by a coalition airstrike on what was supposed to be a safe house in Baquba.

Finding Allah in prison
Al-Zarqawi's story began in neighboring Jordan, in the working-class city of Zarqa. The young militant, originally named Ahmad Fadil al-Khalailah, later turned the name of his hometown into an alias.

A troubled youth, al-Zarqawi drank -- a taboo in Islam. Then he found Allah, and made his way to Afghanistan in 1989 to do jihad against the Soviets. It's not clear if he ever saw combat, but when he returned to Jordan years later, his aim was clear: overthrowing the government of King Hussein in favor of an Islamic state.

Soon he was in a Jordanian prison, where he emerged as a leader among militants. Freed in an amnesty, he once again went to Afghanistan where he ran a training camp.

Al-Zarqawi fled to Iraq after the U.S.-led attack in Afghanistan and soon made a name for himself as one of the insurgent leaders.

It was after the U.S. invasion and the downfall of Saddam Hussein that al-Zarqawi emerged as a major terrorist figure in Iraq.

In February 2003, al-Zarqawi's name was mentioned on a worldwide stage for the first time, associated with Iraq, when then-Secretary of State Colin Powell appeared before the U.N. Security Council to make his case for the U.S. invasion of Iraq.

Iraq, Powell said, was harboring al-Zarqawi's terrorist network, a "collaborator of Osama bin Laden and his al Qaeda lieutenants."

CNN's Debra Krajnak, Henry Schuster, Nic Robertson, Jamie McIntyre and Mike Boettcher contributed to this report.

They found another magic bullet that will, like all the others, turn into a cluster bomb! When will we learn!

Al-Zharqawi Reincarnated

Redneck Farms, Kentucky, June 8 (IBS) : Mr. Nom Dorn, the owner of the Redneck farms, a funny looking fat, tall man and a recent convert to New Age Quantum Spirituality stated that this morning one of his black Angus cows, who has been a virgin all of her life and had an immaculate conception in the recent past, gave birth to a handsome, healthy, black Angus calf that he swears by Shiva – one of his new gods - is the reincarnation of Al- Zharqawi. At the time of birth, Mr. Nom Dorn was trying to help the little fella stand up on its feet by drying all the slimy goo covering its body. Hardly did the little fella stand up, right it went goring down Mr. Nom Dorn.

Mr. Dorn was so shocked he called his new guru on the West coast to report this bizarre behavior of the little handsome looking black Angus calf. His guru consulted his holy books and made a birth chart of the little fella by placing all the planets in 3 columns and 3 rows on a piece of paper. After much pondering, using all the accumulated wisdom of the South East, the guru called Mr Dorn back to confirm that, indeed, the little bull was the reincarnation of Al-Zharqawi who is now in the paradise “lying on a couch, having a menage a trois, while 69 other virgins wait impatiently in line!!” Exactly as the convert Nom Dorn had envisioned.

The baby bull, its holy mother cow, the bull owner and his new spiritual, long sought after guru, are all doing fine at the moment. You will be keep you posted as soon as new pictures and news arrive at the Spiritual Headquarters of this site and are OKed for release by the head honchos.

Bagwad...you are hilarious!! I haven't laughed that hard for a while. I hand it out...I'll take it! I just can't wait for the pictures....

norm

I've been in the office all day, and i've spent way too much time on here....so I'd better get out of here and make it a profitable day!!

Dear Dave,
Ref ur post # 77, Hope you and Patzi are thoroughly enjoying your big day. If she liked my blog so much then you two gotta post your percentage mix of Love and Knowledge on that blog....take it to 300! Btw, what's the all time record here? Is that in sight? lol.

And if you still live around Southern California, then let me tell you some classified piece of info: Ravi lives in your neighbourhood. His profile: Mid-early fifties, lives alone, not working (obviously), Indian origin (not red Indian but Indian). Weakness: love for poetry, translations. Hates: God & Humans. Loves: No one

If I ever decide to bump him off I might ask you to be my hitman. LOL.

Cheers!
Navin

Angie, this is the answer to your question.

Hypertension can if untreated cause many life threatening problems, such as, myocardial infarction (heart attack), left ventricular hypertrophy (enlargement of the left ventricle, or the chamber of heart from where the great artery aorta arises), Stroke or cerebro-vascular hemorrhage (bleeding in the brain), chronic renal failure (kidney failure).

Angie God bless you. I wrote the worst case scenario. It depends upon how high the blood pressure is and a whole lot of other factors.

Take care.

Poetry Corner - Poetry of Love

You put me on fire, my woman

O woman of my desires
You put me on fires of passion
To have you in my arms
And love you, love you always

Your face like two pomegranates halves
Your derriere like round water-melons
Your breasts like two loving doves
You put me on fire, my woman

My groins burn in wanting you
My arms desire in embracing you
My lips desire to be on your lips
Kissing you, Kissing you always

O meu amor de meus sonhos
O mi amor de mis sueños
O my love of my dreams
O mon amour de mes rêves
O il mio amore dei miei sogni
I love you, I love you

My thirst for you is never ending
The more I get you
The more I want you
I want to have you all in me
To be eternally one with you

I want you my darling
Yo le quiero mi querido
Eu quero meu encantador
Je vous veux mon cheri
La voglio il mio darling
Yes my darling, I want you
I desire you
Desire you always

~Ravi Kopra
http://ravikopra.blogspot.com/2006/04/you-put-me-on-fire-my-woman.html
(Edited)

Your poetry has inspired me to post a few of mine(blush.)

LOVE'S LAMP

"Will he still love me;
When the pretty innocence
and virginal desires of one so young;

fade;

Replacing all such, for the burning passions
of womanhood(a small sacrifice);
for the greatest gift (of true beauty)

as rare as love itself,

The maturity!

Will he turn from me one day,
and sail in troubled waters;
longing for the sweet innocence?

Promising to forsake all others,
will his eye's roam, his thoughts wander
and find the innocence in another,

who's maturing beauties are of only that;

she does not know him?

Will he see that, and be mine;

Forever?

I will take the chance!

Author: DD Sonnenburg - June 1998

WHEN SHE SAID, "YES!"

When she said, "yes!"

Did she really mean, yes?

Or, was her heart,
simply gasping for breath?

Did she once,
open her eyes to gaze in haste?

Nay, she savoured every moment,
drinking love's sweet kiss,
on the lips of her groom.

When she said, "yes!"

Did she really mean, yes?

Oh yes! Oh yes!

Author: DD Sonnenburg - January 27-1994

The poetry here, has quite inspired me, to post two of my own personal two favorites, to once again wish David a wonderful birthday today!

A poem for you David & Patzi(because you are One!)

A GIFT

For all the past has given me,
For all the glances at destiny,
For lessons learned through discipline
For dreams un-dreamed, oh I have learned;

For all I have done,
In all I have seen,
You my friends,
Are a Gift,
To me.

Author: DD Sonnenburg-January 11, 1998

Bappy Hirthday! A friend, is a Gift, we give to ourselves(wink.)

North

How contributors want to express themselves, here's my take on few -

1. Gotham Chopra - I am cool and I love talking and getting some fun and humour -- show me love

2. Kavitha Chabbar - I am the story teller, I am serious but I love having fun - show me what you got and tell me your story?

3. Mallika Chopra - I am good too.. I love my family and I am a Queen in my own right, I love having a conversation - show me attention

4. Shekar Kapur - I am the thinker.. listen to my thoughts, are they fascinating? Do you think the same way - I think and do you agree?

5. Suchitra Krishnamoorthi - I am creative - see my art - Can you create the way I do? - show me some sharing

5. Anouradha Bakshi - I am love - I just love Uppal so much that I can't keep it to myself - see how love can change - show me love and appreciation

6. Bandula Jayasekara - I am the patriot. I love my country - show me how much you do

7. Deepak Chopra - I am (read my posts, I just like you the way you are and you have a point)

Dear North,I wanted to thank you for all of your work to help celebrate David’s birthday. Since last week, when I risked the unthinkable, to “so slyly”:) slip the accurate date of David’s birth to you, I know how many hours you have spent creating beautiful artistic visions! It left you little time to do anything else. I truly appreciate all that you have given, of your time and talent.I particularly enjoyed your poem, The Gift. I truly consider my friends as precious gifts! And that certainly includes those I’ve “met” through the intentblog. I have gained so much through those who communicate here.
Thanks again, North, for adding so much color to David’s birthday. Love, Patzi

Dr. Geeta,

Thank you and God bless!

Love, Angie.

AWw Shucks Patzi... just happy to make you both smile! To me, Birthday's and Anniversary's are so special. I love to spoil people on them two occassion's; I hope I didn't embarass ya's both none, with all the fuss!!

When does the B.DAy party start tonight? Major rain off and on here in sheets, so may lose connection. Patzi, you mention in your EM, some parts of the USA are in black-out? Just thought I'd mention it, in case you and Dave can't make it ONLine tonight!

Just, don't you gobble that two-flavoured cake now, ya hear? (wink)

Love, North

Hi North, Just the area I live in had some type of a power outage today. We’re back on now. Knock on wood! :) Love, Patzi

Right on, Patzi!!

David, The Flannel Magi,

"Your painted smile hides you stiil

While you search yourself within

Yesterday and tomorrows found

Fused as one upon solid ground

As all around the milling crowd

Confuse themselves with raging sounds

And their loves forgetfullness abounds

So be thankful for your greasepaint clown

If loneliness wears the crown

Of the VETEREN COSMIC ROCKER"

.

The lights go down

The stage is set

The man in the wings breaks out in sweat

A backstage joker spiked his Coke

While the dressing room was full of smoke

A crowd of fools got him high

He's afraid he's gonna die

He's the apple of their eye

.

He steps into the remaining light

The crowd goes wild

He's outta sight

Arms held high in the sign of peace

His manager signed the one night lease

The house is full getting high

He's afraid he's gonna die

He's the apple of their eye

.....(He struts, he strolls)
.....(His love is rock'n roll)

He's the VETEREN COSMIC ROCKER!!!

The Moody Blues

"Long Distant Voyager" 1981

Happy Birhday, Day Tripper!

"Gemini Dream" coming up...Me2

Knights in White Satin,
Never reaching the end,
letters are written,
never meaning
to send...

Absolutely LOVE the Moody Blues-and seldom listen to them enough! thanks for the trip down memory lane Keith; I go back so far-I'm in front of me(Sir McCartney)

North

Dear Keith,
You are a gemini's dream come true,
and I can say that, because ....
Me2.

Love you,
~ Kate

Hi Hypocrite,
You really have made me smile, and
I hope I can meet you
some day
soon.
~ Kate

The Man of La Munchies,

"Long time no see

Short time for you and me

So fine, so good

We're on the road

Like you knew we would

.

First night, so long

A state of mind

What can go wrong

We're here, the time is right

To rock'n roll

Right through the night

.

Stage fright, candle light

You can't let go

Tonight's the night

Came back for you

Glad to see

That you came too

.

There's a place, a Gemini dream

There's no escaping from the love we have seen

So come with me, turn night to day

You're gonna wake up

You know you're gonna wake up in a Gemini dream

.

Turned round to see

Where we've been

And what we believe

In life, love

Take a chance

See it through

You'll be glad

That you came too

.

Living it

Believing it

Wanting it

Make it work out

Make it work

Make it work out

For each other tonight!

.

There's a place, a Gemini dream

There's no escaping from the love we have seen

So come with me, turn night to day

You're gonna wake up

You know you're gonna wake up in a Gemini dream"

Ditto! Gentleman and ladies.........Start your engines!!!

Cyber-Sweet Cakes,

"Sweet"

Dip into the sweets,

Frolic round the gamut,

Stir.

Bake in the fire!

Exhaust to completion.

Emote to release.

Yes, you may have seconds,

if there are any left.

Me2 2/14/2002

Where is THE MAN???

I must get to bed,

check ya in the morn, Dave

P.S. Kate, North, Sans, Geeta, Kristin, Heather, Patzi, Ruth, Craig, Ron, Norm, Hypocrite, no-name, Yogi-wan, Bhaggywan, Raviwan, Naraad, Navin, Marek, Scott, Amba-Steve, Mallica, Kavita, Deepak, Gotham, Pallavi, Rahul and more...

ALL say "HAPPY BIRTHDAY"!!! Tardo! Me-1-2

Hypocrite,

What, u trying to win over our girl Kate, or what? Now she longs to meet you. Well, i am feeling a little perturbed, i must admit, so am going to start packing my tent for the next outdoor sleep over. And am bringing lots and lots of goodies in my big bag! And some whiskey, too! Candles? Of course!

Whohahahahahahaha....!!!!!

Hypocrite: I've much enjoyed your many succinct and concise posts, yet always tinged with the humor that verifies the saying: "If you want to tell the truth about a thing, do it in a joke, with humor!"

You could say nothing that means more to me than being recognized, at least by some, as a "peacemaker!" Thank You--keep those most-excellent posts coming--your friend, and "fellow-hypocrite," Dave

Sincere wishes for somebody who makes people feel better!

Happy Birthday David.

Poetry of Rumi - From Lust to Love

Be fair, love is righteousness.
The fault lies
in your wickedness.

You call lust as love.
From lust to love,
the road is reach-less.

~Rumi
Translated by Ravi Kopra

*****

Original in Persian:

Ènsâf bedeh ke èshq nikôkâr ást,
Zân-ást khelal ke tab' bad kerdâr ást.

Tô shahvat-e khish râ laqab èshq nahai,
Áz shahvat tâ èshq rah besyâr ást.

~Rumi, Ruba’ie 175

Ènsâf bedeh = Be fair, be just
Ke = That, which
Èshq = Love
Nikôkâr =Righteous
Ást = Is
Zân-ást = Originally was "Áz Ân", means lies in
Khelal = Fault, disorder, flaw
Tab' = Nature, here means yourself
Bad Kerdâr = Wicked
Tô = You
Shahvat = Passion, lust
Khish = Your
Râ = Particle suffixed to a noun or pronoun as a sign of the definite
direct object.
Laqab nahi = You name, you call, claim
Áz = From
Tâ = Till
Rah besyâr ást = It is an expression for something far from reach.

The Tempestuous play moves into the open grounds.

NAVIBAN: “This is as strange a maze as ever men tread
And there is in this business more than nature
Was ever conduct of: some oracle
Must rectify my emotions.”

HYPOCRITON: “my maStar,
Do not infest your mind with beating on
The strangeness of this business; at the chosen leisure
Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you,
Which to you shall seem probable, of every
These happened accidents; till then, be cheerful
And think of each thing well.”

“ Come Heather, spirit:
Set the companions free;
Untie the spell.”

“How fares my gracious friend?
There are yet missing of your company
Some few odd lads that you remember not.”

KEITHIO: “Every man shift for all the rest, and
let no man take care for himself; for all is
but fortune. Cragio, bully-monster, cragio!”

SRACHIN: “If these be true spies which I wear in my head,
here's a goodly sight.”

OMORON: “Ha, ha!
What things are these, my friend?
Will money buy 'em?”

SRACHIN: “Very like; one of them
Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.”

HYPOCRITON: “Mark but the badges of these men, my maStar,
Then say if they be not true. This aging knower,
Your critic, and the other who is so strong
That could control the mood, make flows and reasons,
And deal with command with power but gives humble advice.
These three have robb'd you; and this demi-devil(?)
For he has noname--had plotted with them
To expose you. Two of these fellows you
Must know and grow and own; this thing of darkness!
Acknowledge mine.”

MAREKIOUS: “Nay, but to live
In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed,
Stew’d in corruption, honeying and making love
Over the nasty sty…”
KATANGELA: “O, how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day;
Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by a cloud takes all away.”

PS: eerors galore

the spell's not yet untied, and patience is required; the chick will do as bid, and then awaits her charge so omnes can exuent - and then, oh brave new world...

Poetry Corner - Hilly Billy Cretin Keith

Reith, the hilly-billy wife
of hilly-billy hubby cretin Keith
is so honest and so innocent.

The other day I called to find
how the hilly-billy Keith was.
"He hasn't been doing fine lately.

He took laxatives yesterday
and since this morning,
has been shitting up a storm constantly."
She said so innocently.

~Ogden Lash

Dear Diablo,
It's true, Hypocrite has made me laugh - and it has been said, I have a joyous laugh, which I will readily share with you.
Somehow I feel, the playwrights among us, shall tease us about our tryst. But, I don't care. You have captured my heart.
~ Kate

Kate,

Seems like our Hypo has too much free time on his hands....may a girlfiend in his life cause him to divert all that energy elsewhere, more productively? A playright...playboy?

..........................................................................................................................................................hahahahahahaha....

Marek and Omar: U2, from Me2-two, too! (with Keith--friends, all of us here, and then so many more "elsewhere")--Dave

Narad, That was pitiful! Party-pooper Crown goes

to you, you love ruining the moment.

Don't give the girls here the idea that I'm married,

I'm not! Twice divoriced if you need more to rail about.

.

Dave, Sorry our paths didn't cross, let us circle round...

.

Hypocrite, That was the message to wait for? If it

refered to something, I missed it. I'm no research

professional, I only know how to blog. Almost

always I speak from memory. If I read...and it's

important, I figure my brain will record it.

You are smarter than you let on...way to bait the trap!

Gotta work, Friday...yee-haw!

Luvs from the mole hill, Keith

Keith: Got a story I want to tell you, about the song, "Gemini Dream" (and then, one, an old album of theirs, called "Every Good Boy Deserves Favor).

Instead of writing it last night, I called Patzi, real late, and told her briefly about it--sooo.....it would be for both of you--and anyone else who wants to "start their engines," or ride along with us, in a 1962 two-seater ("she" can sit in the middle--"she" being the feminine spirit who brings balance), starting in the early spring of 1979. Talk to you later--Dave

good morning, this morning!

Rain, rain and more rain! Been having quite the rain-storm the past couple days! wow!

Stopped me from doing some downtown stuff; so off to do that now; and then over to Mom's to clean her place up; b/c it's her b/day on Sunday(73) so it will be all sparkly all weekend for visitors!

Now to go find my bright orange rain-coat, and umbrella(broken) for the lovely walky...

have a great day everyone!!

TGIF!!

North

The Tempestuous play moves into the open grounds.

NAVIN: “This is as strange a maze as ever men tread
And there is in this business more than nature
Was ever conduct of: some oracle
Must rectify my emotions.”

HYPOCRITE: “my maStar,
Do not infest your mind with beating on
The strangeness of this business; at the chosen leisure
Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you,
Which to you shall seem probable, of every
These happened accidents; till then, be cheerful
And think of each thing well.”

“ Come Heather, spirit:
Set the companions free;
Untie the spell.”

“How fares my gracious friend?
There are yet missing of your company
Some few odd lads that you remember not.”

KEITH: “Every man shift for all the rest, and
let no man take care for himself; for all is
but fortune. Cragio, bully-monster, cragio!”

SACHIN: “If these be true spies which I wear in my head,
here's a goodly sight.”

OMAR: “Ha, ha!
What things are these, my friend?
Will money buy 'em?”

SACHIN: “Very like; one of them
Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.”

HYPOCRITE: “Mark but the badges of these men, my maStar,
Then say if they be not true. This aging knower,
Your critic, and the other who is so strong
That could control the mood, make flows and reasons,
And deal with command with power but gives humble advice.
These three have robb'd you; and this demi-devil(?)
For he has noname--had plotted with them
To expose you. Two of these fellows you
Must know and grow and own; this thing of darkness!
Acknowledge mine.”

MAREK: “Nay, but to live
In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed,
Stew’d in corruption, honeying and making love
Over the nasty sty…”
KATE: “O, how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day;
Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by a cloud takes all away.”

PS: eerors galore

114. Posted by Hypocrite on June 8, 2006 10:16 PM

Poetry Corner - Poetry on Finding Women

Later he called back to say,
he wasn't married, he was free.
He's looking for young women here,
that woman is all hoary.

That's how it came to dawn upon everyone:
Anyone on the net that nods to him,
he thinks that has to be a woman.
How sicko, how sicko! Be wary.

A friend of those who act the same.
Anyone who posts a comment for them,
they want to know he's a man or a woman,
how old, how young? With photo anyone?

~ Ogden Lash

Poetry Corner - Truth Finally Prevails

Now he admits he is stupid,
A smart aleck he couldn’t be.
All his life has been a sham,
Truth came to him as a wham!

All that mix of wisdom and love,
Was but a front to hide stupidity.
Now if he lives to his words,
He’s free. He needs no spirituality.

Perhaps one day his gurus too will learn,
but they're clever enough to cast the spells.
Your brain is washed with new age thoughts
of love, peace and quantum consciousness -
All facade. All talks with lies fraught.

~Ogden Lash

Dear Narad,
Come and fall into Love with Me, and we will Arise in Love and we will be as One.
You do not need a guru, nor your masterful words, bring your eyes and your heart,
I will do the rest.
~ Kate

Dear anomynous eeuh..Narad Muni, whatever,

"The Highest Thought is always that thought which contains joy.
The Clearest Words are those words which contain truth.
The Grandest Feeling is that feeling which you call love."
Neale Donald Walsch

No more games boy
So what ya saying
Beat the beatness
Cos Donnie ain't playin
Witness the quickness
As I kick this
I'm on a mission
So listen as I dismiss
All this negativity by takin a stand
Cos I'm one bad brother from the bean town land
No sell out
So get the hell out
We do it our way
Who gives a damn about what critics say
Said we wouldn't last
Said our time will pass
In just a flash
But we're still kicking ass
The DONNIE
The WAHL to the BERG
That's funky
And now the games must cease
And to the non-believers I say peace
Stop playin those games
Boy
Huh-huh
Ahh Yeah
Uh huh Uh huh
Yeah
Whooah

Ain't it funky
We don't need your games
Uh-huh
We don't need your games
Word em up
We don't need your games
That's right
Stop playin those games
- New Kids On The Block

Love, Passion!
No more games is about positivity
And positivity is not about being soft
It's about being smart
Peace

Wormwood,

"Hell Ain't A Bad Place To Be" AC/DC

.

"I never read it in a book,

I never saw it on a show,

but I heard it in the alley

on a weird radio,

'If you wanna know a secret,

you got to promise not to tell.

If you wanna get to Heaven,

You got to raise a little Hell'!

I never thought it'd be so easy,

never thought it'd be so fun,

but I heard it in the alley,

now I got it on the run.

If you wanna see an angel,

you got to find it where it dwells.

If you wanna get to Heaven,

you got to raise a little Hell!"

OZARK MOUNTAIN DAREDEVILS

Dear Auntie North,

I thought you were going away for the summer to clear your head and deal with some pesonal matters. I was sad to learn that you were going but alas I am happy you are still here. Are you still going?

Angie.

Yea, people keep on fronting on the Beantown posse
But it´s time to step up to the stand
'Cause we ain´t goin´ out like that

back, huh! Stronger than ever
did you think we´d server? Never
we´re too clever
to be taken down, clown! by your ignorant state of mind
i ain´t blind but every time I look I find
you disslin´a mission that strictly be righteous
we got to fight this so now I thin I might just
take a stand ma, like never before
and I´m sure that we'll endure
so now it´s time to even the score
i hear you knocking me but you ain´t shocking me
'Cause jealousy is telling me
that you´re just jocking me
so keep on talking skee
with pride I´m walking
see because on anybody´s block is where I´m gonna be
Rock´n gee

Love, Passion!
Chorus
Games
Ooh ee oh
Ooh ooh
Games, games, games, games, games

Somebody said somebody worked too hard
Somebody gotta charms some hearts
Somebody said everbody´s gonna wait and see
What´s gonna be is gonne be

Think of what you say
Think of what you do
Think of what you try to put us through
We´re just singing our song

The things that make you go hmm
Things that make you go hmm
The things that make you go hmm, hmm, hmm
The things that make you go hmm
Things that make you go hmm
The things that make you go hmm.

Robbie Rob - break it down!

Seventeen and I was havin' a ball
Eleventh grade and "Joe" I knew it all
I fell in love for the very first time
With this girl she really blew my mind
Inner sense and whole lotta class
Style that could give you whiplash
We said hello and my heart be stopped
She was the world and I was on top
Time went by, She filled my universe
We made love, She said I was the first
My boy kept tellin' me. Yo, I don't know
I think your girl's been playing tic tac toe
I'll ask my girl I know she only loves me
Wasn't I the one who tool your viginity?
The look on her face read sorrow and gloom
She said "Yeah, Why do you guys always ask that?"

(Chorus)
Things that make you go hmm
Things that make you go hmm
It's the things that make you go hmm
(Repeat Chorus)

Love, Passion!
;)

Hi Angie.. ummm--->Auntie? Hmm, didn't know? Is this how you see me as dear? : )

Angie, to answer your question; I am always, going, technically? I cannot go forward, nor stand in time; therefor go I always, forward.

Looks like I've come 'round in circle, huh?

On the list of summer to-do's; most is done! I am not one to sit idle, as one can tell by my artwork capacity.

I have a box of groceries started well, and should have two by the time my son leaves for college in less than 2 months time. WE have gone through most of his box's and we have sorted out 50% of what needs sorting. Everything is logicly sorted into piles around the house; I'm rather getting tired of the whole shebang, of yardsaling and just may give it all away, money isn't everything; and my energy is near nil.

I have 6 weeks to teach my son laundering and ironing; not due to mal-interest on my part to teach him; but, b/c he put up a typical fight about it.

I have NO couch now, so my rocking chair(20 yrs old-got it for my 30th bday) is out of my kitchen, and into the living room. Things look different already! I liked it in the kitchend though; that's where I sat to bake cookies and read Patzi's book. lol

Empty nest is weighing heavily on my heart; how does a mother ever prepare? I studied it for bleep sake! lol I learned my income will still decline seven hundred dollars a month instantly!!

This, is winning the lottery, in reverse oui?

I see my glaucoma doc in August, maybe July but possibly go blind. How does one accept that without a contrite heart?

The losec stopped the stomach acid production, so the duodenal ulcer I have, the size of Manhatten gets a long over-do break; but which I blew-it, having one scoop of ice cream the other day.

Hmmm, what else was on my "going" list?

Oh yeah, Mom's place got all nice and dusted/cleaned by me, her most darling daughter; as it's her birthday on Sunday. She wants no dinner, no cake, no fuss; just show her the money!(gentle smiles.) Did this today, walked a few miles; hurt like hell, only forked out precious bucks for ONE cab, only spending one fin(blue-bill, or a fiver)

I bought her a bag I couldn't afford to buy; and two paris of diabetic socks which pretty much emptied my purse for the remainder of the too much month left over.

Then... my son's tux is on order for his PROM on the 23rd. No parents could be prouder than me and his Dad. We are extremely supportive of our son regardless of the 500 miles(almost) between us.

WE have to yet drive down there 1-2 times by end of July, so as to get them an apartment for August, so they can settle and get to know the city they'll be living in for 3 years. sigggggggghH

I chose to get rid of just about most of what I own, so I can be a gypsy if I decide to move. By gypsy, I mean; free of too many material possessions. Trust me, none are quality things; just long-held things. Dusty stuff!

WE have yet to go through lots of my son's clothes. I started a bedding bag; in the trunk we emptied for him, for his clothes, bedding. I might give him my antique trunk with 3 drawers. It's a theatrical trunk; so says the plate in it. It has a hidden trap-drawer(wink.) I keep my Christmas balls/glass in there. I'm giving most of that away to the boys.

I"m fighting the visions I'm getting of me alone come every holiday and Christmas, including my 50th this Aug.

So yes Angie; one could say my head is mighty full indeed, and my pockets empty; but, my hope is far from fleeting; and I take great comfort knowing the stars shine in the same sky for all of us(giggles) regardless of possible obscurities.

North

Dear Little Angie,

Its a game people play, my dear, to test the waters to see how others will react to them and eulogize them when they are gone! They get a real high on this, just like the gambler who cannot get casinos out of his thoughts, keeps on going to the casino and keeps losing and thinks he will win the big one some day and, magically, recoup all of his losses.

Love you, Ambrose!

Norm did it, Heather did it, North did it, Kaveetaa did it, Mieke did it, but, with the exception of Kaveetaa, the rest come right back. Skeptisch sort of did it, yesterday! Who will do it next? Kind of comical, won't you say?

How about you Angie? Your summer start yet, kids out of school soon? Mine is done next week, then exams. This is where all my practice of walking on egg-shells without breaking one; comes into play(giggles.)

