Friday, July 28, 2006
Individual's heart to the World!
When there is truth inside, and you speak your heart
There is goodness in character.
When there is goodness in each character,
There is happiness in family.
When there is happiness in each family
There is prosperity in society.
When there is prosperity in the society
There is progress in the nation.
When there is progress in each nation,
There is peace in the World.
-Gursharan Singh, 29th July, 2006.
Read it ANYWAY...
Though falsehood may prevail for a small time, truth is immortal. Trying to gather some more thoughts on similar lines, I was just trying to write something on the co-existing forms of life, some lead it with truth, some in falsehood, and some with both with the motive of defining everything as it suits them. It is not that I am shooting spearheads on humanity, I am no less and may be worser than anybody. Though I try to be a truth follower, I am too human to always remain one. Life plays smartly, never letting you know that it made you do your chance – and you can’t do a look ahead. Amidst all this slurry of thoughts, I can recall Mother Teresa writing beautiful principles of life. If we try to circumscribe our living within these simple facts, it appears that we win over life. Else, line of fire always passes from between your toes. As some say “Larger than life”, these principles teach us to be ignorant about certain things and happenings and the power of the word “Anyway”. Here goes the fragrant bouquet of couplets -
People are unreasonable, illogical and self centered, love them Anyway.
If you do good, people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives, do good Anyway.
If you get success, you win false friends and true enemies, succeed Anyway.
The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow, do good Anyway.
Honesty and transparency make you vulnerable, be honest and transparent Anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight, build Anyway.
Give the world the best you have and you may get hurt, give the world the best you have Anyway.
My frail minded extension:
People favor underdogs, but follow only topdogs, fight some underdogs Anyway.
If you try to be honest, chances are that you will be exploited, but be honest Anyway.
If you do good, you will be kicked in teeth, do good Anyway.
If you speak truth, you may be regarded a blunt and straight shooter, speak truth Anyway.
If you express your true self, you will often be misunderstood, speak your heart Anyway.
If you fail, it may be difficult to proceed, but spin back with more force Anyway.
If you fall, rise and again fall, rise again Anyway.
Success, failures and happiness are too small metrics to measure life, be confident, cheerful and live life ANYWAY.
-G 29th July, 2006.
People are unreasonable, illogical and self centered, love them Anyway.
If you do good, people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives, do good Anyway.
If you get success, you win false friends and true enemies, succeed Anyway.
The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow, do good Anyway.
Honesty and transparency make you vulnerable, be honest and transparent Anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight, build Anyway.
Give the world the best you have and you may get hurt, give the world the best you have Anyway.
My frail minded extension:
People favor underdogs, but follow only topdogs, fight some underdogs Anyway.
If you try to be honest, chances are that you will be exploited, but be honest Anyway.
If you do good, you will be kicked in teeth, do good Anyway.
If you speak truth, you may be regarded a blunt and straight shooter, speak truth Anyway.
If you express your true self, you will often be misunderstood, speak your heart Anyway.
If you fail, it may be difficult to proceed, but spin back with more force Anyway.
If you fall, rise and again fall, rise again Anyway.
Success, failures and happiness are too small metrics to measure life, be confident, cheerful and live life ANYWAY.
-G 29th July, 2006.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Life goes on....
To start, allow me to use the metaphor “war”. My enemy is my thought. It’s so painful to be misunderstood and then toiling hard in the hope that things will be fine, believe me, they do not. They never will. The same old one liner – “God helps those who help themselves” strikes again and bangs right into my face. At times, you feel so energetic that you feel you can move anything that comes in front, but pity, not your own heart. Feelings and thoughts that have hung for long, these rascals just won’t quit. You try hating what you loved, just to forget it, but it spins back, harder. Just when you decide on something, you realize you have experienced a pitfall camouflaged by your dreams and the endless quest to chase them. Bah, humbug! Then where flew the principles? You behaved vociferously with them, lacking discipline in thought?