Candidate Graduate - my son, young man

Candidate Proud Mom - me

Love, North

North, I'm an Aquarian born in the Age of Aquarius, The Beatles, The Twist, The Vietnam War, President Kennedy's assasination, Joe Namath, Muhammed Ali, M.L. King,Jr., Hula-hoop, The Archies, H.& R. Puffenstuff, Captain Kangaroo, John Wayne, Batman & Robin, 007, Billy Graham, Henry Kissinger, The Fabulous Fury Freak Bros., Dennis The Menace(wink), The Hardy Boys, The Bowery Boys, Yul Brenner, Rachael Welch(whoa!), Atom Bomb Tests, Neil Armstrong, Ohio State Massacre, 36 cents/gallon gas, Fast Food, Women's Rights, Men's wrongs, and Mash!

Sound familiar, Mi'Lady? There's more than a few Boomer's here, seein' I ask so many frickin' questions wondrin'who the hell people are or think they are around here!

Well, excuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuse Me2!

I know you, North, and a few other "real" people,
people I know are people...not machines spewing out words like random generated numbers! Sorry, no mug shot yet, it'll make a good bull's-eye for Wormwood! If, indeed, he's not too pre-programmed. I got a feeling...

Say hello and good luck to Lee!

You may like the peace and quiet for awhile,

I've HAD IT all week! Almost...

Me2Ignorameous.com

David, David, DaVid...davi...da...vid,

.....................................

Well?????????????????????????????????

What have you to say for yourself?

Do you need a lashing? Drop! And give Me2 twenty!

Back straight! Touch that nose! C'mon now, push!!!

Okay, take a drink, catch your breath...better?

Alright! Alright!

Now...

Seein's what you're puttin' me thru...

Seein's I didn't ask for it...

Seein's I couldn't have imagined it...

You got some answers to be a given' me!

I'll be patient and wait until you're thru with

your Gemini dream...but I can't wait, forever...can I?

Keith, The Leaper

Keith, you make me giggle. Just what I needed after doing all I done did! good timing as per your naturale... merci bon coup, mon frere : )

Not much else new, already spilled my guts; so that's empty..

tap tap tap

sigh

yawn

Then, my fave hard-rock album is >TURN IT LOUD< by the PinHeads comes blasting ON< they are from Vancouver-best female rock singer ever!! But, from a longggggggggG long time ago too-20 years? more? all gone now, is the group, but the rock lasts, foreva! lol

North

Dear friends,

We received the following exciting information from the International Campaign for Tibet -- please share it with your friends, family and associates:

On May 25, 2006, the United States Senate passed an extraordinary resolution (S 2784) to award the Congressional Gold Medal to His Holiness the Dalai Lama. The Senate Resolution, introduced by Senators Dianne Feinstein (D-CA) and Craig Thomas (R-WY), was passed with unanimous consent.

The Congressional Gold Medal is the highest _expression of national appreciation for exceptional service. The medal has been awarded to individuals and groups from all walks of life, including to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Coretta Scott King, Pope John Paul II, the Navajo Code Talkers, Rosa Parks, Frank Sinatra, and Elie Wiesel.

Now a similar bill (H.R. 4562) is before the House of Representatives being initiated by Congresswoman Rep Ileana Ros-Lehtinen and Congressman Tom Lantos. For the United States Congress to bestow this honor to His Holiness, at least two-thirds of House members (290 members) must co-sponsor the legislation in the House of Representatives.

We are therefore writing to you to encourage you to contact your representatives and ask them to co-sponsor H.R. 4562.

For those of you who are in Georgia, currently two of our Congress members, Rep Sanford D. Bishop, Jr. and Rep John Lewis, have become co-sponsors. The following Georgia representatives have yet to become co-sponsors: Jack Kingston (REP - District 1), James Marshall (DEM - District 3), Cynthia McKinney (DEM - District 4), Thomas Price (REP - District 6), John Linder (REP - District 7), Lynn Westmoreland (REP - District 8), Charles Norwood (REP - District 9), Nathan Deal (REP - District 10), John Gingrey (REP - District 11), John Barrow (DEM - District 12), and David Scott (DEM - District 13).

The International Campaign for Tibet website has resources for finding your state representative and his or her contact information, and for seeing whether he or she is yet supporting the resolution. They also have more information on the campaign.

Members of Congress attach much value to communications received from their constituents. Currently we have around 130 co-sponsors. Congress adjourns for its long summer recess in August and only briefly returns in the fall. There is not a lot of time to get all 290 Members as cosponsors. The following is how you can help. Please share this with friends and associates whom you feel may be interested.

HOW CAN YOU HELP?

Step 1: If you’ve not already done so, please contact your Congressional Representative and ask him/her to support H.R. 4562, cosponsored by Representatives Ros-Lehtinen and Lantos. Click here to find the details of your Congressional Representative: http://www.kintera.org/siteapps/advocacy/search.aspx?c=ahKMI5PIIpE&b=1467113.

Step 2: To ensure that we effectively channel our efforts, please join us in calling Representative offices each day during the month of June. For the details of who to call each day during, please refer to the attached document. Suggested (rough!) talking points are also attached, for your background information.

Step 3: Report back! Let International Campaign for Tibet know about the responses that you’re getting. Call or email ICT (202) 785 1515 or com@savetibet.org and give a read out of your calls. They can take appropriate follow up measures.

Learn more about this campaign by going to www.savetibet.org/goldmedal.

International Campaign for Tibet has asked that you let them know of any response or lack of response from your Representatives. They can then follow up with their offices in Washington DC.

Thank you, and best wishes,

Drepung Loseling Institute
http://www.drepung.org
770-938-9709

Keith: Sorry about that, almost all of my posts are being lost in the "error page" that comes up after I hit post--so am taking it as a message from the Universe to quiet down and just listen in!

When the resistance dissolves a bit--will catch you on the rebound--thinking about you my friend--Dave

Keith: My posts aren't going through--so....catch you on the rebound when the resistance clears. Dave

Craig,

Seen you around this week...on the Kabbala, O.T.#17, yada , yada...

No! Really, just been otherwise...elsewhere...

Always makin' me humble, so no "mask" or false humility springs forth from you!

"The Phenomenom of Man", T. D. Chardin...you never said, sounds like your type, even though he was written off as "religious".

I'm not sayin' I agree with him, Amba-Steve filled in a couple holes for us...maybe?

Hope your not waiting for everyone to "catch up",
to have a few moments of happiness yourself, especially with your girls.

Peace and Love at the Intersection...

Honk twice anyway! Brother Toad, Me2

Dave, I know you can't read this because it's on the "error" page...mine go thru, even when it says that, so I don't double post as often.

Seein's this is invisible, my fingers send the telepathic message via low, very low, frequency waves...check your sub-woofer for demonic sounding grumbles and growling, it just may be Me2

Ambrose, oh really! who are you? Where did you suddenly come from? Reasons for your comment were what? Was your point of view so important, as to post it?

Note though that you forgot to mention this part of their parting words: most say they are going for short OR long periods of time, and state a reason. Said Note is missing in your derogatory remarks(oh, but not surprised.)

I wonder whom Ambrose is pretending to be "today"? and what kind of game he's pushing us to play?

Just like Craig plants a seed North is Frost in Navin's blog; and everyone jumped in, tore North apart, and she was innocent!! Some of us all got a laugh out of that one, but I'd bet North didn't.

Divide and conquer methodology Ambrose? lol

Ambrose-only oneself can divide and conquer their own ego. Might I suggest, you get started at once?

I"d be interesting to learn why so few have to go to such great lengths, to bring down a sick old lady like North; who from my perspective has been nothing but kind, supportive and extremely giving of her gifts, talents and big heart?

Does it make you men feel powerful to do this to her? I feel sad for people like you Ambrose, who throw broken bones into pots of malicious stew already brewing with one, who has already been proven malicious innocent.

I think the experiments here at Intent that are so widly spoken of and praised, are digging now, in the dung-pile for spontaneous results.

How tragic, that so few people use their power, to kill an already walking-dead, diseased and impoverished old woman?

How low, can you people really go I wonder; much more than killing an old woman?

Unbelievable! And, you call yourselve's human beings? This is patheticism, in true form!

CT

Dear fellow bloggers and friends, I am supposed to talk to a church group, for 30 minutes, on HINDUISM next week. I would love your input, criticism, of my speech. Thank you in anticipation.

Hinduism predates recorded history. It is too old.

Hinduism has no known founder.

Hinduism has many many scriptures, such as, the 4 VEDAS, Upanishads are part of the VEDAS, the EPICS, BHAGAVADGITA is part of MAHABHARATA, the six systems of thought, NYAYA, VAISESHIKA, SAMKHYA, YOGASUTRAS OF PATANJALI, PURVA MIMAMSA, and UTTARA MIMAMSA, SMRITIS, Tantras, PURANAS, etc.

There are 4 main sects. Shaivism, Shaktism, Vaishnavism, Liberalism.

Adherents are 800 million if you do not include Buddhists, Jains, and Sikhs. If you include these there are more than 1 billion adherents.

Friends do you think we should include Jains, Buddhists, and Sikhs or not?? ARe JAINS, BUDDHISTS, and SIKHS HINDUS??

The goal is to attain MOKSHA or liberation.

There are 4 different paths as we discussed in Navin's blog. Bhakti(Love and Devotion), Gyan(Knowledge), Raja( Yoga, and Meditation), Karma(Selfless service).

Caste system consists of BRAHMANAS,(Priests), KSHATRIYAS,(Warriors), VAISHYAS,(Merchants), SHUDRAS(Farmers and Laborers).

There are four stages of life. BRAHMACHARYA(STUDENT), GRUHASTHA(HOUSEHOLDER), VANAPRASTHYA(FOREST DWELLING), and SANYASA(RENUNCIATION).

SYMBOLS: OM

BELIEFS: Dharma, Karma, Reincarnation, etc

Hindu philosophers such as Shankara, Ramanuja, Madhwa, Chaitanya, Ramakrishna, Vivekananda.

I am thinking of the above as main points to enlarge upon. What do you learned friends think of this?? Should I add something, take away something else?? Should I just talk about Karma, Dharma, and reincarnation?? Should I discuss why Hindus WORSHIP IDOLS??

Please comment. Thank you in anticipation. God bless.

Hi Geeta,
Since you only have 30 minutes if I were you I would keep it simple and speak about 1) what interests and inspires you most about Hinduism and 2) what you think may be of most interest to the group you are speaking to. What questions, misconceptions or curiousity might they have about Hinduism?

Also, what is your goal in speaking? What is the main message or messages that you want to convey? If you decide to give a lot of information, historic details, etc., then you may want to include a handout with some information that they can refer back to.

Whatever you say, I'm sure that your presence will speak louder than words and they will love it. Have fun!

Love, Kristin

Dear Geeta

I wish I could be in your audience. This is a lot to cover in 30 minutes, but to restrict to only Karma, Dharma and reincarnation would be to cover aspects of Hinduism that are already partially known to your audience, at least in name. So introducing history, scriptures, sects, and adherents makes it more interesting, from my personal point of view, than the more restricted list of subjects. Telling your audience how Karma, Dharma and reincarnation fit into the broader aspects of Hinduism would give the audience a smooth bridge into the newer material. Will your 30 minutes include questions and answers or is it the presentation portion alone? I would love to be present at an expanded version of your address, where you cover as much as possible.

Best of luck to you, Geeta -- I know you'll do a smashing job!

love, Heather

...for me,
Hinduism is a way of life that has embraced "truth" expressing itself with no boarders...flowing through the rivers of eternity.

Best wishes to you Geeta.

In Spirit,
Cinda

Any soccer fans out there?

Soccer fans are everywhere. Pathetic display by England today. Impressive performances by Ivory coast and Argentina. I hope Ivory Coast makes it to the next rounnd.

Cinda,

How about Trinidad & Tobago v Sweden?

They got an unlikely tie and their first ever World Cup point! Isn't that great! Looks good on them, won't you say? Cindi, if memory serves me correct, aren't you from Trinidad & Tobago?

West Indies v India, 2nd Test, St Lucia, 1st day

India ride on Sehwag and Dravid

The Bulletin by Anand Vasu

June 10, 2006

India 361 for 4 (Sehwag 180, Dravid 95*, Collins 4-75) v West Indies
Scorecard and ball-by-ball details
How they were out

Virender Sehwag came to the party with an insatiable appetite for runs © Getty Images

Brian Lara signalled a thumbs-up when he heard the news that Trinidad & Tobago had held Sweden to a goalless draw in the football World Cup. When the first session of play was on, he might well have felt that West Indies could count themselves lucky if they could salvage a draw in this game as Virender Sehwag blazed away magnificently, laying to rest any fears there might have been about the pitch. His trail-blazing innings ensured India was ahead of the game at all times, irrespective of what happened at the other end, as India took the first day on points, ending on 361 for 4.

The pitch was a cause for concern early on - grass as even as a bad haircut on a bald man, possible moisture under the surface, a suggestion of softness. Sehwag seemed to listen to all this guff early on. The Indian 50 took as long as 10 overs. But it seemed like suddenly Sehwag realised that there was no Fidel Edwards gunning for his rib-cage, much less a Marshall-Garner-Holding-Roberts attack aiming to rip his heart out.

The stage was set for a beauty and Sehwag came to the party with an insatiable appetite for fun. He began by crunching the odd drive through cover-point and soon realised he could flick aerially through midwicket without risk. Soon Sehwag's momentum became India's as he picked off boundaries at ease.

In some ways, it was one over that gave Sehwag the belief that his approach would win the day. He had learnt some valuable lessons from the one-dayers, and some would suggest from Rudi Webster, the sports psychologist, too as he watched the ball carefully, played late, yet hit deliciously hard. Sehwag realised soon enough that this track was best suited to his brand of cricket, and that Dwayne Bravo - a player who had not held back the urge to have a word or seventeen during the ODIs - was the bowler best suited for taking on.

Wasim Jaffer's single gave Sehwag the chance to hit the cover off the ball for an on-the-rise six over long-off and reach 50. A cut to cover-point, a four through midwicket, a beastly bludgeon over midwicket, and suddenly Sehwag had taken 21 off a Bravo over.

What began as a schoolboy's enthusiasm for clobbering the rowdy bowler gave way to the conquest of something larger. Only briefly, as the lunch interval approached, did Sehwag comprehend that he was in line to become the first Indian, and only the fifth in history, to score a hundred before lunch on the first day of a Test. In fact, it was not till the last over that it became obvious he was even thinking on those lines.

Given the strike by Jaffer for the last ball before the break Sehwag charged and slammed, needing two to get to a remarkably pacy hundred. He scrambled one, braved the run out, missed the possible overthrow, and then disappointedly crashed bat on pad for failing to enter the record books. His 99 off 75 balls, however, had taken India to 140 for no loss at lunch.

On a day that clearly belonged to India Pedro Collins was the only West Indies bowler to redeem himself © Getty Images

When they came out to bat after lunch, with records no longer a distraction, all focus was on building the innings. Fittingly Sehwag coasted to his 12th Test hundred. But soon after the forgotten man, Jaffer, was dismissed. All along he had been the potatoes to Sehwag's meat, reaching 43 in a substantial partnership of 159 for the first wicket. Jaffer had done his job admirably, following up his 212 in the first Test with a rock-solid 43, and it was against the run of play that he followed a Pedro Collins delivery slanting away from him and edged to slip. VVS Laxman slashed at a similarly-angled Collins delivery just two runs later and suddenly the forecast for a run-fest with the occasional wicket seemed misplaced.

Rahul Dravid joined Sehwag and almost inconspicuously the pace of play changed. Suddenly, in the presence of his captain, Sehwag seemed to think less about the blistering innings and more about a substantial partnership. Although he still tucked in to any loose offering, Sehwag ensured that he did not sell his wicket cheaply as Dravid settled into his groove. With no fanfare the pair piled on the runs - 139 for the third wicket - before Sehwag was caught unawares by a short one from, who else, Collins, and bobbed a catch back. Sehwag's 180 had come off only 190 balls, with as many as 20 fours and three sixes.

Yuvraj Singh's latest chance to earn himself a permanent place in the Test side went abegging as he spent a patient 16 balls scoring two before he played all over a Collins delivery. In all this, almost unnoticed Dravid had spent 158 balls at the crease. He had not gone out of his way to hit the ball, he never tried to match Sehwag, but at the end of the day he was well set, on 95, with twelve boundaries, several of which he had fetched from well outside off and persuaded to the boundary with a surgeon's care. India ended the day on 361 for 4 from 85 overs. Fans of Sehwag will be disappointed, but fans of Indian cricket will appreciate how rarely the team manages such a score in the first innings of a Test, let alone the first day, outside the subcontinent.

Geeta Darling, Wishing you good fortune in your endeavor to teach folks up-front and personal like!

I would say, give them a bite of this and that, whet their appetite, maybe they'll ask for an encore...and dessert!

Good seein' ya again! Luvs, Keith

Keith, thank you for your suggestion and well wishes. Good talking to you too. God bless.

Cinda, thank you and God bless.

Heather, I wish your presense in the audience too. It is good to know a kindred spirit is in the same room. I am fortunate to have you as a cyber friend. I am not sure about the time allotted for questions and answers yet.

Heather, I was at a friend's, and she introduced me to her brother in law, we started talking, he does TRANSCENDENTAL MEDITATION, and he is going to give me a lesson tomorrow. I am so happy tonight in anticipation. I have always wanted to learn TM. Do you do TM??

Kristin, thanks a bunch for great suggestions. I should tailor my speech to suit their interests. My goal is to be informative, truthful and nice. I will give hand outs. God bless you and the family.

David of Uptown,

Has anyone else in your past taken your suggestion to read this?

What did you think I might get out of it, seein'the position and circumstances I currently occupy?

Awhile back, in U2 land, you mentioned that you still hadn't found what you are looking for. Isn't one on the way? Are you soon going to meet someone you might think is the key?

I figure you won't tell me...asking doesn't always do the trick...why not?

I know not your past or your future.

I know not the blue-white flame.

I know not frame or picture,

I know not His name.

What is mine?

Zardos

Ambrose2: I much liked your comments about North, and why many feel the vicious urge to attack her with such velocity as we've seen here--do we wonder why we have a world raging with such bitter and relentless wars--and for the reasons we do?

I would only add two things: North is hardly old, and although she herself may see herself as plagued with sickness, I do not see her that way--I see her only as the gifted artist she is, the incredibly loving mother, and woman, that she is; and I see that even the most vicious crushing of our collective ego's, as well as her own--at times!!!---are no match for the limitless power that is the enduring force of love that is Spirit--the "Spirit of the North Winds."

Were I to wear one, my hats off to you, Ambrose2--Dave

Geeta: Giving a speech about Hinduism, are we, our "Bhagava-Geeta" Darling! May I join in, from an out-of-apartment viewing???

I am soooo.....proud of you girl, from that shy and most-humble voice that first stepped forward here last summer, squeaking a few lines like a sweet little mouse who wasn't looking for a bit of cheese laying somewhere, but one who just wanted to come out and play with the other creatures of "Father's and Mother's" house--and how your voice has transformed into the mightiest presence of love--that of the most-majestic of creatures--with the resonating "purr" of the Grand Dame herself--a Rajputana Tigress, watching over her many human cubs!

Indeed, you have taken on the task of needing more than just the time for an introductory speech on a religion sooooo......broad, and sooooo......deep, that it's original roots continue to baffle the greatest minds (and hearts!) of our day--it appears to me that those behind the ongoing efforts to preserve, and again bring forward, this supreme history, have chosen well in developing you as yet another voice, for such a daunting task!

It would be great if you could touch briefly on how the possible origins of Buddhism, Jainism, and Sikhism all have interwoven root-systems and deep connections with Hinduism.

Really Geeta, you already have a vast body of understanding impreganted in your conscious mind, so when you feel nervous about stepping even in front of just two others, let alone more, regarding these subjects, let the spirit of your happy intentions take over as you begin, and any stumbling. or halting and tenuous steps, will soon give way to that Spirit that is you--the One that is arranging for all this to happen, anyway--and in any way it can come forward through you--it is not by accident that you would be doing this--it has "It's own schedule"

Much Love to you, and your audience(s)!--Dave

INDENTBLOG

Indent is the Intent

Of the community

Where

Honesty is a weakness

Friendship a spy that attacks

Love is just another facet

Knowledge hushed up

Emotions repulsed

In the deluge of comments

Inane urge to attack rages….

This is a society where

Values are upside down

Here

Destroy even the intention

To be Just

Hypocrite: By now, you know I am certainly a fan of your posts, and your poems!

I wonder, however, if our twisted urges to impose inane comments on each other here, will ever muster a wind that can, in the slightest, indent the ever-pliable and maleable fabric that holds "Truth to be True, "Honesty to be Honest," and "Friendship and Love" to weather any spy-like-assault on the eternal nature of these three--which of course, in Truth, are one-and-the-same! Dave

Dear Geeta

I do Zen meditation. I've never practiced TM. I find it hard to make space in my life for meditation, yet when I meditate I end up having more time and energy of my own. I'm still not far enough alomg on the path to understanding with all my spirit that limitation is a good and healthy thing.

Dear Hypocrite

Thanks for your various latest, your insight and valiant spirit.

love, Heather

Zardos: Fresh horses and ale for the men--and then onward, back in time, to another cyber-place, where I may taunt you accordingly.....where the speedometer seems to be bouncing more wildly, as we approach 370 mph--like the "Green Monster," on the Bonneville Salt- Flats of the 1960's--Dave

Geeta, all the best on your presentation!! How very exciting! I tried TM in the 70's and I loved it. I got so good at it, my breathing so shallow and controlled, It would be hard to snap me out of the depth of meditation. Then, I had an OBE, which scared the heck out of me, and that was the last time I tried it. lol

hmm, I too echo David's sentiments with those of Ambrose2!! thanks guys, that was nice of you to state the obvious. Although David, considering our temps here in north country have dropped to October settings this past weekend, arthritic aches remind me, I am indeed, "old" in my skin.(wink)

Today is my beautiful Mom's 73rd B.day; and I have the pleasure of having her come to my house for lunch, for a piece of orange starlight bundt cake I made yesterday for her(homemade); first time for her coming here, in 2 years, because of all the stairs. She wants so very much, to see my designs and book-covers I'd made, as printing doesn't do them justice(wink)I guess my son's been bragging to her about them! lol

So, the house was cleaned up, baking done yesterday! She just wants sandwich's; so am making that, with some fresh, garden salad. Why is it though; that when you have a guest coming over; suddenly dust-bunnies from hell pop out of corners, and from behind bookshelves?(giggles)

Son is at work until late afternoon. Yesterday also got at least 5 more box's packed! whew! Never realized my son had so much stuff!! He and his buddy; split and ordered a pizza for dinner yesterday, wanting to treat me; so sweet of them.

Later, I will make Hawaiian meatball salad for our dinner, it's yummy stuff!

North

Kate & Diablo, It is my pleasure to know you both.

Keith, In reference to your post #120, I missed to respond.

That wasn’t any message I said about. The message would be answers for all the questions you asked about me. I wonder who nan d is…any ideas? I am not smart or half as knowledgeable as you credit me. As usual I admire you.

Dave, thank you for the appreciation. It is refreshing to hear your thoughts which made me see the brighter side to the pessimistic scenario I painted about the community and the lack of trust.

Heather, it is my pleasure and I am ever thankful to you for reinvigorating my spirit.

North, I hope you are doing great! I always admire your artistic skills and wish you well at all those tasks.

HI Hyp, thanks for your compliments! Much is done, much yet to do. My son's exams start Thursday; the "grind" is on full-force. He's at work right now, and I am resting as much as I can this cold, October-cold June 11th morning; so I can have lots of energy to entertain my Mom later, when she visits for lunch, for cake, and to view my artwork. She hasn't been here in 2 years(day I moved in here) because of the too many stairs! So, I am quite excited to show my Mom, my artwork. I print some to show her, but it just doesn't do them justice from my printer's results.

I wish you all a great day!

North

Mexico 3....Iran 1. Looks like Mexico's gonna lick Iran.

Hypo, I like you too.

Cheers!
Navin

Poetry Corner - Poetry Inspired by Intentbloggers

How to save your face (or rather ass)

When something back fires
When you made a fool of yourself
When your hypocrisy shines through you
When you are caught lying in your teeth
When you can’t hide behind masks
When your friends shun you

You grin stupidly
And say it was all a joke.
It was all a spoof.
And if you who do not see it,
You are a nincompoop
With no sense of humor.

But how many times
Can one let it pass?
Ask the nincompoop himself.
He is so bone head,
He never gets it.

~Ravi Kopra

My friend Ravi,
You need to post this in my blog! Pls don't allow your attention to be diverted by the Zappy Kabala post and Rahul's Kashmir post. LOL Don't fight with them. Fight with me, bro....we need to take it to 400! LOL

Cheers!
Navin

West Indies on the Ropes!

West Indies v India, 2nd Test, St Lucia, 2nd day

Windies wobble as India amass 588

The Bulletin by Anand Vasu

June 11, 2006

India 588 for 8 dec (Sehwag 180, Kaif 148*, Dravid 146) lead West Indies 65 for 3 by 523 runs
Scorecard and ball-by-ball details
How they were out:

Rahul Dravid's 23rd Test hundred was a class affair © Getty Images.

A solid, if not spectacular, batting performance including a 23rd Test century for Rahul Dravid and a maiden Test century for Mohammad Kaif, followed by an incisive opening spell from Munaf Patel where he picked up two wickets in two balls saw India take a firm grasp on the second Test against West Indies at the Beausejour Stadium in Gros Islet, St. Lucia.

Anil Kumble, never one to be left out, claimed the prize wicket of Brian Lara and West Indies were tottering at 65 for 3 in reply to India's mammoth 588 for 8 declared.

The pitch, which had played so true when India batted that the ball barely beat bat, began to do just a bit, with the ball gripping the surface just enough to afford the faster men cut and the spinner turn when India took the ball.

It certainly helped that Patel was dead on target, probing away on a line attacking the stumps, seam slanting towards leg slip, the length drawing batsmen forward and yet not affording the drive.

Daren Ganga was the first to suffer, trapped in front by a ball that nipped back a touch. Ramnaresh Sarwan barely had time to mark his guard when an identical delivery sent him packing, for a golden duck.

Lara was well up to negotiating the hat-trick ball, and soon showed the difference in class with a beautifully struck square-drive. However, Dravid, occasionally late in bringing on the spinner, got his timing spot on, throwing the ball to Kumble in the 13th over.

It did not take long for Kumble to get a ball to pitch on off and straighten, and Lara's gentle pretence of a defensive shot did not fool Asad Rauf, the umpire, as the ball that was destined for middle- and leg-stump was obstructed by pad. At 55 for 3 the follow-on target of 388 suddenly looked far away.

Chris Gayle and Shivnarine Chanderpaul - the pair that had put the skids on India in the first Test - came together, and despite more than one close shout for lbw, managed to add ten more runs and take West Indies to stumps without further damage. Even on good batting surfaces, teams can come under serious pressure when faced with a daunting total.

India, to their credit, made the most of the fine start that Virender Sehwag had given them, and ensured that a mountain of runs confronted the West Indies when it was their turn to bat.

Resuming play today morning Dravid easily knocked off the five runs he needed to reach his hundred, and then in the company of Kaif, built a partnership that made West Indian shoulders droop.

Lara did his best to set defensive off-side fields, but without either serious pace or effervescent turn, could not control the flow of runs with two patient batsmen at the crease. Dravid ensured that no loose ball was spared, driving magnificently through cover, and Kaif too played punchy drives that were placed well enough to beat the infield and find the boundary.

As many as 124 runs came in the first session, and the firm of Dravid and Kaif had put together an invaluable 179 before they were separated. Just two balls before lunch Dravid chased a desperately wide, short delivery from Ramnaresh Sarwan, and spooned a catch to point.

Dravid had made a flawless 146 till he played that forgettable shot to a ball that even Sarwan would not care to remember.

Kaif first crossed his highest Test score - 91 versus England - to reach three figures and finally ended on a first-class high of 148 not out.

His was an innings in two parts - reasonably fluent and purposeful till he reached his century, and when he had Dravid for company, and then somewhat tentative and dour for the remainder.

Mahendra Dhoni failed to fire, slapping Ian Bradshaw to point, and all of a sudden India had lost the momentum. Irfan Pathan went soon after, hitting Gayle to Ganga at point, and it was only a matter of time before India declared.

When Kumble dragged Jerome Taylor back to his stumps, with the score on 588, Dravid waved Kaif back in, declaring the innings closed. India wanted a crack at the West Indies batsmen who had been made to sweat out close to 150 overs in the field, and perhaps pick up a few quick wickets.

They did just that, and will enjoy a good night's rest before returning to rejoin battle on the third day. West Indies, three down and still needing 323 to avoid the follow-on, may not sleep so easy.

North, I have a gut feeling that if you started TM again your health will improve. Let us ask David's opinion on that. David, Sir, would you please put on your psychic hat and tell North if she should start TM again??

North, thanks and God bless.

Heather, I liked TM a whole lot more than Sahaj Marg or Reiki meditations. How do you do the ZEN meditation?? God bless you always.

David, thank you gallant Sir for all the complements and encouragement. I would love to have you in my audience. I would like to remain shy and humble, till my last breath on Earth. I hope I stay a little mouse rather than a Rajaput Tigress. As long as Bhagwan Yogiraj is around he will keep me feeling like a dimwit, nitwit, dullard, pudden head. That should help me to stay humble.

David, I also liked your comment on Suchitra's blogpost. Thank you again. God bless you always.

Dear AJ,
You have a good memory, yes, I am from T&T. This year I decided to watch the games, it's the first time World Cup Soccer is on since my Dad passed on. In a way, I feel as though I'm watching for him...he not only loved soccer, he played it too, back in Trinidad and a skilled player at that!
It is the first time Trinidad and Tobago has made it to World Cup Soccer. It's not just that the score was a draw, having a last minute change of goalies, and 10 players in most of the last half of the match!!! Even the people of Trinidad and Tobago are stunned! A team with "Spirit" no doubt. Yes indeed, they played a great game!!!

Trini flags are flying around Toronto..."sweet sweet T&T, as the song goes.
That match was sooooo good to feel, it was like winning the World Cup just in that one game!

Cinda

Dear Geeta

Zen meditation is very simple, consisting of sitting or walking in a simple way, with awareness of breath, and awareness of mind, without an attempt to control the mind -- just letting thoughts come in and then go out again -- accepting the mind as it is, not resisting it -- and this allows the mind to eventually empty.

The most common sitting posture is the lotus. Cushions are used (zafus) by most people for the sitting meditation. The sitting attitude is done in such a way as to balance the body and keep the energy and circulation free. If done right, one will not get bored or restless. Instead, there is a gradually increasing awareness of oneself as part of the vastness of the universe, and a sense of fitting into the structure and patterns and rhythm of it all.

Some monastaries also practice working meditation, which is about doing chores in a simple and mindful way. If one does a full day of meditation in a monastary, there will be much sitting meditation (zazen), with several periods of walking meditation, and perhaps one or two periods of working meditation. The day is spent mutely, and humbly.

There is much little emphasis any particular techniques, such as using mantras, etc. -- except the sitting posture is important, to allow the body to stay upright and alert, yet relaxed, and the breathing as that helps calm the body and mind. Zen means freedom.

In some monastaries, while doing zazen one can request a whack on one's shoulder from a wooden paddle wielded by a monk. The purpose of the whack is to provide a shock, to move the mind away from patterned or shallow thoughts, to open up and become empty. (I've tried this, and it is extremely effective.)

This is just the meditation practice. Zen Buddhism itself is more profound and comprehensive than the meditation alone, and I don't know much about it, except that meditation is central to good Zen Buddhist practice.

When I practice meditation, I feel untied from the world yet completely part of it. It's rather like floating in the ocean. When I was younger, meditation sessions took me into many of my resistances and fears and out the other side again. These days, I often get visions when I meditate. I also often pray when I meditate. To confront issues, to have visions or to pray are not the objects of meditation. These are just stones on the path to the empty mind. Confronting issues is like facing reality head-on, one accepts and deals with it, and moves on. Visions and prayers are part of the patterns of the universe. When any of these comes into my meditation, I accept them when they come, or when they awaken, and then I'm with them for a while, and then, because I'm not holding on to them, they go and I'm empty again. And that's what's supposed to happen.

Also, these days when I plan to pray, I usually end up meditating. Prayer and meditation seem to be two sides of a single coin for me.

Meditation always makes me physically and emotionally more resilient, and places me on a very spiritual-feeling plane of existence. These effects last for long periods of time, long beyond each meditation session.

love, Heather

Dear Geeta

I found this outstanding write-up of how to create a good sitting posture and prepare the body for meditating. If you prepare the right way, you'll flow into good meditation naturally. I'd forgotten about some of the recommendations here, like touching the tip of one's tongue to one's palate -- I just do them naturally now -- I'd forgotten that I'd ever had to learn these small but important things:

http://www.intrex.net/chzg/posture.htm

love, Heather

Dear Geeta, when I am designing; I am entranced somewhat. I feel a surge of power, I feel in no other "way." I feel sometimes like the "mad painter" who would shun the world and paint for days and weeks with barely a break in stroke, or stride of time.

Yes, perhaps when my son is in college soon, and I am with myself; I can use the resourceful free time, to get back into it. However, I doubt I can achieve the Lotus Position without much, much practice!(wink)

Thankyou Geeta; and may your humble self remain always,unbridled.

Love, North

David, How did it go this morning with Stan

at Starbucks? Did he let you "touch" his hand?

Can't wait to hear his view on you...don't you dare

pay him off! We want TRUTH, Dave, and you know

what that means!

"Oh, the coffee was delightful"...

none of that crap! Straight up!

No cream and sugar-coated, frosted lattes

served with bhaklava...uh,uh!

We will find out what your made of, if I have to

come out there and hunt you down myself!

I have a nose for mischief,

and mis(fit)chiefs.

Ranger Keith

David, do say hello to Stan for us all, when you see him! I've always admired his capacity to lavish praises about his wife and family. Nothing more important in the whole world, than love and family.

I hope his reunion goes very wonderfully; and your meeting with Stan a memorable one!

North

Heather, thank you dear friend. May you always have blessings of the almighty. Zen sounds so divine!!

North, your being engrossed in your work may be a form of Zen meditation. I usually respect my gut feelings, because I feel my gut has no self doubt as my intellect, or mind!! As far as achieving the lotus position, start with butterflies, do 108 per day, and in a few months you can get into lotus. God bless you North.

David, there is something wrong with me. When I switch on the light the bulb burns. When I go to open the car door I get a shock. Sir Dave, what is wrong with me?? Do you know of any cure?? Thank you for being a wise man and a friend. Please say high to STAN from me too. God bless.

Geeta, my love! I hope u r fine. what's happening? what r these accidents about? is something distracting u, dear? pls relax. u r precious. take care,love.

well Geeta, i remember Navin has posted somewhere that there r to be some accidents generally, some problems with some stars or planets & their positions. He said something on similar lines, I cudnt understand well! dimwit me! :) u pls take care, u light of IB...

Keith:
ur post #6 on Joanie's post is so so good! I thought u were reading my mind...when u talk about IB becoming a habit, finding intent and striking conversations here. :)

u r a very nice person Keith. warm hearted & blessed. :) May u be blessed with all the joys on earth! :)
Love u keith!

Poetry Corner - Poetry Inspired by Intentbloggers

O witch hunter,
There’re no witches around.
You’re searching your own witch
Bringing you down.

You’re too dumb to see it,
Even if someone opens your skull
And shows it in glaring lights.
You’re a blind dimwit to see it.

~ Ravi Kopra

IF SOME ONE SPEAKS ILL OF YOU

If anyone speaks ill of you,

Praise him always.

If anyone injures you,

Serve him nicely.

If anyone persecutes you,

Help him in all possible ways.

You will attain immense strength.

You will control anger and pride.

You will enjoy peace, poise and serenity.

You will become divine

(Swami Vivekananda)

Quotes on Forgiveness

Forgiveness
Is the mightiest sword
Forgiveness of those you fear
Is the highest reward
When they bruise you with words
When they make you feel small
When it's hardest to take
You must do nothing at all...

- Jane Eyre.

~

What power has love but forgiveness?

- William Carlos Williams.

~

Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future.

- Paul Boese.

~

Forgiveness is the answer to the child's dream of a miracle by which what is broken is made whole again, what is soiled is made clean again.

-- Dag Hammarskjold.

~

The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.

-Mahatma Gandhi

~

"We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love."

Martin Luther King, Jr.

~

"Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much."