People who have loved me for what I am, people who always stood behind me, people who I know will miss me (and me will miss them too), when they encourage me, I just fall short of crying. I also feel like missing them - I have lived with them for long, for the life that is said to be lived by me till today. And some who were into my life for not so long, but left their footprints for me to cherish, with a belief that I will remain happy in ignorance and falsehood in the guise of a satisfied human being. I am sorry, I can’t be like that. I would request you to make me understand how should I? Lighting up a candle and expecting it doesn’t melt surely is a sign of living in falsehood. I don’t have anymore words on this.
May I dare say that I love the darker side of life? Yes, I do. But I feel its truth. Atleast I am sure to myself for accepting it? Or not? At times I am so bogged down and pessimistic that if someone got me the Kohinoor, I would throw it away feeling its thickness encloses a bomb. But then the posterity that follows in thought, the kindred spirits that I feel enchanted with, everything seems so beautiful, but sadly, short lived. I tend to over-analyze things, and often end up with word-beatings from friends and family, but I feel happy about the way I think and take decisions. Over the past few months, I have felt so confident professionally, taking extreme and bold decisions. At the same time, I have felt so weak emotionally. It seemed that I had a general stock of confidence that could be castled into confidence in profession and the confidence in thoughts & emotions. I overused it on the former one, and now facing lurking dangers because of the latter.
I love saying this “ I am feeling so numb”. I wrote it earlier and I write it again – “I love life for the numbness that it gave, taking the hits feeling that I am brave”. There are a plenty of things that pester me day and night. Where am I heading, what is going to happen in future, what about making it big, how big? What about losing someone in the time, no looking back, can I live without that someone, do I really need to think on it, or is it really too early, or, or, or? Seems I have been a false believer in the almighty, but nevertheless, in the end, I understand in sound state of mind that it’s all up to Thee. No matter how smart I try to be, the grey cells in quantity I invest, things that will finally happen, it’s all going to be in His will. It has to happen; I have to be a part of it, grown up me if I can enjoy it or childish me if I crib over it.
I feel so good after writing. I feel it’s the best way to vent ones feelings without letting them explode. But I do not expect it to be interpreted in my favor, always. It’s just a piece writing, a wanderer’s thoughts, but its neither too unrevealing. And I live in the hope, that I will understand myself one day, before anyone else does so.
-G
People who have loved me for what I am, people who always stood behind me, people who I know will miss me (and me will miss them too), when they encourage me, I just fall short of crying. I also feel like missing them - I have lived with them for long, for the life that is said to be lived by me till today. And some who were into my life for not so long, but left their footprints for me to cherish, with a belief that I will remain happy in ignorance and falsehood in the guise of a satisfied human being. I am sorry, I can’t be like that. I would request you to make me understand how should I? Lighting up a candle and expecting it doesn’t melt surely is a sign of living in falsehood. I don’t have anymore words on this.
May I dare say that I love the darker side of life? Yes, I do. But I feel its truth. Atleast I am sure to myself for accepting it? Or not? At times I am so bogged down and pessimistic that if someone got me the Kohinoor, I would throw it away feeling its thickness encloses a bomb. But then the posterity that follows in thought, the kindred spirits that I feel enchanted with, everything seems so beautiful, but sadly, short lived. I tend to over-analyze things, and often end up with word-beatings from friends and family, but I feel happy about the way I think and take decisions. Over the past few months, I have felt so confident professionally, taking extreme and bold decisions. At the same time, I have felt so weak emotionally. It seemed that I had a general stock of confidence that could be castled into confidence in profession and the confidence in thoughts & emotions. I overused it on the former one, and now facing lurking dangers because of the latter.
I love saying this “ I am feeling so numb”. I wrote it earlier and I write it again – “I love life for the numbness that it gave, taking the hits feeling that I am brave”. There are a plenty of things that pester me day and night. Where am I heading, what is going to happen in future, what about making it big, how big? What about losing someone in the time, no looking back, can I live without that someone, do I really need to think on it, or is it really too early, or, or, or? Seems I have been a false believer in the almighty, but nevertheless, in the end, I understand in sound state of mind that it’s all up to Thee. No matter how smart I try to be, the grey cells in quantity I invest, things that will finally happen, it’s all going to be in His will. It has to happen; I have to be a part of it, grown up me if I can enjoy it or childish me if I crib over it.