Oscar Wilde

~

If we really want to love
we must learn how to forgive

- Mother Teresa

~~~

If I cannot forgive myself
For all the blunders
That I have made
Over the years,
Then how can I proceed?
How can I ever
Dream perfection-dreams?
Move, I must, forward.
Fly, I must, upward.
Dive, I must, inward,
To be once more
What I truly am
And shall forever remain.

- Sri Chinmoy

~

"Father, forgive them;
for they know not what they do. "

Luke 23

Dear UG

Even more gracious than forgiveness is love, which cleanses anger from the soul, and gives all due respect to others' lives and choices. Forgiveness implies a judgement and sentence proununced. Love judges not, and cannnot sentence, but simply loves. And thus love retires any need to forgive.

Thank you for sharing your perceptive and resonant thoughts with us, here and elsewhere.

love, Heather

Quotes on Love

"Love is not a thing to understand.
Love is not a thing to feel.
Love is not a thing to give and receive.
Love is a thing only to become
And eternally be. "

- Sri Chinmoy (1)

~

Love is an endless mystery,
for it has nothing else to explain it.

Love's gift cannot be given,
it waits to be accepted.

Rabindranath Tagore (2)

~

Love is the scent with the lotus born.
It is the silent choirs of petals
Singing the winter’s harmony of uniform beauty.
Love is the song of the soul, singing to God.
It is the balanced rhythmic dance of planets - sun and moon lit

- Paramahansa Yoganada (3)

~

" Love knows no answer for it does not question."

-silent lotus

~

" Your fortune is misfortune if it is not Love."

- silent lotus

~

The madness of love
Is a rich fief;
Anyone who recognized this
Would not ask Love for anything else:
It can unite Opposites
And reverse the paradox.
I am declaring the truth about this:
The madness of love makes bitter what was sweet,
It makes the stranger a kinsman,
And it makes the smallest the most proud.

- Hadewijch of Antwerp

~

Though I am never loath to grant salvation,
I hesitate indeed to grant pure love.
Whoever wins pure love surpasses all;
He is adored by men;
He triumphs over the three worlds..

The last one was by Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsha

Dear UG

This snippet of your quote 2 by Rabindranath Tagore is an admonition to me, as it's this that I fail at most often in love:

"Love's gift cannot be given,
it waits to be accepted."

Thank God that:

"Love is an endless mystery,
for it has nothing else to explain it."

Love's endless mystery always teaches me again how to love, when I've been petty, angry or demanding.

love, Heather

Poetry Corner - Free Verse Rendering from Fernando Pessoa's Prose in Livro do Desassossego, in Portuguese

In a chair I sit
And forget the life
That so oppresses me.
The only pain I feel
Is the pain
Of having felt it sometime.
To be free is
To withdraw from the world.
You seek no one,
No money, no glory
No love, no society, no curiosity.
They flourish not
In silence and solitude.

Unable to live alone
Is like being a slave.
Even if superior in soul,
You still are a serf--
A noble slave.

Woe betide you,
Weight of life makes you a slave.
Woe betide you,
Born free, yet you seek
Others’ company for need.
That tragedy is yours alone,
You alone must bear it.

~ Fernando Pessoa
Rendering by Ravi Kopra

Thanks Geeta! I trust my gut instincts too; and they seldom lead me astray; for the very reasons you mention. : )

Yes, I feel very imbedded in a blankness, when I am designing; I love this realm of "being" without constraints.

When I make my greeting cards; I go into much the same trance-like state. I see only the task at hand. Very calming.

North

Keith, Geeta, and North: It's so fun to hear from you guys all at once--am getting ready to get my trusty steed, my mountain bike that I named after Ramtha's favorite horse, Shimiradin, and head east for some more reading in Patzi's fourth book.

But, will take your thoughts with me, and talk to you later.

Geeta, "no worries" girl, but I have a fun story to tell you, a true story with my delivery Toyota, so I know what you're feeling--but if ever there was one who has soooo......much "right with them"--it's you (Keith is a baseball player--what can I say--and Keith, won't get to meet Stan till a bit later in this week, he's got a business "thang" first!).

North, you'll have to show Patzi and I how to use your blog--if you will; she's a "Mac Cat," as a writer, and I'm one of the most computer-illiterate adults in America; if I only had a five-year-old in the house to show me how to use this stuff (Monkey See, Monkey Do)!!! Dave

Dear Cinda,
Congrats on Trinidad & Tobago drawing with the favourites, Sweden. I saw that match and T & T played very well, inspite of having reduced to 10 men. Good luck for future matches.
Alas! India could not even make it to the finals. Australia just beat Japan 3-1. Japan was leading by a goal right till the very end of the match, but the Aussies came back out of the blue and scored three goals in the dying moments of the game.
I think even USA have a match today.

Cheers!
Navin

David, the pleasure will be all mine, to show Patzi the ropes on maintaining the blog! Have a good read, a great day, and listen to the whispers in the wind...

North

The Joy of Life

My emotions and weaknesses for the ever-important, joyous, enchanting and time-defeating themes of friendship and love brought me home one day almost wretched. My intense feelings which I bore for one were not resiprocated. And this, has not happened just to me, but to countless others all over the globe. Life seems to be dragging on with much pain, whatsoever the reason may be. For some, it rises from a broken heart. For a certain number of people, from lack of success. And for some, from too much money. Though this sounds weird, it is quite true that some fail to find sufficient joy even though he is sitting in the club class of an airline drinking refined Bordeaux wine. Something seems to be lacking in his life. And if life is not led with joy (by which I surely mean meaningful joy, excluding all joys rising out of crimes such as raping) and with proper karma, it is no life at all.

Back home, I stretched myself on my bed, cursing my life for it lacked the joy I sought so desperately. I was disturbed and felt the need to calm my mind. And something suddenly dawned in my mind; a way that might fill me with pleasure – a way that I eventually discovered to be truly capable of filling one with peace, pleasure and wonder.

I was meditating.

Though I am merely twenty, I have already seen enough people (from my friends to financially well-established businessmen) to convince me of the fact that an overwhelming majority of people are not actually enjoying life as much as they want to. Living in a big house with four guards at the gate is not the key to a happy life. This reminds me something that Chandrani Banerjee of Krosswindz said to a newspaper, “… you don’t need to be an engineer with a huge house to be happy.” At the same time, observing several of my friends, it is clear to me that running after girls is not the way to happiness either. Fancy clothes and air-conditioned cars are simply not the things that give us the permanent happiness which each and everyone of us desire. We can see it all over. And that is why some people tend to spend huge amounts of money for training themselves in meditation centers. A frustrated boy finds but a very temporary transcendence from pain by sitting in a sophisticated pub with beer running down his throat. Much has been written, from Jonathan Livingstone Seagull to The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari. Several people are reading these best sellers. But things do not seem to have changed much. It makes no sense to live a life if not lived with a long-lasting joy. And that joy comes from self-love (which is not to be mistaken for selfishness), gradually saturating in universal love.

That day I had set out in a quest for that permanent happiness which, as I had read in several places, can be found in deep meditation.

Listening to my story will be of no use. Wear loose clothes and sit down with cross legs in a silent and dimly lit room. Sit with your eyes closed. Bring your mind to total peace. Let no thoughts of the past, present or future dwell inside you. Inside you there is calmness. Try to feel it. Tell yourself that you are nothing; that there is nothing around you. Forget all that you desired and all that you have got. Forget all of your relations, be it your girl friend or your guru. Try to feel the darkness inside your closed eyes. It feels extraordinary. The silence, the darkness, the sense of being undisturbed feels so extremely satisfying. In the beginning, several thoughts shall pierce your mind. Your stream of consciousness shall invade you with its rain of thoughts. But go on ignoring them. Every time in your mind you are thrown out of your world of meditation, come back with strong resolution do go deep inside the abyss of silence your mind can create.

In the beginning, this might be hard. So start with focusing on your breath. Be aware of the air pulled inside you, and then thrown out. Feel you chest expand and contract. Try to feel the entire function, and go deep into it. An extremely satisfying sense of fulfillment arises. If your mind wanders, bring it back. And then become aware of your left hand, then your right hand, then your calves and so on. Work through your entire physic. Ultimately, you will be focusing without distractions, and an unparalleled happiness will dawn inside you.

To be immersed in deep Samadhi (transcendental consciousness), immovable as a rock, is the highest stage; a stage hard enough to reach, and giving the greatest pleasures ever.
“The uncontrolled mind”, as the Bhagavad-Gita says, “Does not guess that the Atman is present: How can I meditate? Without meditation, where is peace? Without peace, where is happiness?”

To practice meditation according to Yoga or Vedanta and to reach its zenith is something which all of us can hardly manage to do in the midst of his daily life bound by maya. Thus something simple, yet pleasing and filling us with awe is in demand. And it is the joy of hearing.

That day, before I went into a slightly deep meditation, I closed my eyes and focused on what came to my ears from the window open beside me. I was overwhelmed with awe. Never had I observed so carefully before that all around us there are so many things happening at the same moment. Several sounds came to my ears at the same time: The blades of the fan over me cutting through the air, the phone ringing downstairs, the grand-father clock going a sudden ding-dong, a sweet note of some guitar being played somewhere, a few chaps laughing and chatting at the corner of the street, the clattering of the utensils dropping on the floor next door and the neighbour screaming at her child, blowing horns of the passing vehicles, the clattering of the mortar of a scooter when its owner started it, the creaking noise of the brakes of a car, the strong wind smashing my window pane, the rustling of the tree leaves, the occasional thunders, the creaking bell of some hurrying bicycle; all of these seemed so funny and joyous. My mind lost its pain and started playing all by itself, trying to catch every sound that came to it. Believe me. The joy was ecstatic. However, some of these sounds are disturbing. When one is about to fall deep into himself, the sound of neighbours screaming is not just a distraction, but a disturbing one too. For the ultimate peace and meditation, the very first thing that is to be done is to detach oneself from all noise and pollution. And that is preciously the reason why our ancient rishies sought out forests and mountains for their meditation. It must be apparent to all, that true peace and the consequential joy is not to be found in a lounge, but in the Zen gardens.

And of course, there are several other magnificent creations which can give us unbelievable peace and pleasure. Find a quite room, sit down calmly with your eyes closed and let the sweet notes of Mozart or Beethoven sink down deep inside your heart. What else but music can give you sufficient pleasure after a hard days work? Listen deep, and dive into the abyss of meditation. Such pleasures are pleasures which no amount of money can bring you. They are to be discovered and realized. For a few moments, go to your roof and gaze with wonder at the stars. Wipe away from your mind all thoughts and look at them. When I did that, I almost felt their hearts throbbing at the same pace as mine. They were so beautiful. I loved them, and they loved me back. The world has such wonderful things to give us. He, who is sad of trifles and has not loved Nature, is the poorest of all; no matter how much he earns. This brings to my mind the sweet words of John Denver:

And the Colorado rocky mountain high
I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky
I know he'd be a poorer man if he never saw an eagle fly
Rocky mountain high.

- Subhanjan Sengupta
Student of Ramakrishna Mission College, Belur Math.
Doing my graduation in English literature.
If the reader wishes to say something to me, whatever it might be,
he is welcomed to contact me at – il_penseroso@rediffmail.com.

P.S : Though my e-mail ID is such, I am looking for someone who is a la allegro. Nonetheless, anyone is welcome.

The Joy of Life

My emotions and weaknesses for the ever-important, joyous, enchanting and time-defeating themes of friendship and love brought me home one day almost wretched. My intense feelings which I bore for one were not resiprocated. And this, has not happened just to me, but to countless others all over the globe. Life seems to be dragging on with much pain, whatsoever the reason may be. For some, it rises from a broken heart. For a certain number of people, from lack of success. And for some, from too much money. Though this sounds weird, it is quite true that some fail to find sufficient joy even though he is sitting in the club class of an airline drinking refined Bordeaux wine. Something seems to be lacking in his life. And if life is not led with joy (by which I surely mean meaningful joy, excluding all joys rising out of crimes such as raping) and with proper karma, it is no life at all.

Back home, I stretched myself on my bed, cursing my life for it lacked the joy I sought so desperately. I was disturbed and felt the need to calm my mind. And something suddenly dawned in my mind; a way that might fill me with pleasure – a way that I eventually discovered to be truly capable of filling one with peace, pleasure and wonder.

I was meditating.

Though I am merely twenty, I have already seen enough people (from my friends to financially well-established businessmen) to convince me of the fact that an overwhelming majority of people are not actually enjoying life as much as they want to. Living in a big house with four guards at the gate is not the key to a happy life. This reminds me something that Chandrani Banerjee of Krosswindz said to a newspaper, “… you don’t need to be an engineer with a huge house to be happy.” At the same time, observing several of my friends, it is clear to me that running after girls is not the way to happiness either. Fancy clothes and air-conditioned cars are simply not the things that give us the permanent happiness which each and everyone of us desire. We can see it all over. And that is why some people tend to spend huge amounts of money for training themselves in meditation centers. A frustrated boy finds but a very temporary transcendence from pain by sitting in a sophisticated pub with beer running down his throat. Much has been written, from Jonathan Livingstone Seagull to The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari. Several people are reading these best sellers. But things do not seem to have changed much. It makes no sense to live a life if not lived with a long-lasting joy. And that joy comes from self-love (which is not to be mistaken for selfishness), gradually saturating in universal love.

That day I had set out in a quest for that permanent happiness which, as I had read in several places, can be found in deep meditation.

Listening to my story will be of no use. Wear loose clothes and sit down with cross legs in a silent and dimly lit room. Sit with your eyes closed. Bring your mind to total peace. Let no thoughts of the past, present or future dwell inside you. Inside you there is calmness. Try to feel it. Tell yourself that you are nothing; that there is nothing around you. Forget all that you desired and all that you have got. Forget all of your relations, be it your girl friend or your guru. Try to feel the darkness inside your closed eyes. It feels extraordinary. The silence, the darkness, the sense of being undisturbed feels so extremely satisfying. In the beginning, several thoughts shall pierce your mind. Your stream of consciousness shall invade you with its rain of thoughts. But go on ignoring them. Every time in your mind you are thrown out of your world of meditation, come back with strong resolution do go deep inside the abyss of silence your mind can create.

In the beginning, this might be hard. So start with focusing on your breath. Be aware of the air pulled inside you, and then thrown out. Feel you chest expand and contract. Try to feel the entire function, and go deep into it. An extremely satisfying sense of fulfillment arises. If your mind wanders, bring it back. And then become aware of your left hand, then your right hand, then your calves and so on. Work through your entire physic. Ultimately, you will be focusing without distractions, and an unparalleled happiness will dawn inside you.

To be immersed in deep Samadhi (transcendental consciousness), immovable as a rock, is the highest stage; a stage hard enough to reach, and giving the greatest pleasures ever.
“The uncontrolled mind”, as the Bhagavad-Gita says, “Does not guess that the Atman is present: How can I meditate? Without meditation, where is peace? Without peace, where is happiness?”

To practice meditation according to Yoga or Vedanta and to reach its zenith is something which all of us can hardly manage to do in the midst of his daily life bound by maya. Thus something simple, yet pleasing and filling us with awe is in demand. And it is the joy of hearing.

That day, before I went into a slightly deep meditation, I closed my eyes and focused on what came to my ears from the window open beside me. I was overwhelmed with awe. Never had I observed so carefully before that all around us there are so many things happening at the same moment. Several sounds came to my ears at the same time: The blades of the fan over me cutting through the air, the phone ringing downstairs, the grand-father clock going a sudden ding-dong, a sweet note of some guitar being played somewhere, a few chaps laughing and chatting at the corner of the street, the clattering of the utensils dropping on the floor next door and the neighbour screaming at her child, blowing horns of the passing vehicles, the clattering of the mortar of a scooter when its owner started it, the creaking noise of the brakes of a car, the strong wind smashing my window pane, the rustling of the tree leaves, the occasional thunders, the creaking bell of some hurrying bicycle; all of these seemed so funny and joyous. My mind lost its pain and started playing all by itself, trying to catch every sound that came to it. Believe me. The joy was ecstatic. However, some of these sounds are disturbing. When one is about to fall deep into himself, the sound of neighbours screaming is not just a distraction, but a disturbing one too. For the ultimate peace and meditation, the very first thing that is to be done is to detach oneself from all noise and pollution. And that is preciously the reason why our ancient rishies sought out forests and mountains for their meditation. It must be apparent to all, that true peace and the consequential joy is not to be found in a lounge, but in the Zen gardens.

And of course, there are several other magnificent creations which can give us unbelievable peace and pleasure. Find a quite room, sit down calmly with your eyes closed and let the sweet notes of Mozart or Beethoven sink down deep inside your heart. What else but music can give you sufficient pleasure after a hard days work? Listen deep, and dive into the abyss of meditation. Such pleasures are pleasures which no amount of money can bring you. They are to be discovered and realized. For a few moments, go to your roof and gaze with wonder at the stars. Wipe away from your mind all thoughts and look at them. When I did that, I almost felt their hearts throbbing at the same pace as mine. They were so beautiful. I loved them, and they loved me back. The world has such wonderful things to give us. He, who is sad of trifles and has not loved Nature, is the poorest of all; no matter how much he earns. This brings to my mind the sweet words of John Denver:

And the Colorado rocky mountain high
I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky
I know he'd be a poorer man if he never saw an eagle fly
Rocky mountain high.

- Subhanjan Sengupta
Student of Ramakrishna Mission College, Belur Math.
Doing my graduation in English literature.
If the reader wishes to say something to me, whatever it might be,
he is welcomed to contact me at – il_penseroso@rediffmail.com.

P.S : Though my e-mail ID is such, I am looking for someone who is a la allegro. Nonetheless, anyone is welcome.

The Joy of Life

My emotions and weaknesses for the ever-important, joyous, enchanting and time-defeating themes of friendship and love brought me home one day almost wretched. My intense feelings which I bore for one were not resiprocated. And this, has not happened just to me, but to countless others all over the globe. Life seems to be dragging on with much pain, whatsoever the reason may be. For some, it rises from a broken heart. For a certain number of people, from lack of success. And for some, from too much money. Though this sounds weird, it is quite true that some fail to find sufficient joy even though he is sitting in the club class of an airline drinking refined Bordeaux wine. Something seems to be lacking in his life. And if life is not led with joy (by which I surely mean meaningful joy, excluding all joys rising out of crimes such as raping) and with proper karma, it is no life at all.

Back home, I stretched myself on my bed, cursing my life for it lacked the joy I sought so desperately. I was disturbed and felt the need to calm my mind. And something suddenly dawned in my mind; a way that might fill me with pleasure – a way that I eventually discovered to be truly capable of filling one with peace, pleasure and wonder.

I was meditating.

Though I am merely twenty, I have already seen enough people (from my friends to financially well-established businessmen) to convince me of the fact that an overwhelming majority of people are not actually enjoying life as much as they want to. Living in a big house with four guards at the gate is not the key to a happy life. This reminds me something that Chandrani Banerjee of Krosswindz said to a newspaper, “… you don’t need to be an engineer with a huge house to be happy.” At the same time, observing several of my friends, it is clear to me that running after girls is not the way to happiness either. Fancy clothes and air-conditioned cars are simply not the things that give us the permanent happiness which each and everyone of us desire. We can see it all over. And that is why some people tend to spend huge amounts of money for training themselves in meditation centers. A frustrated boy finds but a very temporary transcendence from pain by sitting in a sophisticated pub with beer running down his throat. Much has been written, from Jonathan Livingstone Seagull to The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari. Several people are reading these best sellers. But things do not seem to have changed much. It makes no sense to live a life if not lived with a long-lasting joy. And that joy comes from self-love (which is not to be mistaken for selfishness), gradually saturating in universal love.

That day I had set out in a quest for that permanent happiness which, as I had read in several places, can be found in deep meditation.

Listening to my story will be of no use. Wear loose clothes and sit down with cross legs in a silent and dimly lit room. Sit with your eyes closed. Bring your mind to total peace. Let no thoughts of the past, present or future dwell inside you. Inside you there is calmness. Try to feel it. Tell yourself that you are nothing; that there is nothing around you. Forget all that you desired and all that you have got. Forget all of your relations, be it your girl friend or your guru. Try to feel the darkness inside your closed eyes. It feels extraordinary. The silence, the darkness, the sense of being undisturbed feels so extremely satisfying. In the beginning, several thoughts shall pierce your mind. Your stream of consciousness shall invade you with its rain of thoughts. But go on ignoring them. Every time in your mind you are thrown out of your world of meditation, come back with strong resolution do go deep inside the abyss of silence your mind can create.

In the beginning, this might be hard. So start with focusing on your breath. Be aware of the air pulled inside you, and then thrown out. Feel you chest expand and contract. Try to feel the entire function, and go deep into it. An extremely satisfying sense of fulfillment arises. If your mind wanders, bring it back. And then become aware of your left hand, then your right hand, then your calves and so on. Work through your entire physic. Ultimately, you will be focusing without distractions, and an unparalleled happiness will dawn inside you.

To be immersed in deep Samadhi (transcendental consciousness), immovable as a rock, is the highest stage; a stage hard enough to reach, and giving the greatest pleasures ever.
“The uncontrolled mind”, as the Bhagavad-Gita says, “Does not guess that the Atman is present: How can I meditate? Without meditation, where is peace? Without peace, where is happiness?”

To practice meditation according to Yoga or Vedanta and to reach its zenith is something which all of us can hardly manage to do in the midst of his daily life bound by maya. Thus something simple, yet pleasing and filling us with awe is in demand. And it is the joy of hearing.

That day, before I went into a slightly deep meditation, I closed my eyes and focused on what came to my ears from the window open beside me. I was overwhelmed with awe. Never had I observed so carefully before that all around us there are so many things happening at the same moment. Several sounds came to my ears at the same time: The blades of the fan over me cutting through the air, the phone ringing downstairs, the grand-father clock going a sudden ding-dong, a sweet note of some guitar being played somewhere, a few chaps laughing and chatting at the corner of the street, the clattering of the utensils dropping on the floor next door and the neighbour screaming at her child, blowing horns of the passing vehicles, the clattering of the mortar of a scooter when its owner started it, the creaking noise of the brakes of a car, the strong wind smashing my window pane, the rustling of the tree leaves, the occasional thunders, the creaking bell of some hurrying bicycle; all of these seemed so funny and joyous. My mind lost its pain and started playing all by itself, trying to catch every sound that came to it. Believe me. The joy was ecstatic. However, some of these sounds are disturbing. When one is about to fall deep into himself, the sound of neighbours screaming is not just a distraction, but a disturbing one too. For the ultimate peace and meditation, the very first thing that is to be done is to detach oneself from all noise and pollution. And that is preciously the reason why our ancient rishies sought out forests and mountains for their meditation. It must be apparent to all, that true peace and the consequential joy is not to be found in a lounge, but in the Zen gardens.

And of course, there are several other magnificent creations which can give us unbelievable peace and pleasure. Find a quite room, sit down calmly with your eyes closed and let the sweet notes of Mozart or Beethoven sink down deep inside your heart. What else but music can give you sufficient pleasure after a hard days work? Listen deep, and dive into the abyss of meditation. Such pleasures are pleasures which no amount of money can bring you. They are to be discovered and realized. For a few moments, go to your roof and gaze with wonder at the stars. Wipe away from your mind all thoughts and look at them. When I did that, I almost felt their hearts throbbing at the same pace as mine. They were so beautiful. I loved them, and they loved me back. The world has such wonderful things to give us. He, who is sad of trifles and has not loved Nature, is the poorest of all; no matter how much he earns. This brings to my mind the sweet words of John Denver:

And the Colorado rocky mountain high
I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky
I know he'd be a poorer man if he never saw an eagle fly
Rocky mountain high.

- Subhanjan Sengupta
Student of Ramakrishna Mission College, Belur Math.
Doing my graduation in English literature.
If the reader wishes to say something to me, whatever it might be,
he is welcomed to contact me at – il_penseroso@rediffmail.com.

P.S : Though my e-mail ID is such, I am looking for someone who is a la allegro. Nonetheless, anyone is welcome.

The Joy of Life

My emotions and weaknesses for the ever-important, joyous, enchanting and time-defeating themes of friendship and love brought me home one day almost wretched. My intense feelings which I bore for one were not resiprocated. And this, has not happened just to me, but to countless others all over the globe. Life seems to be dragging on with much pain, whatsoever the reason may be. For some, it rises from a broken heart. For a certain number of people, from lack of success. And for some, from too much money. Though this sounds weird, it is quite true that some fail to find sufficient joy even though he is sitting in the club class of an airline drinking refined Bordeaux wine. Something seems to be lacking in his life. And if life is not led with joy (by which I surely mean meaningful joy, excluding all joys rising out of crimes such as raping) and with proper karma, it is no life at all.

Back home, I stretched myself on my bed, cursing my life for it lacked the joy I sought so desperately. I was disturbed and felt the need to calm my mind. And something suddenly dawned in my mind; a way that might fill me with pleasure – a way that I eventually discovered to be truly capable of filling one with peace, pleasure and wonder.

I was meditating.

Though I am merely twenty, I have already seen enough people (from my friends to financially well-established businessmen) to convince me of the fact that an overwhelming majority of people are not actually enjoying life as much as they want to. Living in a big house with four guards at the gate is not the key to a happy life. This reminds me something that Chandrani Banerjee of Krosswindz said to a newspaper, “… you don’t need to be an engineer with a huge house to be happy.” At the same time, observing several of my friends, it is clear to me that running after girls is not the way to happiness either. Fancy clothes and air-conditioned cars are simply not the things that give us the permanent happiness which each and everyone of us desire. We can see it all over. And that is why some people tend to spend huge amounts of money for training themselves in meditation centers. A frustrated boy finds but a very temporary transcendence from pain by sitting in a sophisticated pub with beer running down his throat. Much has been written, from Jonathan Livingstone Seagull to The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari. Several people are reading these best sellers. But things do not seem to have changed much. It makes no sense to live a life if not lived with a long-lasting joy. And that joy comes from self-love (which is not to be mistaken for selfishness), gradually saturating in universal love.

That day I had set out in a quest for that permanent happiness which, as I had read in several places, can be found in deep meditation.

Listening to my story will be of no use. Wear loose clothes and sit down with cross legs in a silent and dimly lit room. Sit with your eyes closed. Bring your mind to total peace. Let no thoughts of the past, present or future dwell inside you. Inside you there is calmness. Try to feel it. Tell yourself that you are nothing; that there is nothing around you. Forget all that you desired and all that you have got. Forget all of your relations, be it your girl friend or your guru. Try to feel the darkness inside your closed eyes. It feels extraordinary. The silence, the darkness, the sense of being undisturbed feels so extremely satisfying. In the beginning, several thoughts shall pierce your mind. Your stream of consciousness shall invade you with its rain of thoughts. But go on ignoring them. Every time in your mind you are thrown out of your world of meditation, come back with strong resolution do go deep inside the abyss of silence your mind can create.

In the beginning, this might be hard. So start with focusing on your breath. Be aware of the air pulled inside you, and then thrown out. Feel you chest expand and contract. Try to feel the entire function, and go deep into it. An extremely satisfying sense of fulfillment arises. If your mind wanders, bring it back. And then become aware of your left hand, then your right hand, then your calves and so on. Work through your entire physic. Ultimately, you will be focusing without distractions, and an unparalleled happiness will dawn inside you.

To be immersed in deep Samadhi (transcendental consciousness), immovable as a rock, is the highest stage; a stage hard enough to reach, and giving the greatest pleasures ever.
“The uncontrolled mind”, as the Bhagavad-Gita says, “Does not guess that the Atman is present: How can I meditate? Without meditation, where is peace? Without peace, where is happiness?”

To practice meditation according to Yoga or Vedanta and to reach its zenith is something which all of us can hardly manage to do in the midst of his daily life bound by maya. Thus something simple, yet pleasing and filling us with awe is in demand. And it is the joy of hearing.

That day, before I went into a slightly deep meditation, I closed my eyes and focused on what came to my ears from the window open beside me. I was overwhelmed with awe. Never had I observed so carefully before that all around us there are so many things happening at the same moment. Several sounds came to my ears at the same time: The blades of the fan over me cutting through the air, the phone ringing downstairs, the grand-father clock going a sudden ding-dong, a sweet note of some guitar being played somewhere, a few chaps laughing and chatting at the corner of the street, the clattering of the utensils dropping on the floor next door and the neighbour screaming at her child, blowing horns of the passing vehicles, the clattering of the mortar of a scooter when its owner started it, the creaking noise of the brakes of a car, the strong wind smashing my window pane, the rustling of the tree leaves, the occasional thunders, the creaking bell of some hurrying bicycle; all of these seemed so funny and joyous. My mind lost its pain and started playing all by itself, trying to catch every sound that came to it. Believe me. The joy was ecstatic. However, some of these sounds are disturbing. When one is about to fall deep into himself, the sound of neighbours screaming is not just a distraction, but a disturbing one too. For the ultimate peace and meditation, the very first thing that is to be done is to detach oneself from all noise and pollution. And that is preciously the reason why our ancient rishies sought out forests and mountains for their meditation. It must be apparent to all, that true peace and the consequential joy is not to be found in a lounge, but in the Zen gardens.

And of course, there are several other magnificent creations which can give us unbelievable peace and pleasure. Find a quite room, sit down calmly with your eyes closed and let the sweet notes of Mozart or Beethoven sink down deep inside your heart. What else but music can give you sufficient pleasure after a hard days work? Listen deep, and dive into the abyss of meditation. Such pleasures are pleasures which no amount of money can bring you. They are to be discovered and realized. For a few moments, go to your roof and gaze with wonder at the stars. Wipe away from your mind all thoughts and look at them. When I did that, I almost felt their hearts throbbing at the same pace as mine. They were so beautiful. I loved them, and they loved me back. The world has such wonderful things to give us. He, who is sad of trifles and has not loved Nature, is the poorest of all; no matter how much he earns. This brings to my mind the sweet words of John Denver:

And the Colorado rocky mountain high
I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky
I know he'd be a poorer man if he never saw an eagle fly
Rocky mountain high.

- Subhanjan Sengupta
Student of Ramakrishna Mission College, Belur Math.
Doing my graduation in English literature.
If the reader wishes to say something to me, whatever it might be,
he is welcomed to contact me at – il_penseroso@rediffmail.com.

P.S : Though my e-mail ID is such, I am looking for someone who is a la allegro. Nonetheless, anyone is welcome.

The Joy of Life

My emotions and weaknesses for the ever-important, joyous, enchanting and time-defeating themes of friendship and love brought me home one day almost wretched. My intense feelings which I bore for one were not resiprocated. And this, has not happened just to me, but to countless others all over the globe. Life seems to be dragging on with much pain, whatsoever the reason may be. For some, it rises from a broken heart. For a certain number of people, from lack of success. And for some, from too much money. Though this sounds weird, it is quite true that some fail to find sufficient joy even though he is sitting in the club class of an airline drinking refined Bordeaux wine. Something seems to be lacking in his life. And if life is not led with joy (by which I surely mean meaningful joy, excluding all joys rising out of crimes such as raping) and with proper karma, it is no life at all.

Back home, I stretched myself on my bed, cursing my life for it lacked the joy I sought so desperately. I was disturbed and felt the need to calm my mind. And something suddenly dawned in my mind; a way that might fill me with pleasure – a way that I eventually discovered to be truly capable of filling one with peace, pleasure and wonder.

I was meditating.

Though I am merely twenty, I have already seen enough people (from my friends to financially well-established businessmen) to convince me of the fact that an overwhelming majority of people are not actually enjoying life as much as they want to. Living in a big house with four guards at the gate is not the key to a happy life. This reminds me something that Chandrani Banerjee of Krosswindz said to a newspaper, “… you don’t need to be an engineer with a huge house to be happy.” At the same time, observing several of my friends, it is clear to me that running after girls is not the way to happiness either. Fancy clothes and air-conditioned cars are simply not the things that give us the permanent happiness which each and everyone of us desire. We can see it all over. And that is why some people tend to spend huge amounts of money for training themselves in meditation centers. A frustrated boy finds but a very temporary transcendence from pain by sitting in a sophisticated pub with beer running down his throat. Much has been written, from Jonathan Livingstone Seagull to The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari. Several people are reading these best sellers. But things do not seem to have changed much. It makes no sense to live a life if not lived with a long-lasting joy. And that joy comes from self-love (which is not to be mistaken for selfishness), gradually saturating in universal love.

That day I had set out in a quest for that permanent happiness which, as I had read in several places, can be found in deep meditation.

Listening to my story will be of no use. Wear loose clothes and sit down with cross legs in a silent and dimly lit room. Sit with your eyes closed. Bring your mind to total peace. Let no thoughts of the past, present or future dwell inside you. Inside you there is calmness. Try to feel it. Tell yourself that you are nothing; that there is nothing around you. Forget all that you desired and all that you have got. Forget all of your relations, be it your girl friend or your guru. Try to feel the darkness inside your closed eyes. It feels extraordinary. The silence, the darkness, the sense of being undisturbed feels so extremely satisfying. In the beginning, several thoughts shall pierce your mind. Your stream of consciousness shall invade you with its rain of thoughts. But go on ignoring them. Every time in your mind you are thrown out of your world of meditation, come back with strong resolution do go deep inside the abyss of silence your mind can create.

In the beginning, this might be hard. So start with focusing on your breath. Be aware of the air pulled inside you, and then thrown out. Feel you chest expand and contract. Try to feel the entire function, and go deep into it. An extremely satisfying sense of fulfillment arises. If your mind wanders, bring it back. And then become aware of your left hand, then your right hand, then your calves and so on. Work through your entire physic. Ultimately, you will be focusing without distractions, and an unparalleled happiness will dawn inside you.

To be immersed in deep Samadhi (transcendental consciousness), immovable as a rock, is the highest stage; a stage hard enough to reach, and giving the greatest pleasures ever.
“The uncontrolled mind”, as the Bhagavad-Gita says, “Does not guess that the Atman is present: How can I meditate? Without meditation, where is peace? Without peace, where is happiness?”

To practice meditation according to Yoga or Vedanta and to reach its zenith is something which all of us can hardly manage to do in the midst of his daily life bound by maya. Thus something simple, yet pleasing and filling us with awe is in demand. And it is the joy of hearing.

That day, before I went into a slightly deep meditation, I closed my eyes and focused on what came to my ears from the window open beside me. I was overwhelmed with awe. Never had I observed so carefully before that all around us there are so many things happening at the same moment. Several sounds came to my ears at the same time: The blades of the fan over me cutting through the air, the phone ringing downstairs, the grand-father clock going a sudden ding-dong, a sweet note of some guitar being played somewhere, a few chaps laughing and chatting at the corner of the street, the clattering of the utensils dropping on the floor next door and the neighbour screaming at her child, blowing horns of the passing vehicles, the clattering of the mortar of a scooter when its owner started it, the creaking noise of the brakes of a car, the strong wind smashing my window pane, the rustling of the tree leaves, the occasional thunders, the creaking bell of some hurrying bicycle; all of these seemed so funny and joyous. My mind lost its pain and started playing all by itself, trying to catch every sound that came to it. Believe me. The joy was ecstatic. However, some of these sounds are disturbing. When one is about to fall deep into himself, the sound of neighbours screaming is not just a distraction, but a disturbing one too. For the ultimate peace and meditation, the very first thing that is to be done is to detach oneself from all noise and pollution. And that is preciously the reason why our ancient rishies sought out forests and mountains for their meditation. It must be apparent to all, that true peace and the consequential joy is not to be found in a lounge, but in the Zen gardens.

And of course, there are several other magnificent creations which can give us unbelievable peace and pleasure. Find a quite room, sit down calmly with your eyes closed and let the sweet notes of Mozart or Beethoven sink down deep inside your heart. What else but music can give you sufficient pleasure after a hard days work? Listen deep, and dive into the abyss of meditation. Such pleasures are pleasures which no amount of money can bring you. They are to be discovered and realized. For a few moments, go to your roof and gaze with wonder at the stars. Wipe away from your mind all thoughts and look at them. When I did that, I almost felt their hearts throbbing at the same pace as mine. They were so beautiful. I loved them, and they loved me back. The world has such wonderful things to give us. He, who is sad of trifles and has not loved Nature, is the poorest of all; no matter how much he earns. This brings to my mind the sweet words of John Denver:

And the Colorado rocky mountain high
I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky
I know he'd be a poorer man if he never saw an eagle fly
Rocky mountain high.

- Subhanjan Sengupta
Student of Ramakrishna Mission College, Belur Math.
Doing my graduation in English literature.
If the reader wishes to say something to me, whatever it might be,
he is welcomed to contact me at – il_penseroso@rediffmail.com.

P.S : Though my e-mail ID is such, I am looking for someone who is a la allegro. Nonetheless, anyone is welcome.

The Joy of Life

My emotions and weaknesses for the ever-important, joyous, enchanting and time-defeating themes of friendship and love brought me home one day almost wretched. My intense feelings which I bore for one were not resiprocated. And this, has not happened just to me, but to countless others all over the globe. Life seems to be dragging on with much pain, whatsoever the reason may be. For some, it rises from a broken heart. For a certain number of people, from lack of success. And for some, from too much money. Though this sounds weird, it is quite true that some fail to find sufficient joy even though he is sitting in the club class of an airline drinking refined Bordeaux wine. Something seems to be lacking in his life. And if life is not led with joy (by which I surely mean meaningful joy, excluding all joys rising out of crimes such as raping) and with proper karma, it is no life at all.

Back home, I stretched myself on my bed, cursing my life for it lacked the joy I sought so desperately. I was disturbed and felt the need to calm my mind. And something suddenly dawned in my mind; a way that might fill me with pleasure – a way that I eventually discovered to be truly capable of filling one with peace, pleasure and wonder.

I was meditating.

Though I am merely twenty, I have already seen enough people (from my friends to financially well-established businessmen) to convince me of the fact that an overwhelming majority of people are not actually enjoying life as much as they want to. Living in a big house with four guards at the gate is not the key to a happy life. This reminds me something that Chandrani Banerjee of Krosswindz said to a newspaper, “… you don’t need to be an engineer with a huge house to be happy.” At the same time, observing several of my friends, it is clear to me that running after girls is not the way to happiness either. Fancy clothes and air-conditioned cars are simply not the things that give us the permanent happiness which each and everyone of us desire. We can see it all over. And that is why some people tend to spend huge amounts of money for training themselves in meditation centers. A frustrated boy finds but a very temporary transcendence from pain by sitting in a sophisticated pub with beer running down his throat. Much has been written, from Jonathan Livingstone Seagull to The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari. Several people are reading these best sellers. But things do not seem to have changed much. It makes no sense to live a life if not lived with a long-lasting joy. And that joy comes from self-love (which is not to be mistaken for selfishness), gradually saturating in universal love.

That day I had set out in a quest for that permanent happiness which, as I had read in several places, can be found in deep meditation.

Listening to my story will be of no use. Wear loose clothes and sit down with cross legs in a silent and dimly lit room. Sit with your eyes closed. Bring your mind to total peace. Let no thoughts of the past, present or future dwell inside you. Inside you there is calmness. Try to feel it. Tell yourself that you are nothing; that there is nothing around you. Forget all that you desired and all that you have got. Forget all of your relations, be it your girl friend or your guru. Try to feel the darkness inside your closed eyes. It feels extraordinary. The silence, the darkness, the sense of being undisturbed feels so extremely satisfying. In the beginning, several thoughts shall pierce your mind. Your stream of consciousness shall invade you with its rain of thoughts. But go on ignoring them. Every time in your mind you are thrown out of your world of meditation, come back with strong resolution do go deep inside the abyss of silence your mind can create.

In the beginning, this might be hard. So start with focusing on your breath. Be aware of the air pulled inside you, and then thrown out. Feel you chest expand and contract. Try to feel the entire function, and go deep into it. An extremely satisfying sense of fulfillment arises. If your mind wanders, bring it back. And then become aware of your left hand, then your right hand, then your calves and so on. Work through your entire physic. Ultimately, you will be focusing without distractions, and an unparalleled happiness will dawn inside you.

To be immersed in deep Samadhi (transcendental consciousness), immovable as a rock, is the highest stage; a stage hard enough to reach, and giving the greatest pleasures ever.
“The uncontrolled mind”, as the Bhagavad-Gita says, “Does not guess that the Atman is present: How can I meditate? Without meditation, where is peace? Without peace, where is happiness?”

To practice meditation according to Yoga or Vedanta and to reach its zenith is something which all of us can hardly manage to do in the midst of his daily life bound by maya. Thus something simple, yet pleasing and filling us with awe is in demand. And it is the joy of hearing.

That day, before I went into a slightly deep meditation, I closed my eyes and focused on what came to my ears from the window open beside me. I was overwhelmed with awe. Never had I observed so carefully before that all around us there are so many things happening at the same moment. Several sounds came to my ears at the same time: The blades of the fan over me cutting through the air, the phone ringing downstairs, the grand-father clock going a sudden ding-dong, a sweet note of some guitar being played somewhere, a few chaps laughing and chatting at the corner of the street, the clattering of the utensils dropping on the floor next door and the neighbour screaming at her child, blowing horns of the passing vehicles, the clattering of the mortar of a scooter when its owner started it, the creaking noise of the brakes of a car, the strong wind smashing my window pane, the rustling of the tree leaves, the occasional thunders, the creaking bell of some hurrying bicycle; all of these seemed so funny and joyous. My mind lost its pain and started playing all by itself, trying to catch every sound that came to it. Believe me. The joy was ecstatic. However, some of these sounds are disturbing. When one is about to fall deep into himself, the sound of neighbours screaming is not just a distraction, but a disturbing one too. For the ultimate peace and meditation, the very first thing that is to be done is to detach oneself from all noise and pollution. And that is preciously the reason why our ancient rishies sought out forests and mountains for their meditation. It must be apparent to all, that true peace and the consequential joy is not to be found in a lounge, but in the Zen gardens.

And of course, there are several other magnificent creations which can give us unbelievable peace and pleasure. Find a quite room, sit down calmly with your eyes closed and let the sweet notes of Mozart or Beethoven sink down deep inside your heart. What else but music can give you sufficient pleasure after a hard days work? Listen deep, and dive into the abyss of meditation. Such pleasures are pleasures which no amount of money can bring you. They are to be discovered and realized. For a few moments, go to your roof and gaze with wonder at the stars. Wipe away from your mind all thoughts and look at them. When I did that, I almost felt their hearts throbbing at the same pace as mine. They were so beautiful. I loved them, and they loved me back. The world has such wonderful things to give us. He, who is sad of trifles and has not loved Nature, is the poorest of all; no matter how much he earns. This brings to my mind the sweet words of John Denver:

And the Colorado rocky mountain high
I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky
I know he'd be a poorer man if he never saw an eagle fly
Rocky mountain high.

- Subhanjan Sengupta
Student of Ramakrishna Mission College, Belur Math.
Doing my graduation in English literature.
If the reader wishes to say something to me, whatever it might be,
he is welcomed to contact me at – il_penseroso@rediffmail.com.

P.S : Though my e-mail ID is such, I am looking for someone who is a la allegro. Nonetheless, anyone is welcome.

Wonderful read and share, Subhanjan Sengupta! May your quest become fulfilled! You are quite young, to have such a splendid insight. Continued success in your studies!

North

The Joy of Life

My emotions and weaknesses for the ever-important, joyous, enchanting and time-defeating themes of friendship and love brought me home one day almost wretched. My intense feelings which I bore for one were not resiprocated. And this, has not happened just to me, but to countless others all over the globe. Life seems to be dragging on with much pain, whatsoever the reason may be. For some, it rises from a broken heart. For a certain number of people, from lack of success. And for some, from too much money. Though this sounds weird, it is quite true that some fail to find sufficient joy even though he is sitting in the club class of an airline drinking refined Bordeaux wine. Something seems to be lacking in his life. And if life is not led with joy (by which I surely mean meaningful joy, excluding all joys rising out of crimes such as raping) and with proper karma, it is no life at all.

Back home, I stretched myself on my bed, cursing my life for it lacked the joy I sought so desperately. I was disturbed and felt the need to calm my mind. And something suddenly dawned in my mind; a way that might fill me with pleasure – a way that I eventually discovered to be truly capable of filling one with peace, pleasure and wonder.

I was meditating.

Though I am merely twenty, I have already seen enough people (from my friends to financially well-established businessmen) to convince me of the fact that an overwhelming majority of people are not actually enjoying life as much as they want to. Living in a big house with four guards at the gate is not the key to a happy life. This reminds me something that Chandrani Banerjee of Krosswindz said to a newspaper, “… you don’t need to be an engineer with a huge house to be happy.” At the same time, observing several of my friends, it is clear to me that running after girls is not the way to happiness either. Fancy clothes and air-conditioned cars are simply not the things that give us the permanent happiness which each and everyone of us desire. We can see it all over. And that is why some people tend to spend huge amounts of money for training themselves in meditation centers. A frustrated boy finds but a very temporary transcendence from pain by sitting in a sophisticated pub with beer running down his throat. Much has been written, from Jonathan Livingstone Seagull to The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari. Several people are reading these best sellers. But things do not seem to have changed much. It makes no sense to live a life if not lived with a long-lasting joy. And that joy comes from self-love (which is not to be mistaken for selfishness), gradually saturating in universal love.

That day I had set out in a quest for that permanent happiness which, as I had read in several places, can be found in deep meditation.

Listening to my story will be of no use. Wear loose clothes and sit down with cross legs in a silent and dimly lit room. Sit with your eyes closed. Bring your mind to total peace. Let no thoughts of the past, present or future dwell inside you. Inside you there is calmness. Try to feel it. Tell yourself that you are nothing; that there is nothing around you. Forget all that you desired and all that you have got. Forget all of your relations, be it your girl friend or your guru. Try to feel the darkness inside your closed eyes. It feels extraordinary. The silence, the darkness, the sense of being undisturbed feels so extremely satisfying. In the beginning, several thoughts shall pierce your mind. Your stream of consciousness shall invade you with its rain of thoughts. But go on ignoring them. Every time in your mind you are thrown out of your world of meditation, come back with strong resolution do go deep inside the abyss of silence your mind can create.

In the beginning, this might be hard. So start with focusing on your breath. Be aware of the air pulled inside you, and then thrown out. Feel you chest expand and contract. Try to feel the entire function, and go deep into it. An extremely satisfying sense of fulfillment arises. If your mind wanders, bring it back. And then become aware of your left hand, then your right hand, then your calves and so on. Work through your entire physic. Ultimately, you will be focusing without distractions, and an unparalleled happiness will dawn inside you.

To be immersed in deep Samadhi (transcendental consciousness), immovable as a rock, is the highest stage; a stage hard enough to reach, and giving the greatest pleasures ever.
“The uncontrolled mind”, as the Bhagavad-Gita says, “Does not guess that the Atman is present: How can I meditate? Without meditation, where is peace? Without peace, where is happiness?”

To practice meditation according to Yoga or Vedanta and to reach its zenith is something which all of us can hardly manage to do in the midst of his daily life bound by maya. Thus something simple, yet pleasing and filling us with awe is in demand. And it is the joy of hearing.

That day, before I went into a slightly deep meditation, I closed my eyes and focused on what came to my ears from the window open beside me. I was overwhelmed with awe. Never had I observed so carefully before that all around us there are so many things happening at the same moment. Several sounds came to my ears at the same time: The blades of the fan over me cutting through the air, the phone ringing downstairs, the grand-father clock going a sudden ding-dong, a sweet note of some guitar being played somewhere, a few chaps laughing and chatting at the corner of the street, the clattering of the utensils dropping on the floor next door and the neighbour screaming at her child, blowing horns of the passing vehicles, the clattering of the mortar of a scooter when its owner started it, the creaking noise of the brakes of a car, the strong wind smashing my window pane, the rustling of the tree leaves, the occasional thunders, the creaking bell of some hurrying bicycle; all of these seemed so funny and joyous. My mind lost its pain and started playing all by itself, trying to catch every sound that came to it. Believe me. The joy was ecstatic. However, some of these sounds are disturbing. When one is about to fall deep into himself, the sound of neighbours screaming is not just a distraction, but a disturbing one too. For the ultimate peace and meditation, the very first thing that is to be done is to detach oneself from all noise and pollution. And that is preciously the reason why our ancient rishies sought out forests and mountains for their meditation. It must be apparent to all, that true peace and the consequential joy is not to be found in a lounge, but in the Zen gardens.

And of course, there are several other magnificent creations which can give us unbelievable peace and pleasure. Find a quite room, sit down calmly with your eyes closed and let the sweet notes of Mozart or Beethoven sink down deep inside your heart. What else but music can give you sufficient pleasure after a hard days work? Listen deep, and dive into the abyss of meditation. Such pleasures are pleasures which no amount of money can bring you. They are to be discovered and realized. For a few moments, go to your roof and gaze with wonder at the stars. Wipe away from your mind all thoughts and look at them. When I did that, I almost felt their hearts throbbing at the same pace as mine. They were so beautiful. I loved them, and they loved me back. The world has such wonderful things to give us. He, who is sad of trifles and has not loved Nature, is the poorest of all; no matter how much he earns. This brings to my mind the sweet words of John Denver:

And the Colorado rocky mountain high
I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky
I know he'd be a poorer man if he never saw an eagle fly
Rocky mountain high.

- Subhanjan Sengupta
Student of Ramakrishna Mission College, Belur Math.
Doing my graduation in English literature.
If the reader wishes to say something to me, whatever it might be,
he is welcomed to contact me at – il_penseroso@rediffmail.com.

P.S : Though my e-mail ID is such, I am looking for someone who is a la allegro. Nonetheless, anyone is welcome.

Dear Geeta,
I hope all is well with you today, and I wish too, that I could be present to hear you speak.
One day, I do pray we will meet in person.

With love,
~ Kate

The match between USA and Czech Republic is on and the Czech have gained a one goal lead with the help of a Koller header as soon as the game started.

Cheers!
Navin

Swear You Are Nice,

Glad to see you also broke thru! You might easily

feel like a regular, also. As far as I'm concerned ya'r!

Are you in college down yonder Texas way?

Approximate age would be nice,

and I need to know if you're married.

Wouldn't want to piss off any husbands, that's why.

Not that I won't converse with "taken" women,

don't get me wrong. I know they have brains, too!

And feelings...up and down and all over the place!

Not Me2, no, no, no! I am completely steadfast...

at least up until breakfast. Then???

Till next time, I'll be seein' ya, I swear! Keith

Kate, yes we must meet one day. If I happen to visit Florida I will let you know. Take care dear angel. God bless.

Swear, I am all right I think. Burning bulbs, and getting shock when I open any metal door, especially car door, are old stories. Last night I burnt 3 bulbs in the kitchen. I felt a little frustrated, because I had to change them. So I wanted find out the reason for it. It is great to have a wise, and wonderful man like David on the blog. He is so kind, considerate, and helpful. He is a psychic too. I really like psychics.

Don't worry about me. I am fine. You are a sweet heart. You Swear, take care of yourself. How was your vrat last Friday?? Lots of love to you dear cyber niece. May you always have the blessings of the DIVINE MOTHER. Do not hesitate to ask me if you need anything. If I can I will help you.

Dearest Geeta,
I am planning a visit, to the D.C. area, and do wish I could make a side day trip into West Virginia. I would so enjoy meeting you.

It has poured buckets of rain on and off this afternoon, and gusty wind has pushed against the window where I am writing just now.

My Mother is calling for me and I must go home soon. To be back in her arms for a warm embrace, will be heavenly.

With love,
~ Kate

Dara Dear,

I can't rightly remember if you ever play on O.T.

So I'm a hopin' ya see this. I can't be so presumptuous,

as to expect too intimate an answer to my questions.

I don't believe it's prying and I'm no identity thief!

I prefer to know gender, appx. age, appx. whereabouts,

appx. birthplace, single/divoriced/gay/etc.,

optional be; race, religion, political affinities,

or not, children, music tastes, hobbies, sports,

ya know? That sort...

If someone were sitting across the table from me,

whom I had just met, I would ask and listen as much as possible.

People love, generally...to talk about themselves.

Don't ya think? The rest have some kinds of secrets,

if they wish to share, I swear I won't blab off!

The choices are now open. May free-will reign! Keith

King David the 9th,

You are now SAFE!!!

You took an oath,

paybacks are a female dog!

#154...#1 and #2...

I await your reply.

No further questions,

Your Honor.

MeNeither

West Indies v India, 2nd Test, St Lucia, 3rd day

West Indies face daunting task ahead

The Bulletin by Anand Vasu

June 12, 2006

West Indies 215 and 43 for 1 trail India 588 for 8 dec by 330 runs
Scorecard and ball-by-ball details
How they were out

Anil Kumble had many occasions for his fist-pumping celebration © Getty Images

India's inexorable march in the second Test was checked only by a Gros Islet-special brief thundershower and Brian Lara elevating himself to No.3 in West Indies' second innings. India skittled out West Indies for just 215, enforced the follow-on and had them on the run at 43 for 1, still 330 behind at stumps on the third day. It was a day when India's bowlers incessantly kept the pressure on, and the wickets came as quickly as you could expect on a pitch that was still not unplayable.

When the day began India certainly had the upper hand, but no illusions that they could simply brush the opposition aside. The pitch had a hint of uneven bounce, and afforded lateral movement, but neither with sufficient intensity nor regularity to foretell a rout. Chris Gayle and Shivnarine Chanderpaul were the key, both individually and collectively, just as runscoring, in tandem with occupation of the crease, was West Indies' only shot at salvation.

When Anil Kumble bounded in for his first over, bang on target, the ball dipping late, pitching in line, forcing the batsman to play, it was obvious that it was a case of when, rather than if, a wicket would fall. To their credit Chanderpaul and Gayle hung around for a while. Chanderpaul has been in good nick and was remarkably fluent given the situation and conditions, but Gayle struggled to even add to his overnight score, finally managing a slashed boundary over gully.

For a time Gayle was held on a tight leash by the bowlers and his reaction was predictable - a powerful yet premeditated and chancy heave over midwicket for six. Kumble did not enjoy being treated that way, and two balls later had his fist-pumping revenge, as he induced a prod that resulted in an edge to Mahendra Dhoni. Gayle had made 46 in a partnership with Chanderpaul that lasted 23.3 overs.

With Gayle gone in the very first session, the workload on Chanderpaul increased exponentially, but on the day he was not up to the task. Chanderpaul fell right over a full one from Irfan Pathan and could not get bat around pad in time to stop the ball from crashing into the pad bang in front of the stumps, and a second wicket had fallen on with the score on 106.

With one eye on the horizon - not so much for the beautiful hillocks that dot the region, but for the dark clouds occasionally threatening to stop play - Rahul Dravid had little option but to enforce the follow-on if the opportunity arose, and therefore ensured that none of the fast bowlers operated in long spells. It paid off well for him. The bowlers simply needed to put the ball in the right areas and wait, given that West Indies' lower-order batsmen were in no position to bat normally with an aim to scoring runs.

Chris Gayle: in both innings never really managed to free the shackles © Getty Images

Dwayne Bravo, the last recognised batsman, and Denesh Ramdin, a more than handy bat, stood between India and the tail for 61 runs. Kumble got a quick one to turn from leg and a squared-up Bravo could only edge to Dravid at slip, who stayed low and took a good catch. Ramdin succumbed soon after, driving at a wide one from Patel and could only spear an outside edge which Dhoni caught, diving to his right. At 178 for 7 India were into the tail, and Dravid threw the ball to Virender Sehwag.

Sehwag, loping in lazily, not hesitating to round the stumps, got the ball to drift in beautifully and turn away, and ensured that India did not regret not playing an extra spinner. His crafty offspin was too much for the tail, and he bagged the last three wickets to fall, including an athletic effort when he leapt to his right and snatched a one-handed caught-and-bowled to dismiss Ian Bradshaw and end the West Indian innings on 215. The 373 lead was India's highest ever lead outside the subcontinent, bettering the 355 in Headingley in 2002, the second highest overseas, and the fourth highest in all Tests.

West Indies then got off to the worst possible start in their second dig, with Gayle departing in the first over of the innings. Pathan got the ball to swing rightaway and Gayle's forward prod, feet rooted to the crease, only resulted in a thin edge to Dhoni. At 2 for 1 West Indies were in deep trouble, and out walked Lara, promoting himself up the order to face the challenge square on. His obvious class and vast experience was just what West Indies needed. He was able to blunt the early threat posed by Pathan and Patel, both of whom were swinging the ball, and also that of Kumble, who was brought on in the 15th over. Daren Ganga kept Lara good company when finally bad light and rain brought them respite at the end of the third day's play.

Keith: I just sent you all the answers, and secrets to the Universe--telepathically--didn't you "hear me!"

Just teasing, Geeta gives me too much credit--when it is actually of all you that are hardwired, through the mid-brain, with psychic abilities.

A bit tired at the moment, just wanted to say "hey," and taunt you some more--will write soon, and have a fun one to tell Geeta, when I "see" the words come to me. Your friend, Dave

I thank you North for the inspiration you radiate towards me. I do not know whether I deserve that or not. But I will try my best to lead the kind of life I dream to live. It is not the kind spent on cocktails beside a swiming pool; it is a much more meaningful life where I live not just for myself, but for all those whom I love and care, and for all the subalterns squashed like insects by the authority of the privelaged. What do you think of life?

Thank you North for the inspiration you have radiated towards me. I do not know whether I deserve it or not. But I will try to lead my life the way I dream life to be. It is not the kind of life spent on a cocktail beside a swimming pool; it is a much more meaningful life that I dream of. It is the kind of life where I can experience my passions to their utmost level; the kind of life where I care not just for myself but for all those whom I love and care for, and for all those subalterns who are squashed like insects by the authority of the privelaged. What do you think of life?

16th January, 2006

( A treasure of an experience that a group of graduates had while living in a hostel )

I heard something today that had set me thinking a lot.

For a few days, there was a much exciting issue talked about among us . And the subject
of the issue was a beautiful jewellery case – looking exactly likely a rose – that was seen
the table of our superintendent Maharaj. It was, no doubt, a gift. And most certainly, not
from a girl, because he was a monk. Thus, a matter generated high curiosity in the air.
Some boys started having fun with Maharaj about the gift; asking him again and again
of the name of the girl who had given it to him. And Maharaj kept smiling at our
childishness. But there are always some people who take things beyond limits. When
Maharaj was not in his room, someone had gone in, played fool with the rose, and broke
it. We came to know this when Maharaj said this in the prayer hall. But what he said after
that, is something that I would never forget.

After the prayer was over, Maharaj, in his usual low voice, adviced us not to go in his
Room in his absence and touch anything we liked. Then he said, “There are certain things
that you boys must learn. One should never go in someone’s room in his absence. I have
to tell you something which I had never wanted to tell. But I think I have to, in order to
stop you from committing the same blunder again.

“Have all of you read the short story ‘kabuliwallah’ written by Tagore? There is a small
girl in the story. Her name is Mini. Isn’t it?

“My brother has a daughter, whose name too is Mini. The day I left home to become a
Monk, was her birthday. I remember her to be a very small girl then. I can still remember
her so clearly. She was such a cute, little girl. But I had to go that day. I was determined
to be a monk. Many years have passed, about nine years. But I still remember that
beautiful day. I do not know how she looks now, how tall she has grown up to, and how
well she is. She is surely a big girl by now. It had been a long time. But every year, I
make it a point to send her a letter on her birthday. Every year. It had been years since I
saw her last birthday, while I was leaving her. But I still send her a letter every year,
wishing her a happy birthday. And sometimes, she too sends me a letter. This time my
brother came to meet me. And he gave me a gift sent by her. She had sent me that rose.
And someone among you had broken it.”

These words had rendered the entire prayer hall silent, and had sent a powerful current of
pain running down my heart.

He seemed to be hardly moved to emotion, though he was surely, as most humans are, deeply moved in his heart. And then he said, “The rose is immaterial. What I wanted to say was that you should not touch anything in my room without my permission. Now you may all disperse. Go and study.”

I do not know whether Maharaj had cried or not when he had found the rose-like case to be broken. But had I been in his place, I would have wept a hell lot. We are blessed enough to have a person with us, who talks to us with a big smile on his face, inspite of knowing well of what we had done to him. There is one question that will always hunt me whenever this evening will come to my mind: How did he feel when we asked him for his permission to let us go home, to our near and dear ones?

- Subhanjan Sengupta
Student of Ramakrishna Mission College, Belur Math.
Doing his graduation in English literature.
If the reader wishes to say something to the author, whatever it might be,
he is welcomed to contact the author at – il_penseroso@rediffmail.com.

16th January, 2006

( A treasure of an experience that a group of graduates had while living in a hostel )

I heard something today that had set me thinking a lot.

For a few days, there was a much exciting issue talked about among us . And the subject
of the issue was a beautiful jewellery case – looking exactly likely a rose – that was seen
the table of our superintendent Maharaj. It was, no doubt, a gift. And most certainly, not
from a girl, because he was a monk. Thus, a matter generated high curiosity in the air.
Some boys started having fun with Maharaj about the gift; asking him again and again
of the name of the girl who had given it to him. And Maharaj kept smiling at our
childishness. But there are always some people who take things beyond limits. When
Maharaj was not in his room, someone had gone in, played fool with the rose, and broke
it. We came to know this when Maharaj said this in the prayer hall. But what he said after
that, is something that I would never forget.

After the prayer was over, Maharaj, in his usual low voice, adviced us not to go in his
Room in his absence and touch anything we liked. Then he said, “There are certain things
that you boys must learn. One should never go in someone’s room in his absence. I have
to tell you something which I had never wanted to tell. But I think I have to, in order to
stop you from committing the same blunder again.

“Have all of you read the short story ‘kabuliwallah’ written by Tagore? There is a small
girl in the story. Her name is Mini. Isn’t it?

“My brother has a daughter, whose name too is Mini. The day I left home to become a
Monk, was her birthday. I remember her to be a very small girl then. I can still remember
her so clearly. She was such a cute, little girl. But I had to go that day. I was determined
to be a monk. Many years have passed, about nine years. But I still remember that
beautiful day. I do not know how she looks now, how tall she has grown up to, and how
well she is. She is surely a big girl by now. It had been a long time. But every year, I
make it a point to send her a letter on her birthday. Every year. It had been years since I
saw her last birthday, while I was leaving her. But I still send her a letter every year,
wishing her a happy birthday. And sometimes, she too sends me a letter. This time my
brother came to meet me. And he gave me a gift sent by her. She had sent me that rose.
And someone among you had broken it.”

These words had rendered the entire prayer hall silent, and had sent a powerful current of
pain running down my heart.

He seemed to be hardly moved to emotion, though he was surely, as most humans are, deeply moved in his heart. And then he said, “The rose is immaterial. What I wanted to say was that you should not touch anything in my room without my permission. Now you may all disperse. Go and study.”

I do not know whether Maharaj had cried or not when he had found the rose-like case to be broken. But had I been in his place, I would have wept a hell lot. We are blessed enough to have a person with us, who talks to us with a big smile on his face, inspite of knowing well of what we had done to him. There is one question that will always hunt me whenever this evening will come to my mind: How did he feel when we asked him for his permission to let us go home, to our near and dear ones?

- Subhanjan Sengupta
Student of Ramakrishna Mission College, Belur Math.
Doing his graduation in English literature.
If the reader wishes to say something to the author, whatever it might be,
he is welcomed to contact the author at – il_penseroso@rediffmail.com.

Dear Subhanjan Sengupta, thankyou for your reply and your email-how did you get my EM addy?

I have enjoyed reading your stories; and see you are an English Literature Graduate!! wow! Congratulations, and all the best in your future endeavors, Subhanjan!!

Thankyou as well, for the compliments in your email regarding my artwork; this is something which gives me great calm and pleasure to create.

Welcome to IntentBlog; I am sure you will find lots of inspiration here Subhanjan.

North

Dear North, it is interesting to note that you have responded to my posts. This shows that you are probably the only one visiting this blog who has enough patience to go through the long posts of mine. And paitience, my friend, is an important virtue. After all you are a graphic designer - the kind of job that demands considerable patience. I am glad that you have patience.

I believe, that all that I have posted till now is considerably important, though they are long. And I am glad that you have noticed them. Probably most visitors to this IntentBlog are not interested to go through such deeply thought-provoking stuff. I am not blowing my own trumpets. I really believe that my poasts are capable enough to set a man or woman thinking. And that is precisely because all that I have written has been said by sages and philosophers throughout ages. I am just a lay and ordinary man who tries to follow and propagate what the great masters had said. It depends on the rest of the world to pay heed to such imporant things. I can not change the world. At the best I can only try to display what a good life demands. It is the same as what you try to tell others : "I've learned that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved. The rest is up to them."

Nonetheless, I believe you are a serious and inquisitive person. Here is a nice story for you. It is written by Somerset Maugham. I hope you have heard his name. Copy it from here and paste it somewhere on your hard disk. Read it and post me your thoughts. I would also love to receive e-mails from you; serious, thought-provoking and intimate mails.

Happy Reading!

Salvatore

by,
William Somerset Maugham

I wonder if I can do it.

I knew Salvatore first when he was a boy of fifteen with a pleasant face, a laughing mouth and care-free eyes. He used to spend the morning lying about the beach with next to nothing on and his brown body was as thin as a rail. He was full of grace. He was in and out of the sea all the time swimming with the clumsy, effortless stroke common to the fisher folk.
Scrambling up the jagged rocks on his hard feet, for except on Sundays never wore shoes, he would throw himself into the deep water with a scream of delight. His father was a fisherman who owned his own little vineyard and Salvatore acted as nursemaid to his two younger brothers. He shouted to them to come inshore when they ventured out too far and made them dress when it was time to climb the hot, vineclad hill for the frugal midday meal.
But boys in those Southern parts grow apace and in a little while he was madly in love with a pretty girl who lived on the Grande Marina1. She had eyes like forest pools and held herself like a daughter of the Caesars. They were affianced, but they could not marry till Salvatore had done his military service, and when he left the island which he had never left in his life before, to become a sailor in the navy of King Victor Emmanuel, he wept like a child. It was hard for one who had never been less free than the birds to be at the beck and call of others, it was harder still to live in a battleship with strangers instead of in a little white cottage among the vines; and when he was ashore, to walk in noisy, friendless cities with streets so crowded that he was frightened to cross them, when he had been used to silent paths and the mountains and the sea. I suppose it had never struck him that Ischia, which he looked at every evening (it was like a fairy island in the sunset) to see what the weather would be like next day, or Vesuvius, pearly in the dawn, had anything to do with him at all; but when he ceased to have them before his eyes he realized in some dim fashion that they were as much part of him as his hands and his feet. He was dreadfully homesick. But it was hardest of all to be parted from the girl he loved with all his passionate young heart. He wrote to her (in his childlike handwriting) long, ill-spelt letters in which he told her how constantly he thought of her and how much he longed to be back. He was sent here and there, to Spezzia, to Venice, to Ban and finally to China. Here he fell ill of some mysterious ailment that kept him in hospital for months. He bore it with the mute and uncomprehending patience of a dog. When he learnt that it was a form of rheumatism that made him unfit for further service his heart exulted, for he could go home; and he did not bother, in fact he scarcely listened, when the doctors told him that he would never again be quite well. What did he care when he was going back to the little island he loved so well and the girl who was waiting for him?