I feel so good after writing. I feel it’s the best way to vent ones feelings without letting them explode. But I do not expect it to be interpreted in my favor, always. It’s just a piece writing, a wanderer’s thoughts, but its neither too unrevealing. And I live in the hope, that I will understand myself one day, before anyone else does so.
-G
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Inspiration-e-Ghalib
Saurabh writes a beautiful four liner with inspiration from Ghalib. While roving through that post, I felt like extrapolating the feeling he tries to make effable. So without his permission :P, here it goes:
Saurabh:
muddat baad hi sahi, aap humein milne to aaye.
kaayal hum bhi hain mehmaan-nawaazi ke,
par is kabr mein se,
paani bhi poochein to kaise poochein...
Gursharan:
kabr mein hain to zarra mat samajhna,
aftab banne ki to chaah hi na ki,
aapne agar aakar awaz di hoti,
to khuda kasam, khuda ko khaak kar ke palkein bichaate.
eh khuda muafi tujhse maangenge nahin,
tune gar kabr mein jaan di hoti,
us zindagi ki to chaah hi na karte,
agar is bani-raun pal khwahishe-deedar hote.
bani-raun : that happens, existing in time.
Even I burst into laughter after writing words like palkein bichaate, khwahishe-deedar but this is the way Ghalib wrote. Each word he used to use would carry the meaning of a whole sentence that another poet will write. I remember him using some really complex vocabulary that made me leave the book ‘Urdu-i-Muallah’ mid way ( but I am gathering confidence again to start it).
Cheers!
-G
Saurabh:
muddat baad hi sahi, aap humein milne to aaye.
kaayal hum bhi hain mehmaan-nawaazi ke,
par is kabr mein se,
paani bhi poochein to kaise poochein...
Gursharan:
kabr mein hain to zarra mat samajhna,
aftab banne ki to chaah hi na ki,
aapne agar aakar awaz di hoti,
to khuda kasam, khuda ko khaak kar ke palkein bichaate.
eh khuda muafi tujhse maangenge nahin,
tune gar kabr mein jaan di hoti,
us zindagi ki to chaah hi na karte,
agar is bani-raun pal khwahishe-deedar hote.
bani-raun : that happens, existing in time.
Even I burst into laughter after writing words like palkein bichaate, khwahishe-deedar but this is the way Ghalib wrote. Each word he used to use would carry the meaning of a whole sentence that another poet will write. I remember him using some really complex vocabulary that made me leave the book ‘Urdu-i-Muallah’ mid way ( but I am gathering confidence again to start it).
Cheers!
-G
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Bi-selfness
I read on someone’s orkut profile that she believes she has two selves. I was so happy and delighted to find someone who has the same thought I have been trying to live from a good time now. The two selves in talk are within everyone, a fact verified from the writings of Asimov. One self is ourselves, that we call “me”, that is trying to be good to the world, trying to wallow in all luxuries of life, that makes sure you are loved by all and you love all. The other self is just what we are supposed to be, the reflection of our “true” mind and soul. The one self that talks to “me”, to always teach me something is never wrong. That’s what the soul is. That’s what we have been made to become and follow. So, dedicated to this human thought, that can help allay anything that hurts, below are some lines.
Me, Myself : The “Me” everyone knows, first self
Soul: The true “Me”, the second self.
Do you see what I see
Why do we live like this?
Is it because it is true
That ignorance is bliss?
Why am I so numb?
And life suddenly is fermenting in stum.
Is it that I take life too vapidly?
Nothing like I have to live, live happily.
Why do I live two selves?
Each mocking on the other on lost helves.
Why are the thoughts being whipped?
How did everything whisked?
Why can’t I let it go?
Please make me understand why is it so?
Everything I loved all way,
Someone steals them on fro of the sway*.
Clock of life is wound but once,
Can it be stopped, can I get this bunce**?
Want to live life as it spells,
Only wax, this dunce was never made to melt.
Back in that page of life,
Chirpy, bubbly with sparkling eyes,
Who was He? How was He?