When he got into the rowing-boat that met the steamer from Naples and was rowed ashore he saw his father and mother standing on the jetty and his two brothers, big boys now, and he waved to them. His eyes searched among the crowd that waited there, for the girl. He could not see her. There was a great deal of kissing when he jumped up the steps and they all, emotional creatures, cried a little when they exchanged their greetings. He asked where the girl was. His mother told him that she did not know; they had not seen her for two or three weeks; so in the evening when the moon was shining over the placid sea and the lights of Naples twinkled in the distance he walked down to the Grande Marina to her house. She was sitting on the doorstep with her mother. He was a little shy because he had not seen her for so long. He asked her if she had not received the letter that he had written to her to say that he was coming home. Yes, they had received a letter, and they had been told by another of the island boys that he was ill. Yes, that was why he was back; was it not a piece of luck? Oh, but they had heard that he would never be quite well again. The doctor talked a lot of nonsense, but he knew very well that now he was home again he would recover. They were silent for a little, and then the mother nudged the girl. She did not try to soften the blow. She told him straight out, with the blunt directness of her race that she could not marry a man who would never be strong enough to work like a man. They had made up their minds, her mother and father and she, and her father would never give consent.
When Salvatore went home he found that they all knew. The girl's father had been to tell them what they had decided, but they had lacked the courage to tell him themselves. He wept on his mother's bosom. He was terribly unhappy, but he did not blame the girl. A fisherman's life is hard and it needs strength and endurance. He knew very well that a girl could not afford to marry a man who might not be able to support her. His smile was very sad and his eyes had the look of a dog that has been beaten, but he did not complain, and he never said a hard word of the girl he had loved so well.
Then, a few months later, when he had settled down to the common round, working in his father's vineyard and fishing, his mother told him that there was a young woman in the village who was willing to marry him. Her name was Assunta.
"She's as ugly as the devil," he said.
She was older than he, twenty-four or twenty-five, and she had been engaged to a man who, while doing his military service, had been killed in Africa. She had a little money of her own and if Salvatore married her she could buy him a boat of his own and they could take a vineyard that by happy chance happened at that moment to be without a tenant. His mother told him that Assunta had seen him at the fiesta and had fallen in love with him. Salvatore smiled his sweet smile and said he would think about it. On the following Sunday, dressed in the stiff black clothes in which he looked so much less well than in the ragged shirt and trousers of every day, he went up to High Mass at the parish church and placed himself so that he could have a good look at the young woman. When he came down again he told his mother that he was willing.
Well, they were married and they settled down in a tiny white-washed house in the middle of a handsome vineyard. Salvatore was now a great, big husky fellow, tall and broad, but still with that ingenuous smile and those trusting, kindly eyes that he had as a boy. He had the most beautiful manners I have ever seen in my life. Assunta was a grim-visaged female, with decided features, and she looked old for her years. But she had a good heart and she was no fool. I used to be amused by the little smile of devotion that she gave her husband when he was being very masculine and masterful; she never ceased to be touched by his gentle sweetness. But she could not bear the girl who had thrown him over, and notwithstanding Salvatore's smiling expostulations she had nothing but harsh words for her. Presently children were bom to them.
It was a hard enough life. All through the fishing season towards evening he set out in his boat with one of his brothers for the fishing grounds. It was a long pull of six or seven miles, and he spent the night catching the profitable cuttlefish. Then there was the long row back again in order to sell the catch in time for it to go on the early boat to Naples. At other times he was working in his vineyard from dawn till the heat drove him to rest and then again, when it was a trifle cooler, till dusk. Often his rheumatism prevented him from doing anything at all and then he would lie about the beach, smoking cigarettes, with a pleasant word for everyone notwithstanding the pain that racked his limbs. The foreigners who came down to bathe and saw him there said that these Italian fishermen were lazy devils.
Sometimes he used to bring his children down to give them a bath. They were both boys and at this time the elder was three and the younger less than two. They sprawled about at the water's edge stark naked and Salvatore standing on a rock would dip them in the water. The elder one bore it with stoicism, but the baby screamed lustily. Salvatore had enormous hands, like legs of mutton, coarse and hard from constant toil, but when he bathed his children, holding them so tenderly, drying them with delicate care, upon my word they were like flowers. He would seat the naked baby on the palm of his hand and hold him up, laughing a little at his smallness, and his laugh was like the laughter of an angel. His eyes then were as candid as his child's.
I started by saying that I wondered if I could do it and now I must tell you what it is that I have tried to do. I wanted to see whether I could hold your attention for a few pages while I drew for you the portrait of a man, just an ordinary fisherman who possessed nothing in the world except a quality which is the rarest, the most precious and the loveliest that anyone can have. Heaven only knows why he should so strangely and unexpectedly have possessed it. All I know is that it shone in him with a radiance that, if it had not been unconscious and so humble, would have been to the common run of men hardly bearable. And in case you have not guessed what the quality was, I will tell you. Goodness, just goodness.

Did you like it?
Keep writing.

Dear North, it is interesting to note that you have responded to my posts. This shows that you are probably the only one visiting this blog who has enough patience to go through the long posts of mine. And paitience, my friend, is an important virtue. After all you are a graphic designer - the kind of job that demands considerable patience. I am glad that you have patience.

I believe, that all that I have posted till now is considerably important, though they are long. And I am glad that you have noticed them. Probably most visitors to this IntentBlog are not interested to go through such deeply thought-provoking stuff. I am not blowing my own trumpets. I really believe that my poasts are capable enough to set a man or woman thinking. And that is precisely because all that I have written has been said by sages and philosophers throughout ages. I am just a lay and ordinary man who tries to follow and propagate what the great masters had said. It depends on the rest of the world to pay heed to such imporant things. I can not change the world. At the best I can only try to display what a good life demands. It is the same as what you try to tell others : "I've learned that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved. The rest is up to them."

Nonetheless, I believe you are a serious and inquisitive person. Here is a nice story for you. It is written by Somerset Maugham. I hope you have heard his name. Copy it from here and paste it somewhere on your hard disk. Read it and post me your thoughts. I would also love to receive e-mails from you; serious, thought-provoking and intimate mails.

Happy Reading!

Salvatore

by,
William Somerset Maugham

I wonder if I can do it.

I knew Salvatore first when he was a boy of fifteen with a pleasant face, a laughing mouth and care-free eyes. He used to spend the morning lying about the beach with next to nothing on and his brown body was as thin as a rail. He was full of grace. He was in and out of the sea all the time swimming with the clumsy, effortless stroke common to the fisher folk.
Scrambling up the jagged rocks on his hard feet, for except on Sundays never wore shoes, he would throw himself into the deep water with a scream of delight. His father was a fisherman who owned his own little vineyard and Salvatore acted as nursemaid to his two younger brothers. He shouted to them to come inshore when they ventured out too far and made them dress when it was time to climb the hot, vineclad hill for the frugal midday meal.
But boys in those Southern parts grow apace and in a little while he was madly in love with a pretty girl who lived on the Grande Marina1. She had eyes like forest pools and held herself like a daughter of the Caesars. They were affianced, but they could not marry till Salvatore had done his military service, and when he left the island which he had never left in his life before, to become a sailor in the navy of King Victor Emmanuel, he wept like a child. It was hard for one who had never been less free than the birds to be at the beck and call of others, it was harder still to live in a battleship with strangers instead of in a little white cottage among the vines; and when he was ashore, to walk in noisy, friendless cities with streets so crowded that he was frightened to cross them, when he had been used to silent paths and the mountains and the sea. I suppose it had never struck him that Ischia, which he looked at every evening (it was like a fairy island in the sunset) to see what the weather would be like next day, or Vesuvius, pearly in the dawn, had anything to do with him at all; but when he ceased to have them before his eyes he realized in some dim fashion that they were as much part of him as his hands and his feet. He was dreadfully homesick. But it was hardest of all to be parted from the girl he loved with all his passionate young heart. He wrote to her (in his childlike handwriting) long, ill-spelt letters in which he told her how constantly he thought of her and how much he longed to be back. He was sent here and there, to Spezzia, to Venice, to Ban and finally to China. Here he fell ill of some mysterious ailment that kept him in hospital for months. He bore it with the mute and uncomprehending patience of a dog. When he learnt that it was a form of rheumatism that made him unfit for further service his heart exulted, for he could go home; and he did not bother, in fact he scarcely listened, when the doctors told him that he would never again be quite well. What did he care when he was going back to the little island he loved so well and the girl who was waiting for him?
When he got into the rowing-boat that met the steamer from Naples and was rowed ashore he saw his father and mother standing on the jetty and his two brothers, big boys now, and he waved to them. His eyes searched among the crowd that waited there, for the girl. He could not see her. There was a great deal of kissing when he jumped up the steps and they all, emotional creatures, cried a little when they exchanged their greetings. He asked where the girl was. His mother told him that she did not know; they had not seen her for two or three weeks; so in the evening when the moon was shining over the placid sea and the lights of Naples twinkled in the distance he walked down to the Grande Marina to her house. She was sitting on the doorstep with her mother. He was a little shy because he had not seen her for so long. He asked her if she had not received the letter that he had written to her to say that he was coming home. Yes, they had received a letter, and they had been told by another of the island boys that he was ill. Yes, that was why he was back; was it not a piece of luck? Oh, but they had heard that he would never be quite well again. The doctor talked a lot of nonsense, but he knew very well that now he was home again he would recover. They were silent for a little, and then the mother nudged the girl. She did not try to soften the blow. She told him straight out, with the blunt directness of her race that she could not marry a man who would never be strong enough to work like a man. They had made up their minds, her mother and father and she, and her father would never give consent.
When Salvatore went home he found that they all knew. The girl's father had been to tell them what they had decided, but they had lacked the courage to tell him themselves. He wept on his mother's bosom. He was terribly unhappy, but he did not blame the girl. A fisherman's life is hard and it needs strength and endurance. He knew very well that a girl could not afford to marry a man who might not be able to support her. His smile was very sad and his eyes had the look of a dog that has been beaten, but he did not complain, and he never said a hard word of the girl he had loved so well.
Then, a few months later, when he had settled down to the common round, working in his father's vineyard and fishing, his mother told him that there was a young woman in the village who was willing to marry him. Her name was Assunta.
"She's as ugly as the devil," he said.
She was older than he, twenty-four or twenty-five, and she had been engaged to a man who, while doing his military service, had been killed in Africa. She had a little money of her own and if Salvatore married her she could buy him a boat of his own and they could take a vineyard that by happy chance happened at that moment to be without a tenant. His mother told him that Assunta had seen him at the fiesta and had fallen in love with him. Salvatore smiled his sweet smile and said he would think about it. On the following Sunday, dressed in the stiff black clothes in which he looked so much less well than in the ragged shirt and trousers of every day, he went up to High Mass at the parish church and placed himself so that he could have a good look at the young woman. When he came down again he told his mother that he was willing.
Well, they were married and they settled down in a tiny white-washed house in the middle of a handsome vineyard. Salvatore was now a great, big husky fellow, tall and broad, but still with that ingenuous smile and those trusting, kindly eyes that he had as a boy. He had the most beautiful manners I have ever seen in my life. Assunta was a grim-visaged female, with decided features, and she looked old for her years. But she had a good heart and she was no fool. I used to be amused by the little smile of devotion that she gave her husband when he was being very masculine and masterful; she never ceased to be touched by his gentle sweetness. But she could not bear the girl who had thrown him over, and notwithstanding Salvatore's smiling expostulations she had nothing but harsh words for her. Presently children were bom to them.
It was a hard enough life. All through the fishing season towards evening he set out in his boat with one of his brothers for the fishing grounds. It was a long pull of six or seven miles, and he spent the night catching the profitable cuttlefish. Then there was the long row back again in order to sell the catch in time for it to go on the early boat to Naples. At other times he was working in his vineyard from dawn till the heat drove him to rest and then again, when it was a trifle cooler, till dusk. Often his rheumatism prevented him from doing anything at all and then he would lie about the beach, smoking cigarettes, with a pleasant word for everyone notwithstanding the pain that racked his limbs. The foreigners who came down to bathe and saw him there said that these Italian fishermen were lazy devils.
Sometimes he used to bring his children down to give them a bath. They were both boys and at this time the elder was three and the younger less than two. They sprawled about at the water's edge stark naked and Salvatore standing on a rock would dip them in the water. The elder one bore it with stoicism, but the baby screamed lustily. Salvatore had enormous hands, like legs of mutton, coarse and hard from constant toil, but when he bathed his children, holding them so tenderly, drying them with delicate care, upon my word they were like flowers. He would seat the naked baby on the palm of his hand and hold him up, laughing a little at his smallness, and his laugh was like the laughter of an angel. His eyes then were as candid as his child's.
I started by saying that I wondered if I could do it and now I must tell you what it is that I have tried to do. I wanted to see whether I could hold your attention for a few pages while I drew for you the portrait of a man, just an ordinary fisherman who possessed nothing in the world except a quality which is the rarest, the most precious and the loveliest that anyone can have. Heaven only knows why he should so strangely and unexpectedly have possessed it. All I know is that it shone in him with a radiance that, if it had not been unconscious and so humble, would have been to the common run of men hardly bearable. And in case you have not guessed what the quality was, I will tell you. Goodness, just goodness.

Did you like it?
Keep writing.

Dear Subhanjan, you have beaten me to the quick; and apparently know "of me" and I, not of you? I sense a familiarity about you; a jump-start intuitiveness on my part, perhaps?

Indeed, Subhanjan, it takes a great deal of tapping the internal/eternal flame; to be able to create a picture; be the picture have a story or not; is quite irrelevant; as it is the vision "unknown" yet, to the world; which is the most desired to be captured by all, whom create any "thing."

Like writing. Heather was correct in her statement that writing well, is not an easy thing to do. Because it is "language" itself, which can pit man against man; brother against brother; and all due to "mal-communication" with words as our only communicative tool.

I suppose, this is what inspired me to read your long post. I've always enjoyed good writing; good writing can whisk a person into a nightmare, or into a fairy tale-what a gift to have and share, or exploit to one's personal desire!!

I should like to venture into deep discussions with you as well; however, I'm obliged elsewhere with my time and energy. My son is off to college soon; and I learned last night, he's lost his ride to move him 500 miles to his accepted college. But, with us not being two, to upset so quickly; we'll find another in time!

I do make time to babble with the rest of the soul's here at Intentblog; but, in all due honesty; my thoughts are like clouds, scattered before me; while underlaying storms brew freely about, to the to and fro; I'm afraid I'd be no match right now, for a high capacity of dialogue required to secure a decent conversation on anything of great importance.

My chores and duties beckon me, as the time I spend here; has permiscuously seduced and prevented my liberty from having them complete.

The timing couldn't be worse for me personally; but I do look forward to some minor rapore with you here, until my thoughts are more clear, to dive into a great conversation on lifes greatest mysteries?

Once again-a hearty welcome to Intentblog, from one, who is extremely stretched for quality time, in north country.

My thoughts on life are so simple. I live to love, love to live, and laugh at adversity with the humour it takes, to over-ride fear and self-pity. What others think of me, has always been quite inconsequential to my well-being. I love people, group-tasking ;and gardening to me, is the ultimate human-to-earth-touch with nature we can possibly do. WE have lost our joy, in feeling mother earth between our fingers; and allowing our nostril's a lingering stay, with the pundgent odour of her perfumed earth.

I believe in love. I believe hate is a cancer of the human spirit.

I believe in personal space.

I miss the almost knieve innocence of the 60's-70's generation; of which I was a child to teen. I love and collect butterfly things, because I resonate with the developement of the human spirit and the butterfly, to be exclusively matched...and they are the delicate creatures on earth.

Being a Mom, has been the greatest experience of my whole life, the most rewarding, to see my son soon leaving for 3-yrs college!!

I must find the balance of my north and south, east and west. Until then, my thoughts are far-scattered.

North

Soccer:

France & Switzerland played to scoreless draw.

For the Swiss, this a moral victory!

For France, they have not scored a goal in the World Cup since 1998 when the beat Brazil at home!

Hi Everyone,
I am dashing now for some loaves of bread. There is a party tomorrow on the Open Thread.
I want to be sure to have enough for everyone who shows up.
Love,
~ Kate

Dear Kate, sounds great, I'll try and make it too!! I'll bring fresh, crispy vegetables of all kinds, and my best veggie crab dip!! soOo yummy, and it's pink in colour! lol

Got my back-room mucked out this afternoon, and half of it is in my kitchen; and no energy left to put it back! I've managed to halve my storaged-stuff; much to my equal chagrin to part with some of it; it must be done, to make way for a lighter load of material things bogging me down!

I've got my son's trunk in the kitchen under the window now; for easy access to fill it with things he needs. whew! so much to do, I need two of me at least!

so Kate, by tomorrow; I will be needing to take a break and picnic with ya'll!! : )

Love, to you and your daughter,
North

Kate Darlin',

I am coming over,too! My bag of goodies is full! I must unload it, again!

I want to hear Lady North tell some more of her trademark funny, tickly bedtime stories. Last time, remembner? she was laffin' so hard, she let out a big snort. I thought it was funny and everyone laughed so hard, the tent almost came apart. So North, what you got cooking, good lookin'?

Whohahahahahahaha........!

Dear North,

Honestly speaking, there is a lot to tell you because your recent post provokes multifarious thoughts. And it also comes to my knowledge that you are a busy working mother. Consequently, from now on, I will try my best to keep my posts a little bit shorter. Forgive me at least for this particular post. It is longer than the others, because I have important things to say to you and your son.

But there is something about you that has bothered me. You are a grown-up woman with a son who is big enough to go to college. That means that you are much older than what I am. I am in my 2nd year in college. To you, I am like a son. But still, though you are such a grown-up, even at this age, you say, “my thoughts are like clouds, scattered before me…”
At this age of mine, I think I am more focused in life than what you are, and my thoughts are not like clouds to be, but as clear and obvious as a bright sunny day. I know what I am like and what are the things that I want in my life and what kind of people I want to mix with.

Why are you in such a dilemma?

Is something bothering you? Or, you are thinking too much?

You see, there must, most definitely, be a balance between intellectual, philosophical, passionate thoughts, and practicality. A purely practical man is a very distasteful and uninteresting man. On the other hand, a purely contemplative man has no space in this world of rat race. One has to fight to make a decent living. When I was much younger, I was more contemplative than what I am now. I used to stay awake till the dead of night, gazing at the stars and loving them to the depth of my heart, and dreamt of becoming an astronaut. I remember to have said one of my friends that I wish I had gone to the jungle at night, away from the city lights, sit down below a tree, and look at the pristine beauty of the stars and the moon from between the leaves and branches looming over me. When he heard this, he almost screamed towards me, “What? You crazy fool! What if a snake comes and bites you? Throw away all those weird thoughts. Someday you are going to cause harm to yourself.” Such a person is terribly unromantic and uninteresting to live with. Whereas, I guarantee, I will make a man, and a woman too, feel really romantic and blissful. But staying with him might have a better insurance of security rather than staying with me. And you know, indeed my friend was right. One day, I would have dropped into an open ditch, because I was strolling on the road at nine in the night with my eyes gazing upwards, mesmerized by the ecstatic beauty of the stars. Someone, noticing that I was about to step into the ditch, screamed and warned me. I was saved. And I never made such mistakes again. Now I try to strike a balance between my intellect and practical wisdom. You might be in a kind of problem same to mine, or may be not. May be you need help, may be not. But I am grateful to encounter a thought-provoking woman like you.

I hope your son gets into a good college. From a mother like you, I believe, He has important things to learn that will make a great man out of him. He is growing up. Consequently, it must be clear to him what he wants in his life. He is going to step into a career after a few years. He must ask himself right now: What is it the he would like to do 365 days a year for several years? He has to know his dreams, and the ways to turn them to reality. I have recently written something regarding career and livelihood. I request you and your son to go through it. Specially your son, because he has a career ahead.

Happy reading!

'The Right Attitude'

A career is a kind of lifestyle that stands on the ideals a person carries with himself throughout his life. The very grassroots of the growth of the ideals, I believe, is the education one receives in his school life, be it from parents or teachers. But the unfortunate thing is that a majority of teachers, irrespective of their ‘degrees’ (which is not the only thing that qualifies one to a good teacher) hardly ever teach the most important things. And by ‘important things’, I mean those principles that eventually do not just enable a student to climb to the pinnacles of success when he goes out to participate in the cut-throat race of the job market, but also imbeds in him ideals that create a good and intellectually escalating man out of him. Fortunately enough, I have encountered in my life one of those few teachers who not only have strong grasps of the subjects they teach, but also try to instill in the students matters which are really consequential regarding one’s career. Others are merely ‘instructors’, not ‘teachers’. Here, I am sharing a few of what I have learnt from him, what has inspired me to go on pursuing my dreams, and what, I believe, will do the same for several other students who need counseling regarding their careers.

What is that I would love to do? – an inevitable question in the mind of a true careerist. Others are more bothered about the mere weight of the pay packets that a firm offers. The trend, quite disconcertingly, is entirely alienated from any intention to realise what is there in the job market, which one would really love to do one’s entire adult life to earn his living. No wonder, some of the richest and most placed men are some of the most unhappy men on earth. If nothing else, a high-ranking executive of a multinational bank, lamenting before me for being unhappy inspite of having enough to last another generation after him, has convinced me. No doubt, careful observation would reveal the same thing almost everywhere. Whereas, many men of humble means are happy enough.

The problem lies not in the job, but in one who does not go for it with the right kind of attitude. By right attitude, I mean one’s fondness for a job because one loves to do it. The concerned work is not actually work, but play for him/her. It is this very attitude that is the chief architect of a successful careerist. For developing this attitude, one needs to exercise one’s thoughts and actions in such a way from his very childhood, so as to realise what are the aptitudes that one is in possession of and what are the things that suit one’s tastes. Unfortunately, this is preciously where an overwhelming majority of students go wrong; for which they are not to be blamed, but the common notions of parenthood in reign of our society that deserve the fangs of criticism.

By the time one has finished one’s high school, one must be perfectly clear in one’s mind of what to take up as a major in his/her graduation. In addition, for that, one owes to oneself to find out what sort of talents one does have: a discovery that can be made by devoting one’s entire school life on different kinds of activities from music to writing. Instead of inspiring their children to realise what suits them best, most parents slog throughout the day to make them mug up volumes of notes for the sole purpose of scoring the highest marks in the classroom. Adding to this is the common current myth that school marks show the future. Little does it occur to them that some of the greatest successes in the world had poor reports, like the great physicist, Albert Einstein, and the worlds leading pediatric neurosurgeon, Fred Epstein. School reports are not to be trusted too much. I have seen some of the ‘high-scoring’ boys of school ending up with insignificant and unglamorous jobs after their graduation. However, mere discovery of one’s gifts is not enough. Years of polishing up ones talents makes one shine. In addition, that calls for extreme self-confidence: “I will do it, no matter what happens!” It is the mother of virtues such as a focused mind, a positive approach, patience and perseverance, which are also the keys to success.

To avoid sitting in an office desk doing the job which he had never wanted to do, and feeling unpleasant and bored because he had never built himself up the way he had to in order to do the sort of thing that he would have loved to do, a person must realise early in his student-life that career is not to be made synonymous with job or livelihood. Career is the choosing of a certain lifestyle, not just making a living. Blessed is he who has made a profession out of his hobby. Life, to him, is a passion. Ravi Shankar, M.F. Hussain, Medha Pathkar, and Kiran Bedi, had or have careers with a difference. That is preciously because they have loved their jobs and given their best to their jobs. One of my high-school teachers often adviced me: “Remember, its your life, not to be wasted on trifles, nor on something that ‘everybody’ (which usually means only parents and a few relatives and neighbours) wants you to do.”

In addition to this it must be born in mind that it is not that certain subjects taught in school and college matter and others do not. The truth is that all subjects matter. In some way or the other, all of them aid one to climb to the top. Apart from having a strong grasp of languages and mathematics (the most essential subjects today as there is hardly any well-paid profession where one can do without them), one must widen his domain of general knowledge. From breaking through admission tests and GDs, to beating ones rival, awareness of ‘what is going on in the world’ is something that really matters. That, I believe, demands nothing but only one single thing: reading; endless reading throughout ones life, be it from newspaper packets or WebPages. In addition to this, utilizing the accumulated information for one’s own benefit, and if possible and necessary, for the benefit of others, is bound to escalate one up to the zenith of success.

Anyone can make any career a source of great joy for himself and many other people whose life he influences. It depends entirely on how well he has been able to understand himself, his gifts and his skills. People like Anne Hazare and Rippan Kapur knew well what they were born for, and devoted their all for what they believed worthy to peruse.

Aspiration, I believe firmly, has to be skyscraping. “Ambition is not the vice of little people”, said Montaigne. In case you feel that if you cannot do any good deed by which people will remember you for ages, you have not lived, and consequently desire to do good to the world by eradicating any tormentation of subaltern sects or hierarchical hegemony, bring out a powerfully influencial NGO that will turn the wrong to right. But if it is money that you want, go beyond Microsoft. Bring out a firm that will mature to a multimillion-dollar industry surpassing every other corporate giant. Earning thirty thousand rupees a month, which an overwhelming majority of the middle class considers a heavenly earning, is no earning at all. It is nothing, nothing at all. Be a painter and sell your creations for not less than a crore each. That is what you call the real stuff. Become the owner of a thousand crores. However, that money will come only when you will pursue what you are best at. Be a celebrated personality - an international icon for whom BMW will make a separate car. That is what you call success. Aim high and fight for it. And if you want to have a humble earning so that you can spend much time with your family, being a loving husband and father who sleeps peacefully hugging his dear wife and children, be so. If remaining ordinary with a simple living and giving your all for loving your husband or wife is what you want to do throughout your life, let that be your career. Remember, no firm pays you a lakh a month for lying down beside a pool with a cocktail in hand. They are going to make you work fifteen hours a day, whether you like it or not.

One must always recognize one’s cup of tea. Choose what suits you best. Do not aim beyond your ability, because ambition can be dangerous. Remember Shakespeare:

“Fling away ambition:
By that sin fell the angels.”

By, Subhanjan Sengupta

(The author is an inquisitive and enthusiastic college student of
Ramakrishna Mission Vidyamandira at Belur Math, who is
Willing to indulge in any exchange of discourse on matters
Of socio-economic importance.
His e-mail ID is: il_penseroso@rediffmail.com)

Dear North, I have an important question to ask you. Answer it after you have read “ The Right Attitude”.

DO YOU LOVE YOUR JOB?

Keep writing.
Take care.

Dear North,

Honestly speaking, there is a lot to tell you because your recent post provokes multifarious thoughts. And it also comes to my knowledge that you are a busy working mother. Consequently, from now on, I will try my best to keep my posts a little bit shorter. Forgive me at least for this particular post. It is longer than the others, because I have important things to say to you and your son.

But there is something about you that has bothered me. You are a grown-up woman with a son who is big enough to go to college. That means that you are much older than what I am. I am in my 2nd year in college. To you, I am like a son. But still, though you are such a grown-up, even at this age, you say, “my thoughts are like clouds, scattered before me…”
At this age of mine, I think I am more focused in life than what you are, and my thoughts are not like clouds to be, but as clear and obvious as a bright sunny day. I know what I am like and what are the things that I want in my life and what kind of people I want to mix with.

Why are you in such a dilemma?

Is something bothering you? Or, you are thinking too much?

You see, there must, most definitely, be a balance between intellectual, philosophical, passionate thoughts, and practicality. A purely practical man is a very distasteful and uninteresting man. On the other hand, a purely contemplative man has no space in this world of rat race. One has to fight to make a decent living. When I was much younger, I was more contemplative than what I am now. I used to stay awake till the dead of night, gazing at the stars and loving them to the depth of my heart, and dreamt of becoming an astronaut. I remember to have said one of my friends that I wish I had gone to the jungle at night, away from the city lights, sit down below a tree, and look at the pristine beauty of the stars and the moon from between the leaves and branches looming over me. When he heard this, he almost screamed towards me, “What? You crazy fool! What if a snake comes and bites you? Throw away all those weird thoughts. Someday you are going to cause harm to yourself.” Such a person is terribly unromantic and uninteresting to live with. Whereas, I guarantee, I will make a man, and a woman too, feel really romantic and blissful. But staying with him might have a better insurance of security rather than staying with me. And you know, indeed my friend was right. One day, I would have dropped into an open ditch, because I was strolling on the road at nine in the night with my eyes gazing upwards, mesmerized by the ecstatic beauty of the stars. Someone, noticing that I was about to step into the ditch, screamed and warned me. I was saved. And I never made such mistakes again. Now I try to strike a balance between my intellect and practical wisdom. You might be in a kind of problem same to mine, or may be not. May be you need help, may be not. But I am grateful to encounter a thought-provoking woman like you.

I hope your son gets into a good college. From a mother like you, I believe, He has important things to learn that will make a great man out of him. He is growing up. Consequently, it must be clear to him what he wants in his life. He is going to step into a career after a few years. He must ask himself right now: What is it the he would like to do 365 days a year for several years? He has to know his dreams, and the ways to turn them to reality. I have recently written something regarding career and livelihood. I request you and your son to go through it. Specially your son, because he has a career ahead.

Happy reading!

'The Right Attitude'

A career is a kind of lifestyle that stands on the ideals a person carries with himself throughout his life. The very grassroots of the growth of the ideals, I believe, is the education one receives in his school life, be it from parents or teachers. But the unfortunate thing is that a majority of teachers, irrespective of their ‘degrees’ (which is not the only thing that qualifies one to a good teacher) hardly ever teach the most important things. And by ‘important things’, I mean those principles that eventually do not just enable a student to climb to the pinnacles of success when he goes out to participate in the cut-throat race of the job market, but also imbeds in him ideals that create a good and intellectually escalating man out of him. Fortunately enough, I have encountered in my life one of those few teachers who not only have strong grasps of the subjects they teach, but also try to instill in the students matters which are really consequential regarding one’s career. Others are merely ‘instructors’, not ‘teachers’. Here, I am sharing a few of what I have learnt from him, what has inspired me to go on pursuing my dreams, and what, I believe, will do the same for several other students who need counseling regarding their careers.

What is that I would love to do? – an inevitable question in the mind of a true careerist. Others are more bothered about the mere weight of the pay packets that a firm offers. The trend, quite disconcertingly, is entirely alienated from any intention to realise what is there in the job market, which one would really love to do one’s entire adult life to earn his living. No wonder, some of the richest and most placed men are some of the most unhappy men on earth. If nothing else, a high-ranking executive of a multinational bank, lamenting before me for being unhappy inspite of having enough to last another generation after him, has convinced me. No doubt, careful observation would reveal the same thing almost everywhere. Whereas, many men of humble means are happy enough.

The problem lies not in the job, but in one who does not go for it with the right kind of attitude. By right attitude, I mean one’s fondness for a job because one loves to do it. The concerned work is not actually work, but play for him/her. It is this very attitude that is the chief architect of a successful careerist. For developing this attitude, one needs to exercise one’s thoughts and actions in such a way from his very childhood, so as to realise what are the aptitudes that one is in possession of and what are the things that suit one’s tastes. Unfortunately, this is preciously where an overwhelming majority of students go wrong; for which they are not to be blamed, but the common notions of parenthood in reign of our society that deserve the fangs of criticism.

By the time one has finished one’s high school, one must be perfectly clear in one’s mind of what to take up as a major in his/her graduation. In addition, for that, one owes to oneself to find out what sort of talents one does have: a discovery that can be made by devoting one’s entire school life on different kinds of activities from music to writing. Instead of inspiring their children to realise what suits them best, most parents slog throughout the day to make them mug up volumes of notes for the sole purpose of scoring the highest marks in the classroom. Adding to this is the common current myth that school marks show the future. Little does it occur to them that some of the greatest successes in the world had poor reports, like the great physicist, Albert Einstein, and the worlds leading pediatric neurosurgeon, Fred Epstein. School reports are not to be trusted too much. I have seen some of the ‘high-scoring’ boys of school ending up with insignificant and unglamorous jobs after their graduation. However, mere discovery of one’s gifts is not enough. Years of polishing up ones talents makes one shine. In addition, that calls for extreme self-confidence: “I will do it, no matter what happens!” It is the mother of virtues such as a focused mind, a positive approach, patience and perseverance, which are also the keys to success.

To avoid sitting in an office desk doing the job which he had never wanted to do, and feeling unpleasant and bored because he had never built himself up the way he had to in order to do the sort of thing that he would have loved to do, a person must realise early in his student-life that career is not to be made synonymous with job or livelihood. Career is the choosing of a certain lifestyle, not just making a living. Blessed is he who has made a profession out of his hobby. Life, to him, is a passion. Ravi Shankar, M.F. Hussain, Medha Pathkar, and Kiran Bedi, had or have careers with a difference. That is preciously because they have loved their jobs and given their best to their jobs. One of my high-school teachers often adviced me: “Remember, its your life, not to be wasted on trifles, nor on something that ‘everybody’ (which usually means only parents and a few relatives and neighbours) wants you to do.”

In addition to this it must be born in mind that it is not that certain subjects taught in school and college matter and others do not. The truth is that all subjects matter. In some way or the other, all of them aid one to climb to the top. Apart from having a strong grasp of languages and mathematics (the most essential subjects today as there is hardly any well-paid profession where one can do without them), one must widen his domain of general knowledge. From breaking through admission tests and GDs, to beating ones rival, awareness of ‘what is going on in the world’ is something that really matters. That, I believe, demands nothing but only one single thing: reading; endless reading throughout ones life, be it from newspaper packets or WebPages. In addition to this, utilizing the accumulated information for one’s own benefit, and if possible and necessary, for the benefit of others, is bound to escalate one up to the zenith of success.

Anyone can make any career a source of great joy for himself and many other people whose life he influences. It depends entirely on how well he has been able to understand himself, his gifts and his skills. People like Anne Hazare and Rippan Kapur knew well what they were born for, and devoted their all for what they believed worthy to peruse.

Aspiration, I believe firmly, has to be skyscraping. “Ambition is not the vice of little people”, said Montaigne. In case you feel that if you cannot do any good deed by which people will remember you for ages, you have not lived, and consequently desire to do good to the world by eradicating any tormentation of subaltern sects or hierarchical hegemony, bring out a powerfully influencial NGO that will turn the wrong to right. But if it is money that you want, go beyond Microsoft. Bring out a firm that will mature to a multimillion-dollar industry surpassing every other corporate giant. Earning thirty thousand rupees a month, which an overwhelming majority of the middle class considers a heavenly earning, is no earning at all. It is nothing, nothing at all. Be a painter and sell your creations for not less than a crore each. That is what you call the real stuff. Become the owner of a thousand crores. However, that money will come only when you will pursue what you are best at. Be a celebrated personality - an international icon for whom BMW will make a separate car. That is what you call success. Aim high and fight for it. And if you want to have a humble earning so that you can spend much time with your family, being a loving husband and father who sleeps peacefully hugging his dear wife and children, be so. If remaining ordinary with a simple living and giving your all for loving your husband or wife is what you want to do throughout your life, let that be your career. Remember, no firm pays you a lakh a month for lying down beside a pool with a cocktail in hand. They are going to make you work fifteen hours a day, whether you like it or not.

One must always recognize one’s cup of tea. Choose what suits you best. Do not aim beyond your ability, because ambition can be dangerous. Remember Shakespeare:

“Fling away ambition:
By that sin fell the angels.”

By, Subhanjan Sengupta

(The author is an inquisitive and enthusiastic college student of
Ramakrishna Mission Vidyamandira at Belur Math, who is
Willing to indulge in any exchange of discourse on matters
Of socio-economic importance.
His e-mail ID is: il_penseroso@rediffmail.com)

Dear North, I have an important question to ask you. Answer it after you have read “ The Right Attitude”.

DO YOU LOVE YOUR JOB?

Keep writing.
Take care.

Dear North,

Honestly speaking, there is a lot to tell you because your recent post provokes multifarious thoughts. And it also comes to my knowledge that you are a busy working mother. Consequently, from now on, I will try my best to keep my posts a little bit shorter. Forgive me at least for this particular post. It is longer than the others, because I have important things to say to you and your son.

But there is something about you that has bothered me. You are a grown-up woman with a son who is big enough to go to college. That means that you are much older than what I am. I am in my 2nd year in college. To you, I am like a son. But still, though you are such a grown-up, even at this age, you say, “my thoughts are like clouds, scattered before me…”
At this age of mine, I think I am more focused in life than what you are, and my thoughts are not like clouds to be, but as clear and obvious as a bright sunny day. I know what I am like and what are the things that I want in my life and what kind of people I want to mix with.

Why are you in such a dilemma?

Is something bothering you? Or, you are thinking too much?

You see, there must, most definitely, be a balance between intellectual, philosophical, passionate thoughts, and practicality. A purely practical man is a very distasteful and uninteresting man. On the other hand, a purely contemplative man has no space in this world of rat race. One has to fight to make a decent living. When I was much younger, I was more contemplative than what I am now. I used to stay awake till the dead of night, gazing at the stars and loving them to the depth of my heart, and dreamt of becoming an astronaut. I remember to have said one of my friends that I wish I had gone to the jungle at night, away from the city lights, sit down below a tree, and look at the pristine beauty of the stars and the moon from between the leaves and branches looming over me. When he heard this, he almost screamed towards me, “What? You crazy fool! What if a snake comes and bites you? Throw away all those weird thoughts. Someday you are going to cause harm to yourself.” Such a person is terribly unromantic and uninteresting to live with. Whereas, I guarantee, I will make a man, and a woman too, feel really romantic and blissful. But staying with him might have a better insurance of security rather than staying with me. And you know, indeed my friend was right. One day, I would have dropped into an open ditch, because I was strolling on the road at nine in the night with my eyes gazing upwards, mesmerized by the ecstatic beauty of the stars. Someone, noticing that I was about to step into the ditch, screamed and warned me. I was saved. And I never made such mistakes again. Now I try to strike a balance between my intellect and practical wisdom. You might be in a kind of problem same to mine, or may be not. May be you need help, may be not. But I am grateful to encounter a thought-provoking woman like you.

I hope your son gets into a good college. From a mother like you, I believe, He has important things to learn that will make a great man out of him. He is growing up. Consequently, it must be clear to him what he wants in his life. He is going to step into a career after a few years. He must ask himself right now: What is it the he would like to do 365 days a year for several years? He has to know his dreams, and the ways to turn them to reality. I have recently written something regarding career and livelihood. I request you and your son to go through it. Specially your son, because he has a career ahead.

Happy reading!

'The Right Attitude'

A career is a kind of lifestyle that stands on the ideals a person carries with himself throughout his life. The very grassroots of the growth of the ideals, I believe, is the education one receives in his school life, be it from parents or teachers. But the unfortunate thing is that a majority of teachers, irrespective of their ‘degrees’ (which is not the only thing that qualifies one to a good teacher) hardly ever teach the most important things. And by ‘important things’, I mean those principles that eventually do not just enable a student to climb to the pinnacles of success when he goes out to participate in the cut-throat race of the job market, but also imbeds in him ideals that create a good and intellectually escalating man out of him. Fortunately enough, I have encountered in my life one of those few teachers who not only have strong grasps of the subjects they teach, but also try to instill in the students matters which are really consequential regarding one’s career. Others are merely ‘instructors’, not ‘teachers’. Here, I am sharing a few of what I have learnt from him, what has inspired me to go on pursuing my dreams, and what, I believe, will do the same for several other students who need counseling regarding their careers.

What is that I would love to do? – an inevitable question in the mind of a true careerist. Others are more bothered about the mere weight of the pay packets that a firm offers. The trend, quite disconcertingly, is entirely alienated from any intention to realise what is there in the job market, which one would really love to do one’s entire adult life to earn his living. No wonder, some of the richest and most placed men are some of the most unhappy men on earth. If nothing else, a high-ranking executive of a multinational bank, lamenting before me for being unhappy inspite of having enough to last another generation after him, has convinced me. No doubt, careful observation would reveal the same thing almost everywhere. Whereas, many men of humble means are happy enough.

The problem lies not in the job, but in one who does not go for it with the right kind of attitude. By right attitude, I mean one’s fondness for a job because one loves to do it. The concerned work is not actually work, but play for him/her. It is this very attitude that is the chief architect of a successful careerist. For developing this attitude, one needs to exercise one’s thoughts and actions in such a way from his very childhood, so as to realise what are the aptitudes that one is in possession of and what are the things that suit one’s tastes. Unfortunately, this is preciously where an overwhelming majority of students go wrong; for which they are not to be blamed, but the common notions of parenthood in reign of our society that deserve the fangs of criticism.

By the time one has finished one’s high school, one must be perfectly clear in one’s mind of what to take up as a major in his/her graduation. In addition, for that, one owes to oneself to find out what sort of talents one does have: a discovery that can be made by devoting one’s entire school life on different kinds of activities from music to writing. Instead of inspiring their children to realise what suits them best, most parents slog throughout the day to make them mug up volumes of notes for the sole purpose of scoring the highest marks in the classroom. Adding to this is the common current myth that school marks show the future. Little does it occur to them that some of the greatest successes in the world had poor reports, like the great physicist, Albert Einstein, and the worlds leading pediatric neurosurgeon, Fred Epstein. School reports are not to be trusted too much. I have seen some of the ‘high-scoring’ boys of school ending up with insignificant and unglamorous jobs after their graduation. However, mere discovery of one’s gifts is not enough. Years of polishing up ones talents makes one shine. In addition, that calls for extreme self-confidence: “I will do it, no matter what happens!” It is the mother of virtues such as a focused mind, a positive approach, patience and perseverance, which are also the keys to success.

To avoid sitting in an office desk doing the job which he had never wanted to do, and feeling unpleasant and bored because he had never built himself up the way he had to in order to do the sort of thing that he would have loved to do, a person must realise early in his student-life that career is not to be made synonymous with job or livelihood. Career is the choosing of a certain lifestyle, not just making a living. Blessed is he who has made a profession out of his hobby. Life, to him, is a passion. Ravi Shankar, M.F. Hussain, Medha Pathkar, and Kiran Bedi, had or have careers with a difference. That is preciously because they have loved their jobs and given their best to their jobs. One of my high-school teachers often adviced me: “Remember, its your life, not to be wasted on trifles, nor on something that ‘everybody’ (which usually means only parents and a few relatives and neighbours) wants you to do.”

In addition to this it must be born in mind that it is not that certain subjects taught in school and college matter and others do not. The truth is that all subjects matter. In some way or the other, all of them aid one to climb to the top. Apart from having a strong grasp of languages and mathematics (the most essential subjects today as there is hardly any well-paid profession where one can do without them), one must widen his domain of general knowledge. From breaking through admission tests and GDs, to beating ones rival, awareness of ‘what is going on in the world’ is something that really matters. That, I believe, demands nothing but only one single thing: reading; endless reading throughout ones life, be it from newspaper packets or WebPages. In addition to this, utilizing the accumulated information for one’s own benefit, and if possible and necessary, for the benefit of others, is bound to escalate one up to the zenith of success.

Anyone can make any career a source of great joy for himself and many other people whose life he influences. It depends entirely on how well he has been able to understand himself, his gifts and his skills. People like Anne Hazare and Rippan Kapur knew well what they were born for, and devoted their all for what they believed worthy to peruse.

Aspiration, I believe firmly, has to be skyscraping. “Ambition is not the vice of little people”, said Montaigne. In case you feel that if you cannot do any good deed by which people will remember you for ages, you have not lived, and consequently desire to do good to the world by eradicating any tormentation of subaltern sects or hierarchical hegemony, bring out a powerfully influencial NGO that will turn the wrong to right. But if it is money that you want, go beyond Microsoft. Bring out a firm that will mature to a multimillion-dollar industry surpassing every other corporate giant. Earning thirty thousand rupees a month, which an overwhelming majority of the middle class considers a heavenly earning, is no earning at all. It is nothing, nothing at all. Be a painter and sell your creations for not less than a crore each. That is what you call the real stuff. Become the owner of a thousand crores. However, that money will come only when you will pursue what you are best at. Be a celebrated personality - an international icon for whom BMW will make a separate car. That is what you call success. Aim high and fight for it. And if you want to have a humble earning so that you can spend much time with your family, being a loving husband and father who sleeps peacefully hugging his dear wife and children, be so. If remaining ordinary with a simple living and giving your all for loving your husband or wife is what you want to do throughout your life, let that be your career. Remember, no firm pays you a lakh a month for lying down beside a pool with a cocktail in hand. They are going to make you work fifteen hours a day, whether you like it or not.

One must always recognize one’s cup of tea. Choose what suits you best. Do not aim beyond your ability, because ambition can be dangerous. Remember Shakespeare:

“Fling away ambition:
By that sin fell the angels.”

By, Subhanjan Sengupta

(The author is an inquisitive and enthusiastic college student of
Ramakrishna Mission Vidyamandira at Belur Math, who is
Willing to indulge in any exchange of discourse on matters
Of socio-economic importance.
His e-mail ID is: il_penseroso@rediffmail.com)

Dear North, I have an important question to ask you. Answer it after you have read “ The Right Attitude”.

DO YOU LOVE YOUR JOB?

Keep writing.
Take care.

Dear North,

Honestly speaking, there is a lot to tell you because your recent post provokes multifarious thoughts. And it also comes to my knowledge that you are a busy working mother. Consequently, from now on, I will try my best to keep my posts a little bit shorter. Forgive me at least for this particular post. It is longer than the others, because I have important things to say to you and your son.

But there is something about you that has bothered me. You are a grown-up woman with a son who is big enough to go to college. That means that you are much older than what I am. I am in my 2nd year in college. To you, I am like a son. But still, though you are such a grown-up, even at this age, you say, “my thoughts are like clouds, scattered before me…”
At this age of mine, I think I am more focused in life than what you are, and my thoughts are not like clouds to be, but as clear and obvious as a bright sunny day. I know what I am like and what are the things that I want in my life and what kind of people I want to mix with.

Why are you in such a dilemma?

Is something bothering you? Or, you are thinking too much?

You see, there must, most definitely, be a balance between intellectual, philosophical, passionate thoughts, and practicality. A purely practical man is a very distasteful and uninteresting man. On the other hand, a purely contemplative man has no space in this world of rat race. One has to fight to make a decent living. When I was much younger, I was more contemplative than what I am now. I used to stay awake till the dead of night, gazing at the stars and loving them to the depth of my heart, and dreamt of becoming an astronaut. I remember to have said one of my friends that I wish I had gone to the jungle at night, away from the city lights, sit down below a tree, and look at the pristine beauty of the stars and the moon from between the leaves and branches looming over me. When he heard this, he almost screamed towards me, “What? You crazy fool! What if a snake comes and bites you? Throw away all those weird thoughts. Someday you are going to cause harm to yourself.” Such a person is terribly unromantic and uninteresting to live with. Whereas, I guarantee, I will make a man, and a woman too, feel really romantic and blissful. But staying with him might have a better insurance of security rather than staying with me. And you know, indeed my friend was right. One day, I would have dropped into an open ditch, because I was strolling on the road at nine in the night with my eyes gazing upwards, mesmerized by the ecstatic beauty of the stars. Someone, noticing that I was about to step into the ditch, screamed and warned me. I was saved. And I never made such mistakes again. Now I try to strike a balance between my intellect and practical wisdom. You might be in a kind of problem same to mine, or may be not. May be you need help, may be not. But I am grateful to encounter a thought-provoking woman like you.

I hope your son gets into a good college. From a mother like you, I believe, He has important things to learn that will make a great man out of him. He is growing up. Consequently, it must be clear to him what he wants in his life. He is going to step into a career after a few years. He must ask himself right now: What is it the he would like to do 365 days a year for several years? He has to know his dreams, and the ways to turn them to reality. I have recently written something regarding career and livelihood. I request you and your son to go through it. Specially your son, because he has a career ahead.

Happy reading!

'The Right Attitude'

A career is a kind of lifestyle that stands on the ideals a person carries with himself throughout his life. The very grassroots of the growth of the ideals, I believe, is the education one receives in his school life, be it from parents or teachers. But the unfortunate thing is that a majority of teachers, irrespective of their ‘degrees’ (which is not the only thing that qualifies one to a good teacher) hardly ever teach the most important things. And by ‘important things’, I mean those principles that eventually do not just enable a student to climb to the pinnacles of success when he goes out to participate in the cut-throat race of the job market, but also imbeds in him ideals that create a good and intellectually escalating man out of him. Fortunately enough, I have encountered in my life one of those few teachers who not only have strong grasps of the subjects they teach, but also try to instill in the students matters which are really consequential regarding one’s career. Others are merely ‘instructors’, not ‘teachers’. Here, I am sharing a few of what I have learnt from him, what has inspired me to go on pursuing my dreams, and what, I believe, will do the same for several other students who need counseling regarding their careers.

What is that I would love to do? – an inevitable question in the mind of a true careerist. Others are more bothered about the mere weight of the pay packets that a firm offers. The trend, quite disconcertingly, is entirely alienated from any intention to realise what is there in the job market, which one would really love to do one’s entire adult life to earn his living. No wonder, some of the richest and most placed men are some of the most unhappy men on earth. If nothing else, a high-ranking executive of a multinational bank, lamenting before me for being unhappy inspite of having enough to last another generation after him, has convinced me. No doubt, careful observation would reveal the same thing almost everywhere. Whereas, many men of humble means are happy enough.

The problem lies not in the job, but in one who does not go for it with the right kind of attitude. By right attitude, I mean one’s fondness for a job because one loves to do it. The concerned work is not actually work, but play for him/her. It is this very attitude that is the chief architect of a successful careerist. For developing this attitude, one needs to exercise one’s thoughts and actions in such a way from his very childhood, so as to realise what are the aptitudes that one is in possession of and what are the things that suit one’s tastes. Unfortunately, this is preciously where an overwhelming majority of students go wrong; for which they are not to be blamed, but the common notions of parenthood in reign of our society that deserve the fangs of criticism.

By the time one has finished one’s high school, one must be perfectly clear in one’s mind of what to take up as a major in his/her graduation. In addition, for that, one owes to oneself to find out what sort of talents one does have: a discovery that can be made by devoting one’s entire school life on different kinds of activities from music to writing. Instead of inspiring their children to realise what suits them best, most parents slog throughout the day to make them mug up volumes of notes for the sole purpose of scoring the highest marks in the classroom. Adding to this is the common current myth that school marks show the future. Little does it occur to them that some of the greatest successes in the world had poor reports, like the great physicist, Albert Einstein, and the worlds leading pediatric neurosurgeon, Fred Epstein. School reports are not to be trusted too much. I have seen some of the ‘high-scoring’ boys of school ending up with insignificant and unglamorous jobs after their graduation. However, mere discovery of one’s gifts is not enough. Years of polishing up ones talents makes one shine. In addition, that calls for extreme self-confidence: “I will do it, no matter what happens!” It is the mother of virtues such as a focused mind, a positive approach, patience and perseverance, which are also the keys to success.

To avoid sitting in an office desk doing the job which he had never wanted to do, and feeling unpleasant and bored because he had never built himself up the way he had to in order to do the sort of thing that he would have loved to do, a person must realise early in his student-life that career is not to be made synonymous with job or livelihood. Career is the choosing of a certain lifestyle, not just making a living. Blessed is he who has made a profession out of his hobby. Life, to him, is a passion. Ravi Shankar, M.F. Hussain, Medha Pathkar, and Kiran Bedi, had or have careers with a difference. That is preciously because they have loved their jobs and given their best to their jobs. One of my high-school teachers often adviced me: “Remember, its your life, not to be wasted on trifles, nor on something that ‘everybody’ (which usually means only parents and a few relatives and neighbours) wants you to do.”

In addition to this it must be born in mind that it is not that certain subjects taught in school and college matter and others do not. The truth is that all subjects matter. In some way or the other, all of them aid one to climb to the top. Apart from having a strong grasp of languages and mathematics (the most essential subjects today as there is hardly any well-paid profession where one can do without them), one must widen his domain of general knowledge. From breaking through admission tests and GDs, to beating ones rival, awareness of ‘what is going on in the world’ is something that really matters. That, I believe, demands nothing but only one single thing: reading; endless reading throughout ones life, be it from newspaper packets or WebPages. In addition to this, utilizing the accumulated information for one’s own benefit, and if possible and necessary, for the benefit of others, is bound to escalate one up to the zenith of success.

Anyone can make any career a source of great joy for himself and many other people whose life he influences. It depends entirely on how well he has been able to understand himself, his gifts and his skills. People like Anne Hazare and Rippan Kapur knew well what they were born for, and devoted their all for what they believed worthy to peruse.

Aspiration, I believe firmly, has to be skyscraping. “Ambition is not the vice of little people”, said Montaigne. In case you feel that if you cannot do any good deed by which people will remember you for ages, you have not lived, and consequently desire to do good to the world by eradicating any tormentation of subaltern sects or hierarchical hegemony, bring out a powerfully influencial NGO that will turn the wrong to right. But if it is money that you want, go beyond Microsoft. Bring out a firm that will mature to a multimillion-dollar industry surpassing every other corporate giant. Earning thirty thousand rupees a month, which an overwhelming majority of the middle class considers a heavenly earning, is no earning at all. It is nothing, nothing at all. Be a painter and sell your creations for not less than a crore each. That is what you call the real stuff. Become the owner of a thousand crores. However, that money will come only when you will pursue what you are best at. Be a celebrated personality - an international icon for whom BMW will make a separate car. That is what you call success. Aim high and fight for it. And if you want to have a humble earning so that you can spend much time with your family, being a loving husband and father who sleeps peacefully hugging his dear wife and children, be so. If remaining ordinary with a simple living and giving your all for loving your husband or wife is what you want to do throughout your life, let that be your career. Remember, no firm pays you a lakh a month for lying down beside a pool with a cocktail in hand. They are going to make you work fifteen hours a day, whether you like it or not.

One must always recognize one’s cup of tea. Choose what suits you best. Do not aim beyond your ability, because ambition can be dangerous. Remember Shakespeare:

“Fling away ambition:
By that sin fell the angels.”

By, Subhanjan Sengupta

(The author is an inquisitive and enthusiastic college student of
Ramakrishna Mission Vidyamandira at Belur Math, who is
Willing to indulge in any exchange of discourse on matters
Of socio-economic importance.
His e-mail ID is: il_penseroso@rediffmail.com)

Dear North, I have an important question to ask you. Answer it after you have read “ The Right Attitude”.

DO YOU LOVE YOUR JOB?

Keep writing.
Take care.

Test Match Series: West Indies v India
10-06-2006 at St Lucia, Day 4 of 5
Delayed
No play Tuesday due to rain
India won the toss and decided to bat
India 1st Innings
588 for 8 (148.2 overs)
West Indies 1st Innings
215 all out (85.1 overs) West Indies 2nd Innings
43 for 1 (17.3 overs)

India 1st Innings
Runs Balls 4s 6s
W Jaffer c D J Bravo b P T Collins 43 92 4 0
V Sehwag c and b P T Collins 180 190 20 2
V V S Laxman c D Ramdin b P T Collins 0 10 0 0
R Dravid c B C Lara b R R Sarwan 146 243 17 0
Yuvraj Singh b P T Collins 2 16 0 0
M Kaif not out 148 243 12 0
M S Dhoni c D Ganga b I D R Bradshaw 9 35 0 0
I K Pathan c D Ganga b C H Gayle 19 52 2 0
A Kumble b J E Taylor 14 31 1 0
Extras 12nb 4w 4b 7lb 27
Total for 8 588

Bowler O M R W
P T Collins 28.0 5 116 4
J E Taylor 24.2 4 88 1
D J Bravo 10.0 0 66 0
C D Collymore 21.0 1 92 0
I D R Bradshaw 26.0 6 80 1
R R Sarwan 18.0 1 83 1
C H Gayle 21.0 6 52 1
Fall of wicket
159 W Jaffer
161 V V S Laxman
300 V Sehwag
306 Yuvraj Singh
485 R Dravid
517 M S Dhoni
555 I K Pathan
588 A Kumble

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West Indies 1st Innings
Runs Balls 4s 6s
C H Gayle c M S Dhoni b A Kumble 46 106 7 1
D Ganga lbw b M M Patel 16 33 3 0
R R Sarwan lbw b M M Patel 0 1 0 0
B C Lara lbw b A Kumble 7 14 1 0
S Chanderpaul lbw b I K Pathan 30 79 3 0
D J Bravo c R Dravid b A Kumble 25 84 3 0
D Ramdin c M S Dhoni b M M Patel 30 83 4 0
I D R Bradshaw c and b V Sehwag 20 59 2 0
J E Taylor c M Kaif b V Sehwag 23 36 2 1
P T Collins c R Dravid b V Sehwag 0 5 0 0
C D Collymore not out 2 18 0 0
Extras 9nb 5b 2lb 16
Total all out 215

Bowler O M R W
I K Pathan 11.0 2 43 1
M M Patel 17.0 4 51 3
A Kumble 30.0 12 57 3
V R V Singh 10.0 3 23 0
V Sehwag 16.1 5 33 3
Yuvraj Singh 1.0 0 1 0
Fall of wicket
36 D Ganga
36 R R Sarwan
55 B C Lara
106 C H Gayle
106 S Chanderpaul
167 D J Bravo
178 D Ramdin
209 J E Taylor
210 P T Collins
215 I D R Bradshaw

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West Indies 2nd Innings
Runs Balls 4s 6s
C H Gayle c M S Dhoni b I K Pathan 2 3 0 0
D Ganga not out 24 53 3 0
B C Lara not out 15 50 2 0
Extras 2nb 2
Total for 1 43

Bowler O M R W
I K Pathan 7.0 1 23 1
M M Patel 5.0 4 4 0
V R V Singh 3.0 0 9 0
A Kumble 2.0 0 7 0
V Sehwag 0.3 0 0 0
Fall of wicket
2 C H Gayle

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Umpires: Asad Rauf, S J A Taufel
West Indies: C H Gayle, D Ganga, R R Sarwan, B C Lara, S Chanderpaul, D J Bravo, D Ramdin, I D R Bradshaw, P T Collins, J E Taylor, C D Collymore
India: W Jaffer, V Sehwag, R Dravid, Yuvraj Singh, V V S Laxman, M Kaif, M S Dhoni, I K Pathan, A Kumble, M M Patel, V R V Singh

Poetry Corner – Confusion of Confucius

What games people play?
“I am not Feather,” says Heather
“Interpret your own post,” says Interpreter
While Heather may be Feather
Feather may be Heather
And the Interpreter may be interpreting
Both Heather and Feather

Same goes with Stormin Normin
Or whatever, you might even
Call him Warmin Normin
It is all the same

And then there goes our Mohammad Ali,
Punching his punches in the air
Blaming everyone for his doom
He is hiding in his room
Deciphering De Vinci codes
Of thirty different names
For him Ravi is Rhaul
Rahul is TripSoul
Tanzan is Kabristan (grave yard)
Sachin is Munchin
North is South
South is North
Frost is Hot
Steven is Heathren
David is Rabid
Keith is a Kitten
Cat shit smitten
Gita is Rita
Rita is Sita
Khayyam is Khasim Eater (husband basher)
Rumi is Loony
Mallika is Mulk ( world)
Ron is Lawn to trample on
Tori is Love
(Dear dear sweet love!)
Yogi-one is Bhogi-one
UG is Fugi
DJ is OJ
OJ is AJ
Dara is David
Divya is Divinity
Sal is Salt
(not Wall Mart)
Swag is Rag
Monk is Honk
Swear aam not spiritual
Is not an individual
Donna Young is not Among
Of name calling individuals
Prabhakar is Thakar (priest)
Mieke is Reiki
Craig is Vague
Swami is Panni (water)
Harb is Herb
SM is Sweet Man
Lanhky is Swanky
Noname is No Name
Kristin is cracked Tin
Joaquin is Konkin (Indian tribe)
Skeptish is s- - t
Ruth is Truth
Nan D is Randi
Seema is See Ma (mother)
Hypocrit is a District
Sumant is Suman Tea
Rohit M is hitman
Someone is the One
Kate is heaven’s gate
Sumiti is pretty
R is a bar
Amar is Omar
Shruti is Sharbati (sweet favored)
GISEELE is Love
Pure Love!
Andrea is Aunty Rea
Just4Just is all Dust
Omar is Omoron
Mulla is hulla-ghulla (noise)
Nasruddin is Alladdin
Angie is Manji (cot)
Krishna is Rama
;) is :)
Raj is Taj
Tiffany is Tiff Any

And anyone is someone
who is after him
to let him down…
Poor No Win

Note/Disclaimer: It is just a parody. Nothing is meant for anybody, a real person or some with an alias(s). My apologies to those who did not like this parody, and to those who would have liked it but I happened to miss their real or unreal names.

~Ravi Kopra

Dear Geeta,
You have touched the hem of an angel. No harm shall come to you.

Dear Ravi

First on your list -- is that a compliment or a tight slap? Sachin has called me Feather, btw, as have some old schoolmates, when I was but a kiddie.

Did you like 110th & Bway?

love, Heather

sumiti, if my comment to Donna Young hurt you in any way, (on Suchitra's blogpost) I apologize.

David, thank you for the kind words. I really appreciate them. God bless.

Heather, thank you for your kindness, and friendship. God bless.

interpreter, Saul, rumi, I apologize for my comment to Donna Young on Suchitra's blog. If any one of you think I have written comments with unconcern, I did not do it intentionally. One of you wrote a poem about my habit of blessing everyone, you are right, I am a no one, a nobody, and I have no right to bless any one especially if my blessing is not wanted.

I had requested which comment was written with unconcern. If one wishes to answer, here are the comments in the past couple of days.

Joanie: 15, 22.

Rahul: 12, 61, 85.

Navin: 394, 411.

Open thread: 153, 168, 175, 201.

Thank you.

Dear Geeta

All my blessing and love to you, dear one.

love, Heather

Dear Mama Knows

I'm starting to recover from my flu, and am feeling somewhat feisty. Therefore I say to you that you have misstated yourself in your comment 225. You should have said, "Dear Geeta, I have touched your hem, angel. No harm shall come to you." Do you not agree?

love, Heather

And NORAD Kopra: Maybe you're the "Looney Muni," who's looking at 72 hours of involuntary institutionalization, and some expensive legal and medical bills, that you can't bankrupt on, under the new laws for Internet mischief using aliases--how much money do you have--and how well do you meditate in a padded cell, with no Internet service?

Maybe we can even get you a "group room," to videotape you interacting with all your aliases--and donate it Stanford's psychiatric dept., for "observation!" Dave

Heather:
Good to hear that you are recovering from the influenza bout. I am sorry I didnt know about ur illness earlier- I wud hv included ur speedy recovery in my daily prayers, had i known. nevertheless, i'll pray for u- that u regain ur lost energy asap. :)

Heather, u may wonder who I am, talking with u like this... let me introduce myself to u... I am a fan of Rahul's writing like you, albeit a silent one & a secret admirer of ur rtg & editing abilities. :)
I joined the IB parade recently (sometime in march or april) and so am in the middle of reading all the beautiful posts that I had missed. That's where I see the artist in u so beautifully manifested in the role of an editor!
Love to u!

And NORAD Kopra: Maybe you're the "Looney Muni," who's looking at 72 hours of involuntary institutionalization, and some expensive legal and medical bills, that you can't bankrupt on, under the new laws for Internet mischief using aliases--how much money do you have--and how well do you meditate in a padded cell, with no Internet service?

Maybe we can even get you a "group room," to videotape you interacting with all your aliases--and donate it Stanford's psychiatric department, as a learning tool for their "student-observers!" Dave

Dear Swear aam not spiritual!

I have noticed you from the first -- a memorable ID, true, but even more a memorable view on all things -- I am always interested in your positions, and find them balanced and wise. And now you declare you are a Rahul P fan, too! Well hey, there, we're on the same team! Much love to you as well, dear Swear.

love, Heather

Dear Heather,
It is as you say.

Dear Mama Knows

A very big kiss to you, for that.

love, Heather

Geeta:
I see u troubled with all these hype about nothing! u have been the strength & light of IB all along. u r a gifted soul with the ability to take pain away with the energy & exuberance of ur words. ur excellent feelings & intentions have been misunderstood somewhere.

u r much wiser than me but here I wish to share something with u that aam sure u will profit from- let the high tide or low tide of emotions pass before reacting to any situation. That way u will be better off. Stay calm. Even this will pass away!

And Geeta, one doesn’t have to be a saint or an incarnation to bless others. One only has to have a big heart filled with love & empathy- which I know for sure u do.

Please dont misunderstand my talking with u every now & then as prying or interference. I rt what I feel for u, Geeta.
Don't hesitate to tell me if u find this coarse!

Take care.
Love & God bless!

Dear Hypocrite

Are you fled, leaving us bereft of your lucid thoughts, gentle words and subtle puzzles? Nahi, Hypocrite, come back and post!

"How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,
That has such people in ’t!"

love, Heather

Thanks Heather!
Its an honor to know that the person I secretly admire finds my opinions worth reading!
I am so touched. I will cherish this compliment always!
:)

If I comment
And it hurts I will save the torment
If I comment
And it touches I will cherish the moment
If I refrain
And it tells I will break my abstinence
If I refrain
And it is all quiet I would enjoy a dance

Dear Heather, I will let u know when I am not reading the posts and may not be active for a time.

In my comments
I refrain
In my refrain
I comment

Dear Hypocrite

:)

love, Heather

Monseignor Hypocrite,

Just a HELLO!, basically...

There is much to read here...

so difficult keeping up...

Maybe you are reading something else?

No, not the newspaper,

nor the Enquirer...

"There you go, man!

Keep as cool as you can!

Face trials in piles with smiles,

It riles them to believe

That you perceive the web they weave.

Keep on thinking free!" Moody Blues

Dear Subhanjan Sengupta; bravo to you and your thoughts and dreams! Yes, there is trouble; but is that not normal for a household to have? I have glaucoma(tunnel vision) so there's a difficulty for me to read at great length. PC seems to be better than a book, but it still is a painful strain. sorry.

I assure you Subhanjan, that my son is quite ready for college. I am the sort of Mom who pushed when necessary and nurtured when required, always giving and taking with an even balance for us both.

Subsequently, for both our efforts for his future endeavours; he's made the honour roll, works part-time, has a steady girl half a year now; and embarks with a positive attitude and a plan. He's mapped his future well. WE took his future quite serious; no less, no more than any other Mom I suppose; but, I was adamant at being a key positive figure for him on the homefront?

There is nothing left for him to learn from me now; except to spread his wings soon, and fly away to college! : ) This is not an hour of gloom, but a day of opened gates; even though I'll find empty nest quite a challenge; I do not dread having only my own company.

Yes, I love designing book covers, thankyou! And, my handmade greeting cards have been well recieved.

I like to talk about social-topical issues faced by the poorer global mass's which the minority few, might not have an inkling of what it is like; like-why people in pressing stressor's "are" the way that they are, and why?

I have founded lone parent support group; was a volunteer EM for 10 years, president of a large ladies auxillary, editor of the college paper I attended at age 41-43, published free-lance, governmental-policy issues journalist; blah blah; any more than that, and I'll sound braggartly(blush.)