That wasn’t I, coz sparkling can’t be without glee.
Looking back at time,
I think I never really got it right,
I only messed up some things,
The culprit me, sweating in the springs.
Confused in the twilight,
Never understood its going to be a day or night.
I need an antidote of light,
Waiting for it to come and make me bright***.
Let me give myself a blow,
A blow that takes me to the soul,
The soul has nothing to perfect,
May be that fits in my intellect?
I would then want to return,
Without anything that caused the burn,
Is it really going to be tough?
Do I need to curse myself and handle it rough?
Gursharan Singh, 9th July 2006, New Delhi.
Tidbits:
*as if it is swinging and in the “fro” of to- and- fro, someone takes it off
**good fortune, can I get lucky
*** bright here means closer to soul, reality, often a biting truth.
Me, Myself : The “Me” everyone knows, first self
Soul: The true “Me”, the second self.
Do you see what I see
Why do we live like this?
Is it because it is true
That ignorance is bliss?
Why am I so numb?
And life suddenly is fermenting in stum.
Is it that I take life too vapidly?
Nothing like I have to live, live happily.
Why do I live two selves?
Each mocking on the other on lost helves.
Why are the thoughts being whipped?
How did everything whisked?
Why can’t I let it go?
Please make me understand why is it so?
Everything I loved all way,
Someone steals them on fro of the sway*.
Clock of life is wound but once,
Can it be stopped, can I get this bunce**?
Want to live life as it spells,
Only wax, this dunce was never made to melt.
Back in that page of life,
Chirpy, bubbly with sparkling eyes,
Who was He? How was He?
That wasn’t I, coz sparkling can’t be without glee.
Looking back at time,
I think I never really got it right,
I only messed up some things,
The culprit me, sweating in the springs.
Confused in the twilight,
Never understood its going to be a day or night.
I need an antidote of light,
Waiting for it to come and make me bright***.
Let me give myself a blow,
A blow that takes me to the soul,
The soul has nothing to perfect,
May be that fits in my intellect?
I would then want to return,
Without anything that caused the burn,
Is it really going to be tough?
Do I need to curse myself and handle it rough?
Gursharan Singh, 9th July 2006, New Delhi.
Tidbits:
*as if it is swinging and in the “fro” of to- and- fro, someone takes it off
**good fortune, can I get lucky
*** bright here means closer to soul, reality, often a biting truth.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Murder of Milk
Shiv Kumar Batalvi, a renowned poet from Punjab, wrote his agony on the division of the country during the partition days. Titled as “Dhudh Da Katal” or the Murder of Milk” which signifies the murder of milk of his mother, mother Punjab who was murdered by division at that time. The English translation goes as :
I still remember it today
And you must remember it too
When together we murdered our mother
They killed my childhood they killed my mother
And a cold corpse was left at my place to rot.
I have a longing to die young
To go to realm of youth
After my demise.
I sing to conceal my agonies
Under the guise of lyrics
Sweet and serene the curses
Miserable and doleful verses.
I have been occupied
With burning the lamps
Of my own existence , fears
Feeding it with flowing oils
From my own saline tears.
I still remember it today
And you must remember it too
When together we murdered our mother
They killed my childhood they killed my mother
And a cold corpse was left at my place to rot.
I have a longing to die young
To go to realm of youth
After my demise.
I sing to conceal my agonies
Under the guise of lyrics
Sweet and serene the curses
Miserable and doleful verses.
I have been occupied
With burning the lamps
Of my own existence , fears
Feeding it with flowing oils
From my own saline tears.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Help me to remember Thee
First quarter of the day was that*,
abandoning the nocturnal tryst, experiencing the lat,
I laid on the mattress with that wildness and exploring thoughts,
did I ever think of Thee, is this from me what He sought?
Thankless, unappreciative, selfish and ungrateful - my soul abused me,
wanting to hide my face in the darkness that surrounded, crying for a re,
forgot that darkness is the truth, light its façade,
for light was never termed to be, if darkness not made to wade.
They say, when the cursing dusks, blessings dawn,
the ecstasy was ineffable like air, flower and the mystic spawn*.
The human so small and poor, to thank, appreciation seemed to be the only way,
devising ways to do it in sleep, the omen feeling started getting allay.
Started with “it” being in air, water and the fire,
the Sun showing “its” ruddy face, the moon so cold albeit able to light every poet’s pyre.
only Sun, moon, air, water and fire? “It” wasn’t so small,
said the kindred spirit, make it fast son, life will be short to think of all.
Rivers, seas, oceans, the flora and fauna, everything abundant, nothing in dearth,
the amazing attraction between the fly-aways of big bang, and a discovered life on earth.
Food for everyone, liquid, peace in nature He assured,
distributing wealth evenly as oil ’n’coal, never was it meant to be a selfish procure!
The calmness and love of a mother, carries the breeze,
the land and soil, saying nothing beneath your feet,
the soil, Oh my, is even so great, why boast of a glaive,
Sayeth wise, below my feet when I am alive, taking in its lap when I am in grave.
Twice semidiurnal is too less to call of You, calling only for a cure?
being One is the only worship I know, and forgetting you is not possible anymore.
With nature in Me, and I in nature, Your only form,
help me settle between Me and I, and fight this storm.
You are illimitable, infinite, sempiternal; I have no faculty to estimate your span,
I can only beg of knowing more of You, hold me, You are my can.
He, She, I and they have failed to understand Me, and Me failed with all imperceptible attempts,
take me in your lap, hold me in your arms my Sea,
save the falling, drying river, bestow me with “The” thoughts, O’ My Thee.
Gursharan Singh, 2nd July 2006, New Delhi.
Tidbits:
*First quarter of the day : 00:00 to 06:00 hours
**air, flower and the mystic spawn : refers to the fragrance that’s spawned when the air(wind) touches the flower and fills the atmosphere.
abandoning the nocturnal tryst, experiencing the lat,
I laid on the mattress with that wildness and exploring thoughts,
did I ever think of Thee, is this from me what He sought?
Thankless, unappreciative, selfish and ungrateful - my soul abused me,
wanting to hide my face in the darkness that surrounded, crying for a re,
forgot that darkness is the truth, light its façade,
for light was never termed to be, if darkness not made to wade.
They say, when the cursing dusks, blessings dawn,
the ecstasy was ineffable like air, flower and the mystic spawn*.
The human so small and poor, to thank, appreciation seemed to be the only way,
devising ways to do it in sleep, the omen feeling started getting allay.
Started with “it” being in air, water and the fire,
the Sun showing “its” ruddy face, the moon so cold albeit able to light every poet’s pyre.
only Sun, moon, air, water and fire? “It” wasn’t so small,
said the kindred spirit, make it fast son, life will be short to think of all.
Rivers, seas, oceans, the flora and fauna, everything abundant, nothing in dearth,
the amazing attraction between the fly-aways of big bang, and a discovered life on earth.
Food for everyone, liquid, peace in nature He assured,
distributing wealth evenly as oil ’n’coal, never was it meant to be a selfish procure!
The calmness and love of a mother, carries the breeze,
the land and soil, saying nothing beneath your feet,
the soil, Oh my, is even so great, why boast of a glaive,
Sayeth wise, below my feet when I am alive, taking in its lap when I am in grave.
Twice semidiurnal is too less to call of You, calling only for a cure?
being One is the only worship I know, and forgetting you is not possible anymore.
With nature in Me, and I in nature, Your only form,
help me settle between Me and I, and fight this storm.
You are illimitable, infinite, sempiternal; I have no faculty to estimate your span,
I can only beg of knowing more of You, hold me, You are my can.
He, She, I and they have failed to understand Me, and Me failed with all imperceptible attempts,
take me in your lap, hold me in your arms my Sea,
save the falling, drying river, bestow me with “The” thoughts, O’ My Thee.
Gursharan Singh, 2nd July 2006, New Delhi.
Tidbits:
*First quarter of the day : 00:00 to 06:00 hours
**air, flower and the mystic spawn : refers to the fragrance that’s spawned when the air(wind) touches the flower and fills the atmosphere.
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