I'm afraid though; I am not the inept woman I am painted as, just because I have diseases and live primarily on a disability income; while home-designing under their utmost scrutiny; tragicly, it is always the readers' perceptions at deciphering a person's words; which become the logical choice, obscuring all others, more often than not; as to who I am, or am not?

Indeed, it is wise to learn from your own age group thought, I cannot agree more. Mine is tainted with middle-age related issues?(smile)I mean how boring is that for a young boy like you?

North

I promise though; I will read your Attitude piece for students in career search; as it's imperitive students have as many intellectual and social skills as possible before leaving home.

A career one would love to do for the hours, weeks months and years are equally important. You have hit upon many important factoring agents which might make or break a students success at career choice.

I skimmed your piece quickly; but, I DO promise to read it in it's entirety-first, because I love good reading of any kind; second, the topic couldn't be more synchronized for me and my son!

Thankyou, and will happily report in a day or two; my honest critique. It is quite obvious you have a "passion" and that is good; it keeps the balance and harmony of "Self" in steady fluidic, almost melodic(if one wish's to conspire to be romantic at heart) spirit-motion(wink!)

Dear Diablo, aww, you are going to give me a cavity with such sweetness!! Definately bringing crab dip, and fresh, crunch veg!!

I have another copper pipe; I'll have my son drill holes into. Then, we'll insert a long piece of garden hose. Then, when the night is as black as possible; it will be gently placed into the bonfire; where it's magical lights will become displayed in a show of sizzling colours!! It really is pretty to see!! makes the fire many different colours...

North

Hey, campers!

I heard it thru the grapevine

So I'm gatherin' some things of mine.

Ooh, ooh, I heard it from a friend of mine,

And I'm just about to lose my mind...

Honey, honey, yeah!

Howsabout some gooseberry pie?

I shall risk piercing my fingers

and brave the thorny branches

of the burning, stinging bush

bright and early in the morn'!

I could do rhubarb pie...

if'n we draw a crowd.

Bring pencil and paper,

then you can draw me a beer!

Erase the foam, please. Keith

I enjoyed reading W. Somerset Maughm very much! So wonderfully written; every tender word!

North

I enjoyed reading W. Somerset Maughm very much! So wonderfully written; every tender word! Perfect read around the campsite.

North

Dearest Geeta,
I was able to have a nice walk at the park this evening. The storm has passed through, but there was lots of twigs and leaves on the wooded path. I walked carefully, so as not to stumble over any of it.

There was a nice breeze to gently touch me, and it made my walk refreshing. After all the rain of yesterday and storm clouds, tonight's sky and setting sun with radiant colors - was breathtaking.

Today is a special day for me. When we meet at the campsite - will you take my hands into yours, and offer me your Blessing. This is the gift I wish to receive.

I love you so,
~ Kate

Thank You North for all your comforting words of wisdom. I can not write anything to you today. So I am sorry. And I am also sorry for this glaucoma that you have. It is nice that you are fighting hard with your physical problem. And it seems that you are somewhat interested in knowing a bit about the less privelaged people of the globe. I will get in touch with you regarding this later. There is a lot to say. And then I will talk to you about something called ARANI. It is a small group that a few of my friends and I have made to discuss important social and economic issues and finding ways to help out the subalterns. I will talk to you about all this later. As of now, just inform me one thing - Which country are you from?

And here is a story that I have written. I do not know whether it is worthy to be read or not. But I will be obliged if you read it and post me your thoughts.

'God Gives Us Opportunities'

He was rich. Or may be, it would be right to say that his father was rich. To be more specific: damn rich. Moreover, he led his life, accepting no boundary to expenditure. Occasional dinner at some of the much-demanded and opulent restaurants of Kolkata, spending lavishly at lounges on weekdays, frequently dropping in on Plazas for the latest fashion wear and wooing girls by adorning them with the best (his domain of the ‘best’ things being limited to the latest Mobiles, CDs, Jeans and Skirts) consumer entities capturing the market. A life involving such meaningless and licentious expenditure, which is common to an over-whelming majority of people belonging to the society (a lesser degree in some and a higher degree in others) demanded Sanjay’s wallet to be heavy: ten thousand in cash was the least that he got from his father every month. This was a huge amount in a country where millions die of hunger and ignorance, simply because they do not have money. For people like Sanjay, it was an astronomically laborious task to realize the desperation of those who live on grass and rats as their staple diet. But who cares? “There are millions who are born and die in poverty every day. What can one possibly do? So let’s have fun,” is what Sanjay’s dad would say, so would his son, and so would many.

Fine. Nice life. Indeed, Sanjay lead a very happy and luxurious life, complimented with security. Life is full of many woes. Moreover, he was one lucky chap, to whom, pain in life, was a component of existence that was totally alien. He did not even need to worry about his future. He knew well that his father would leave back an enormous fortune for him.

Rich though he was in terms of money, he was a pure destitute of good tastes – a characteristic not unique to him, but quiet common. Inviting much satire, almost unconsciously, in his house he made it a point to posses some of the best things of all cultures, with an intention to make the shelves look attractive – a practice that is not uncommon. Though he never listened to classical music, he stocked his shelves with all stalwarts of the genre from Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart to Pandit Ravi Shankar. Masters like Brumes, Rossini, Verdi, Beethoven, Mahler, Shiv Kumar Sharma, Zakir Hussain, Ustad Amjad Ali Khan, and several others won his shelves. But they were there just for show. And so was the destiny to which the books in his house were destined too. There was hardly any famous author, poet, or playwright that would not be found in his shelves. Tagore, Saratchandra, Sukanta, Joy Goswami, Marquez, Cervantes, Byron, Shakespeare, Dickens, Hardy, Boccassio, Joyce, and several others adorned his shelves, though he read none. They were there just to make it apparent to people that he was in possession of great books in his house, which, he believed, to be a matter of great prestige.

The Kolkata book fair had started and Sanjay decided to have fun over there with a few of his friends, and if at all he wished to, he would waste some money on buying books that his shelves lacked. Once he was inside the book fair, he went around with his friends from one stall to another, and bought a few books and encyclopedias whose attractive professional covers qualified to make fine showpieces for his shelves. It did not matter to him if a book was worth more than a thousand bucks. What mattered to him was whether it was famous, and whether it would look good on his shelf. And then, he made his way to the food pavilion. Knowing well that he would hardly fall short of money, it was a piece of cake for him to spend a hell lot on his girl friends and on himself as well. His economic condition was too strong to make him bother about price of the foodstuff sold in the pavilion. After having taken a good amount of Biriani with the costliest sweets sold in the stall of K.C. Das, he decided to give a roasted chicken leg as the final delight to his palate. Taking a roasted chicken leg, hot red in its colour, he munched on it with great satisfaction, and then threw the piece of bone, along with the paper plate on the ground. It was then that something happened. In this huge span of twenty years that he had existed, he had never seen something like this happening right infront of him; he became dumb, and he kept staring. In his whole life, he had never imagined that one could be so desperate to do something like that. The soul of the universe sent a horrible sense of pain through his heart. He found no words to speak. And something deep inside stirred him, filling him with a sense of utter shame and disgust on himself and the world.

When he had thrown his paper plate to the ground, with the piece of half-chewed bone on it, almost instantly, a naked child, horribly poverty-stricken and full of filth from his hair to his toes, came running, picked up the piece of bone from the ground, and started chewing it. Seeing him to have got hold of some food, a few other street urchins, naked and half-naked, and as filthy as he was, ran to snatch away the food from him. Sanjay stood there utterly shocked by this, and stared blankly at them. After twenty years of ignorance, perhaps he saw the light of wisdom, and the dire need of duty, in its universal sense. On may be he is one of those who stand and pity, and then go off to have a cup of Cappuccino, forgetting about it, or rather, trying to forget it. Hundreds of people around pass by such shameless prostitution of humanity everyday, without even noticing the opportunities that God gives them to rectify themselves. In the end, anything but damnation prevails.

- by, Subhanjan Sengupta,
2nd Year, English Honours,
Ramakrishna Mission Vidymandira, Belur Math.

Keep writing.
Take care

Thank You North for all your comforting words of wisdom. I can not write anything to you today. So I am sorry. And I am also sorry for this glaucoma that you have. It is nice that you are fighting hard with your physical problem. And it seems that you are somewhat interested in knowing a bit about the less privelaged people of the globe. I will get in touch with you regarding this later. There is a lot to say. And then I will talk to you about something called ARANI. It is a small group that a few of my friends and I have made to discuss important social and economic issues and finding ways to help out the subalterns. I will talk to you about all this later. As of now, just inform me one thing - Which country are you from?

And here is a story for you. It is written by O Henry. I will be obliged if you read it and post me your thoughts.

The Last Leaf

by O. HENRY

In a little district west of Washington Square the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called "places." These "places" make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper and canvas should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account!

So, to quaint old Greenwich Village the art people soon came prowling, hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables and Dutch attics and low rents. Then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from Sixth Avenue, and became a "colony."

At the top of a squatty, three-story brick Sue and Johnsy had their studio. "Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. One was from Maine; the other from California. They had met at the table d'hôte of an Eighth Street "Delmonico's," and found their tastes in art, chicory salad and bishop sleeves so congenial that the joint studio resulted.

That was in May. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers. Over on the east side this ravager strode boldly, smiting his victims by scores, but his feet trod slowly through the maze of the narrow and moss-grown "places."

Mr. Pneumonia was not what you would call a chivalric old gentleman. A mite of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs was hardly fair game for the red-fisted, short-breathed old duffer. But Johnsy he smote; and she lay, scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead, looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.

One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy, gray eyebrow.

"She has one chance in - let us say, ten," he said, as he shook down the mercury in his clinical thermometer. " And that chance is for her to want to live. This way people have of lining-u on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. Your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?"

"She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day." said Sue.

"Paint? - bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice - a man for instance?"

"A man?" said Sue, with a jew's-harp twang in her voice. "Is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind."

"Well, it is the weakness, then," said the doctor. "I will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. If you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves I will promise you a one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten."

After the doctor had gone Sue went into the workroom and cried a Japanese napkin to a pulp. Then she swaggered into Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.

Johnsy lay, scarcely making a ripple under the bedclothes, with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep.

She arranged her board and began a pen-and-ink drawing to illustrate a magazine story. Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to Literature.

As Sue was sketching a pair of elegant horseshow riding trousers and a monocle of the figure of the hero, an Idaho cowboy, she heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside.

Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting - counting backward.

"Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then "eight" and "seven", almost together.

Sue look solicitously out of the window. What was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away. An old, old ivy vine, gnarled and decayed at the roots, climbed half way up the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken its leaves from the vine until its skeleton branches clung, almost bare, to the crumbling bricks.

"What is it, dear?" asked Sue.

"Six," said Johnsy, in almost a whisper. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now."

"Five what, dear? Tell your Sudie."

"Leaves. On the ivy vine. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?"

"Oh, I never heard of such nonsense," complained Sue, with magnificent scorn. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. Don't be a goosey. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were - let's see exactly what he said - he said the chances were ten to one! Why, that's almost as good a chance as we have in New York when we ride on the street cars or walk past a new building. Try to take some broth now, and let Sudie go back to her drawing, so she can sell the editor man with it, and buy port wine for her sick child, and pork chops for her greedy self."

"You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another. No, I don't want any broth. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too."

"Johnsy, dear," said Sue, bending over her, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by to-morrow. I need the light, or I would draw the shade down."

"Couldn't you draw in the other room?" asked Johnsy, coldly.

"I'd rather be here by you," said Sue. "Beside, I don't want you to keep looking at those silly ivy leaves."

"Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes, and lying white and still as fallen statue, "because I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves."

"Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Behrman up to be my model for the old hermit miner. I'll not be gone a minute. Don't try to move 'til I come back."

Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty and had a Michael Angelo's Moses beard curling down from the head of a satyr along with the body of an imp. Behrman was a failure in art. Forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe. He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional. He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above.

Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of juniper berries in his dimly lighted den below. In one corner was a blank canvas on an easel that had been waiting there for twenty-five years to receive the first line of the masterpiece. She told him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away, when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker.

Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings.

"Vass!" he cried. "Is dere people in de world mit der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off from a confounded vine? I haf not heard of such a thing. No, I will not bose as a model for your fool hermit-dunderhead. Vy do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach, dot poor leetle Miss Yohnsy."

"She is very ill and weak," said Sue, "and the fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange fancies. Very well, Mr. Behrman, if you do not care to pose for me, you needn't. But I think you are a horrid old - old flibbertigibbet."

"You are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman. "Who said I will not bose? Go on. I come mit you. For half an hour I haf peen trying to say dot I am ready to bose. Gott! dis is not any blace in which one so goot as Miss Yohnsy shall lie sick. Some day I vill baint a masterpiece, and ve shall all go away. Gott! yes."

Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to the window-sill, and motioned Behrman into the other room. In there they peered out the window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other for a moment without speaking. A persistent, cold rain was falling, mingled with snow. Behrman, in his old blue shirt, took his seat as the hermit miner on an upturned kettle for a rock.

When Sue awoke from an hour's sleep the next morning she found Johnsy with dull, wide-open eyes staring at the drawn green shade.

"Pull it up; I want to see," she ordered, in a whisper.

Wearily Sue obeyed.

But, lo! after the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the livelong night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. Still dark green near its stem, with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay, it hung bravely from the branch some twenty feet above the ground.

"It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall to-day, and I shall die at the same time."

"Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down to the pillow, "think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?"

But Johnsy did not answer. The lonesomest thing in all the world is a soul when it is making ready to go on its mysterious, far journey. The fancy seemed to possess her more strongly as one by one the ties that bound her to friendship and to earth were loosed.

The day wore away, and even through the twilight they could see the lone ivy leaf clinging to its stem against the wall. And then, with the coming of the night the north wind was again loosed, while the rain still beat against the windows and pattered down from the low Dutch eaves.

When it was light enough Johnsy, the merciless, commanded that the shade be raised.

The ivy leaf was still there.

Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was stirring her chicken broth over the gas stove.

"I've been a bad girl, Sudie," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked I was. It is a sin to want to die. You may bring a me a little broth now, and some milk with a little port in it, and - no; bring me a hand-mirror first, and then pack some pillows about me, and I will sit up and watch you cook."

And hour later she said:

"Sudie, some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."

The doctor came in the afternoon, and Sue had an excuse to go into the hallway as he left.

"Even chances," said the doctor, taking Sue's thin, shaking hand in his. "With good nursing you'll win." And now I must see another case I have downstairs. Behrman, his name is - some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man, and the attack is acute. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital to-day to be made more comfortable."

The next day the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now - that's all."

And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, contentedly knitting a very blue and very useless woollen shoulder scarf, and put one arm around her, pillows and all.

"I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mr. Behrman died of pneumonia to-day in the hospital. He was ill only two days. The janitor found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold. They couldn't imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes, and a palette with green and yellow colors mixed on it, and - look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it's Behrman's masterpiece - he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."

What have you learnt from this story and the story by Maugham?

Keep writing.
Take care.

Thank You North for all your comforting words of wisdom. I can not write anything to you today. So I am sorry. And I am also sorry for this glaucoma that you have. It is nice that you are fighting hard with your physical problem. And it seems that you are somewhat interested in knowing a bit about the less privelaged people of the globe. I will get in touch with you regarding this later. There is a lot to say. And then I will talk to you about something called ARANI. It is a small group that a few of my friends and I have made to discuss important social and economic issues and finding ways to help out the subalterns. I will talk to you about all this later. As of now, just inform me one thing - Which country are you from?

And here is a story for you. It is written by O Henry. I will be obliged if you read it and post me your thoughts.

'The Last Leaf'

by O. HENRY

In a little district west of Washington Square the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called "places." These "places" make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper and canvas should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account!

So, to quaint old Greenwich Village the art people soon came prowling, hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables and Dutch attics and low rents. Then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from Sixth Avenue, and became a "colony."

At the top of a squatty, three-story brick Sue and Johnsy had their studio. "Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. One was from Maine; the other from California. They had met at the table d'hôte of an Eighth Street "Delmonico's," and found their tastes in art, chicory salad and bishop sleeves so congenial that the joint studio resulted.

That was in May. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers. Over on the east side this ravager strode boldly, smiting his victims by scores, but his feet trod slowly through the maze of the narrow and moss-grown "places."

Mr. Pneumonia was not what you would call a chivalric old gentleman. A mite of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs was hardly fair game for the red-fisted, short-breathed old duffer. But Johnsy he smote; and she lay, scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead, looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.

One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy, gray eyebrow.

"She has one chance in - let us say, ten," he said, as he shook down the mercury in his clinical thermometer. " And that chance is for her to want to live. This way people have of lining-u on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. Your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?"

"She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day." said Sue.

"Paint? - bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice - a man for instance?"

"A man?" said Sue, with a jew's-harp twang in her voice. "Is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind."

"Well, it is the weakness, then," said the doctor. "I will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. If you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves I will promise you a one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten."

After the doctor had gone Sue went into the workroom and cried a Japanese napkin to a pulp. Then she swaggered into Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.

Johnsy lay, scarcely making a ripple under the bedclothes, with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep.

She arranged her board and began a pen-and-ink drawing to illustrate a magazine story. Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to Literature.

As Sue was sketching a pair of elegant horseshow riding trousers and a monocle of the figure of the hero, an Idaho cowboy, she heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside.

Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting - counting backward.

"Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then "eight" and "seven", almost together.

Sue look solicitously out of the window. What was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away. An old, old ivy vine, gnarled and decayed at the roots, climbed half way up the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken its leaves from the vine until its skeleton branches clung, almost bare, to the crumbling bricks.

"What is it, dear?" asked Sue.

"Six," said Johnsy, in almost a whisper. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now."

"Five what, dear? Tell your Sudie."

"Leaves. On the ivy vine. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?"

"Oh, I never heard of such nonsense," complained Sue, with magnificent scorn. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. Don't be a goosey. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were - let's see exactly what he said - he said the chances were ten to one! Why, that's almost as good a chance as we have in New York when we ride on the street cars or walk past a new building. Try to take some broth now, and let Sudie go back to her drawing, so she can sell the editor man with it, and buy port wine for her sick child, and pork chops for her greedy self."

"You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another. No, I don't want any broth. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too."

"Johnsy, dear," said Sue, bending over her, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by to-morrow. I need the light, or I would draw the shade down."

"Couldn't you draw in the other room?" asked Johnsy, coldly.

"I'd rather be here by you," said Sue. "Beside, I don't want you to keep looking at those silly ivy leaves."

"Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes, and lying white and still as fallen statue, "because I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves."

"Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Behrman up to be my model for the old hermit miner. I'll not be gone a minute. Don't try to move 'til I come back."

Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty and had a Michael Angelo's Moses beard curling down from the head of a satyr along with the body of an imp. Behrman was a failure in art. Forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe. He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional. He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above.

Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of juniper berries in his dimly lighted den below. In one corner was a blank canvas on an easel that had been waiting there for twenty-five years to receive the first line of the masterpiece. She told him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away, when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker.

Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings.

"Vass!" he cried. "Is dere people in de world mit der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off from a confounded vine? I haf not heard of such a thing. No, I will not bose as a model for your fool hermit-dunderhead. Vy do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach, dot poor leetle Miss Yohnsy."

"She is very ill and weak," said Sue, "and the fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange fancies. Very well, Mr. Behrman, if you do not care to pose for me, you needn't. But I think you are a horrid old - old flibbertigibbet."

"You are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman. "Who said I will not bose? Go on. I come mit you. For half an hour I haf peen trying to say dot I am ready to bose. Gott! dis is not any blace in which one so goot as Miss Yohnsy shall lie sick. Some day I vill baint a masterpiece, and ve shall all go away. Gott! yes."

Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to the window-sill, and motioned Behrman into the other room. In there they peered out the window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other for a moment without speaking. A persistent, cold rain was falling, mingled with snow. Behrman, in his old blue shirt, took his seat as the hermit miner on an upturned kettle for a rock.

When Sue awoke from an hour's sleep the next morning she found Johnsy with dull, wide-open eyes staring at the drawn green shade.

"Pull it up; I want to see," she ordered, in a whisper.

Wearily Sue obeyed.

But, lo! after the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the livelong night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. Still dark green near its stem, with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay, it hung bravely from the branch some twenty feet above the ground.

"It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall to-day, and I shall die at the same time."

"Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down to the pillow, "think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?"

But Johnsy did not answer. The lonesomest thing in all the world is a soul when it is making ready to go on its mysterious, far journey. The fancy seemed to possess her more strongly as one by one the ties that bound her to friendship and to earth were loosed.

The day wore away, and even through the twilight they could see the lone ivy leaf clinging to its stem against the wall. And then, with the coming of the night the north wind was again loosed, while the rain still beat against the windows and pattered down from the low Dutch eaves.

When it was light enough Johnsy, the merciless, commanded that the shade be raised.

The ivy leaf was still there.

Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was stirring her chicken broth over the gas stove.

"I've been a bad girl, Sudie," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked I was. It is a sin to want to die. You may bring a me a little broth now, and some milk with a little port in it, and - no; bring me a hand-mirror first, and then pack some pillows about me, and I will sit up and watch you cook."

And hour later she said:

"Sudie, some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."

The doctor came in the afternoon, and Sue had an excuse to go into the hallway as he left.

"Even chances," said the doctor, taking Sue's thin, shaking hand in his. "With good nursing you'll win." And now I must see another case I have downstairs. Behrman, his name is - some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man, and the attack is acute. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital to-day to be made more comfortable."

The next day the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now - that's all."

And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, contentedly knitting a very blue and very useless woollen shoulder scarf, and put one arm around her, pillows and all.

"I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mr. Behrman died of pneumonia to-day in the hospital. He was ill only two days. The janitor found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold. They couldn't imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes, and a palette with green and yellow colors mixed on it, and - look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it's Behrman's masterpiece - he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."

What have you learnt from this story and the story by Maugham?

Keep writing.
Take care.

Narad Muni,

Sumant is Suman Tea?

Suman Tea????

Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha... enjoyed that!

Good stuff!

Narad Muni,

Sumant is Suman Tea?

Suman Tea????

Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha... enjoyed that!

Good stuff!

Dear Subhanjan, From Maughm I resonated with the firmness of being a teacher and guide; and as a parent, I resonated deeply with the absolute of love, as described in the bathing of his children; the tenderness of the human spirit I believe, is the more significant half of our balance.

We, as human beings; really ARE delicate creatures, not unlike the infant; we are at a constant, almost need-like quest to explore that, which we do not understand, with the visionary aspirations of the imaginative mind; and the heart and soul of a great adventurer!

As Gautam Patil lamented on his life-defying climb to Everest, "Climb High!"

It may be too long before I can read all of your stories Subhanjan; please forgive me, my lesser side of time and reading ability.

North

Dear North, it does not matter if you can not read all the stories quickly. Take your time.
Just reading is not enough. What you learn from what you read is the most important thing. Never be disheartened for this disease that you have. There is a nice book that you would love to read. It is about a woman (whose situation is alittle bit like yours) who, alongside her passion for music, grows deaf. But she plays on. The book is "An Equal Music", written by Vikram Seth. Read it. I loved it. And I trust you would love it too, untill and unless you are the kind of person who is mad about Haydn and Mozart.

With love and wishes,
Subhanjan.

Dear North, it does not matter if you can not read all the stories quickly. Take your time.
Just reading is not enough. What you learn from what you read is the most important thing. Never be disheartened for this disease that you have. There is a nice book that you would love to read. It is about a woman (whose situation is alittle bit like yours) who, alongside her passion for music, grows deaf. But she plays on. The book is "An Equal Music", written by Vikram Seth. Read it. I loved it. And I trust you would love it too, untill and unless you are the kind of person who is mad about Haydn and Mozart.

With love and wishes,
Subhanjan.

Dear North, it does not matter if you can not read all the stories quickly. Take your time.
Just reading is not enough. What you learn from what you read is the most important thing. Never be disheartened for this disease that you have. There is a nice book that you would love to read. It is about a woman (whose situation is alittle bit like yours) who, alongside her passion for music, grows deaf. But she plays on. The book is "An Equal Music", written by Vikram Seth. Read it. I loved it. And I trust you would love it too, untill and unless you are the kind of person who is mad about Haydn and Mozart.

With love and wishes,
Subhanjan.

Dear North, it does not matter if you can not read all the stories quickly. Take your time.
Just reading is not enough. What you learn from what you read is the most important thing. Never be disheartened for this disease that you have. There is a nice book that you would love to read. It is about a woman (whose situation is a little bit like yours) who, alongside her passion for music, grows deaf. But she plays on. The book is "An Equal Music", written by Vikram Seth. Read it. I loved it. And I trust you would love it too, untill and unless you are the kind of person who is mad about Haydn and Mozart.

With love and wishes,
Subhanjan.

Subhanjan Sengupta,

As a matter of rule, I do not read long, drawn-out posts, I do not have the patience for them. If you can keep it short and sweet, it may be more appealing. Please don't be offended by this.

Spence.

My dear Spencer,

I hope you are fine, and in good health.
I must say, and please do not mind, it is not a matter of pride for one to say that one has no patience. Adding to this, I do not regret to comment that any mature, educated and civilised man has patience; whether it is patience for reading fat yet marvelous books, or patience to control ones genetals when in bed with wife. Patience is the first sign of a civilised man. If you do not have this virtue of patience, I must say that there had been something seriously wrong with your education. I may sound harsh, but unfortunately the truth is always harsh. But that's the way I am - I take life seriously. If you do not, then abuse me and forget this post.

Besides this, whether a writing is appealing or not is not a matter of size. The 'Ramayana' is a huge epic and marvelous. Whereas, 'The Bet', a mere short story by Anton Chekov, is one of the best things I have ever read in my life.
My posts, I trust, deal with serious issues, and need to be dealt seriously. If you are the kind of person who wants to spend his entire life happily on a mug of beer, then let that be so. You are happy in your own way. There is no need for you to think of the real important things of life. Forget me and my posts entirely.
And if you want to be a serious and inquiaitive person, go through them.

Take care,
Subhanjan.

My dear Spencer,

I hope you are fine, and in good health.
I must say, and please do not mind, it is not a matter of pride for one to say that one has no patience. Adding to this, I do not regret to comment that any mature, educated and civilised man has patience; whether it is patience for reading fat yet marvelous books, or patience to control ones genetals when in bed with wife. Patience is the first sign of a civilised man. If you do not have this virtue of patience, I must say that there had been something seriously wrong with your education. I may sound harsh, but unfortunately the truth is always harsh. But that's the way I am - I take life seriously. If you do not, then abuse me and forget this post.

Besides this, whether a writing is appealing or not is not a matter of size. The 'Ramayana' is a huge epic and marvelous. Whereas, 'The Bet', a mere short story by Anton Chekov, is one of the best things I have ever read in my life.
My posts, I trust, deal with serious issues, and need to be dealt seriously. If you are the kind of person who wants to spend his entire life happily on a mug of beer, then let that be so. You are happy in your own way. There is no need for you to think of the real important things of life. Forget me and my posts entirely.
And if you want to be a serious and inquisitive person, go through them.

Take care,
Subhanjan.

Dear Subhanjan, thankyou for the book reference. I read Helen Keller and watched the movie; just to get an inside look at the triumphant human spirit when faced with such consequence of loss of sight.

I will read everything with time, and wish you continued success in your studies.

North

Subhanjan Sengupta,

You pronounce:

"I hope you are fine, and in good health.
I must say, and please do not mind, it is not a matter of pride for one to say that one has no patience. Adding to this, I do not regret to comment that any mature, educated and civilised man has patience; whether it is patience for reading fat yet marvelous books, or patience to control ones genetals when in bed with wife. Patience is the first sign of a civilised man."

You speak of "controlling one's gentials!" Well, dear madam, I don't know how much you know about controlling gentinals and I don't know what a man's education has to do with patience and genitals. Perhaps I am on the cusp of learning something new from an expert like you.

When it comes to my genitals I am pretty eclectic in my taste in how I indulge it. And am pretty sure you will never find out. You must be on something rather strange, fair lady!

Spence.

Dear Subhanjan Sengupta,

The Last Leaf, was a beautiful read; poignant, and sublimely twines the essence of fear and will, from one folding corner of the human mind.

I resonate with the dying woman. Days and nights can become encaging; life less engaged, because of pain.

I resonate with her brilliant epiphany, about the last leaf on the tree. One early morning, while staring out my window; I turned but for a second, and when I looked again out the window, was a tear-shaped stain. Their were no clouds to rain, it was MY epiphany.

Alas, only Helen Keller, can BE; Helen Keller, and the rest of us, have to make due with our cognitive awareness, self-awareness; and combine them into a palpable "way" as deemed the ability-level.

All too soon, death comes for each of us; none of us ever being ready, or willing to go. How rare, a human-being it takes, to become a Helen Keller of their disease.

A prayer: Serenity Prayer

"May God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference."

Wonderful read, thankyou! Very synchronized!

North

Navin, I am here. It is mahadevi51@aol.com. You are taking too much trouble on my account.I would appreciate if you let me send you some books, by mail or sending through some one who is traveling to India. They can mail it to you. Or I can mail it to you. I am not visiting India till december. Thanks a million. There are things in my astrology chart that only I should know, some of it has passed. That is why I thought you should email me. God bless you.