Sunday, May 31, 2020
SPRKS IN CSF: Twerp (They come in many forms)
SPRKS IN CSF: Twerp (They come in many forms): Another poem that seems too close to the present ................ ................ Oh undigni...
Twerp (They come in many forms)
Another poem that seems too close to the present
................ ................
Oh undignified twerp of yesterday,
On the short air train ride, how did your day go?
I signify you, for a short blerb,
Did you feel too important,
As you huffed and swiped the crumb of paper,
Some one's reminder , left , lost to the heaps ,
To trash is its future, laid waste , a reminder , perhaps
Of a delta flight taken, a piece to board and seat,
Weary traveler long gone, his reminder left,
Yet you swiped it at me ,
Your entitled huff says it all ....
In your head disdain , you see an immigrant,
In it you see Black or Hispanic,none else blind as you are
You can't even read people or know countries,
Limited , almost dumb, is how I see you .
Yet you see not, nor look ...
Your whiteness you forget is just a few genes coding ,
Melanine it seems , you go back to serve and greet,
Again a few passengers on yet another flight...
A captain you are not , not even a supervisor ....
Did you see the Korean couple snicker at your haughty ways?
Guess not ... too important in a small swelling in your brain,
You do not see, just resent and fume,
Swelling of entitled self, with not even ample melanine in you...
Oh you insignificant twerp , with stripe of cabin crew ,
Donned just in your epidermis, you seethe every day, oh you twerp...
( poem by Pc-3, 10/21/18)
addendum
Oh insignificant twerps, what you donn differ, the insides all stay
Your swelled brain can't heed , the call to compassion,
No , the lack can never gain, lacks all, all around you,
Lack in melanine, lack in humanity,lack of all that is worth of soul,
With no soul you are no human, you breathe just hate,
With no soul, no sight ...life wasted in shape of human , oh twerps,
God weeps again for just the leaves and the wind hears it ,
With our sighs and tears the wind bears it all....
(poem by Pc-3, 05/30/2020)
................ ................
Oh undignified twerp of yesterday,
On the short air train ride, how did your day go?
I signify you, for a short blerb,
Did you feel too important,
As you huffed and swiped the crumb of paper,
Some one's reminder , left , lost to the heaps ,
To trash is its future, laid waste , a reminder , perhaps
Of a delta flight taken, a piece to board and seat,
Weary traveler long gone, his reminder left,
Yet you swiped it at me ,
Your entitled huff says it all ....
In your head disdain , you see an immigrant,
In it you see Black or Hispanic,none else blind as you are
You can't even read people or know countries,
Limited , almost dumb, is how I see you .
Yet you see not, nor look ...
Your whiteness you forget is just a few genes coding ,
Melanine it seems , you go back to serve and greet,
Again a few passengers on yet another flight...
A captain you are not , not even a supervisor ....
Did you see the Korean couple snicker at your haughty ways?
Guess not ... too important in a small swelling in your brain,
You do not see, just resent and fume,
Swelling of entitled self, with not even ample melanine in you...
Oh you insignificant twerp , with stripe of cabin crew ,
Donned just in your epidermis, you seethe every day, oh you twerp...
( poem by Pc-3, 10/21/18)
addendum
Oh insignificant twerps, what you donn differ, the insides all stay
Your swelled brain can't heed , the call to compassion,
No , the lack can never gain, lacks all, all around you,
Lack in melanine, lack in humanity,lack of all that is worth of soul,
With no soul you are no human, you breathe just hate,
With no soul, no sight ...life wasted in shape of human , oh twerps,
God weeps again for just the leaves and the wind hears it ,
With our sighs and tears the wind bears it all....
(poem by Pc-3, 05/30/2020)
Sunday, May 24, 2020
SPRKS IN CSF: In the present times ...
SPRKS IN CSF: In the present times ...: An old post , if changed to another current one , could still be apt for the times . My prayers and sympathies are with all those who suff...
In the present times ...
An old post , if changed to another current one , could still be apt for the times .
My prayers and sympathies are with all those who suffer, sick and the dying and those who care for them ...
In times when compassion seems to be lost in the face of greed , it is hard to not go back to past thoughts and to review life's many events and what shaped us through time .
Hence i am re-posting this
Ebola on our shores
One of the books I read as a child had a title akin to" myths and legends of the land". There is a story in the book about small pox- about goddess small pox; an angry narcissistic demanding goddess,(almost like the NRA) especially wrath-ful if she is not venerated enough... So she throws her deadly garland from the sky to fall on the rational nonbeliever who repents in his delirium , is how I think the story went, or could be how I read it...
When I first saw the picture of the Ebola virus, I thought of the garland, the deadly garland., I guess the difference being whether a DNA virus or an RNA virus.
Now that the garland has fallen to us, I wonder how it is going to evolve.
There are a few scenarios that play in my mind. In the ideal world scenario, every person has a conscience and is compassionate to others. So each contact self isolates , informs their doctor( who is competent and dedicated) , who then gets the systems(also well thought out and competent) and protocols moving, and all get treated well and equally, with dignity and care despite their color , creed , gender or financial status. But this is America, not Utopia, so.... may be that explains gun toting guards and not appropriate containment measures at the origination site.......
In our multi-layered communities and in the face of the stratified health care system , there is the need for a re-adjustment of conscience and care to contain this Ebola garland. In our health care system , a wonderfully nuanced and mostly invisibly stratified one, there are various ways this will all play out, even as the media ladles out its share of fear or misplaced security , with a dash of venom here and dash of disdain there...
The invisible and at times visible stratification of care is so great that, the ' who, where and what' matters the most- who is the patient,where are you at, what is the extent of your knowledge in health matters, who decides for your care, who sitting at a phone or computer screen decides to approve or deny your care, who stands to gain(not health wise but financially -of course) etc.
I have to say one is lucky if one has a competent team caring for you and the insurance god has mercy- that is where it all depends...
So when all is divyed up and the mistakes covered up, those that is not covered up exposed and executed in public by the media, the Ebola garland would have already gifted itself to many, some through sheer incompetence, but most through lack of compassionate care in this healthcare market, where the patient is always the forgotten one (or in this case the targeted one)... May be , just may be, this will make the health system to correct itself, may be this will awken the compassion, 'the do no harm' tenet - oh just a 'may be' that I dream for ,watching waste of resources poured into the wrong end of things every day in the health care land...ah the 'may be's....
My prayers and sympathies are with all those who suffer, sick and the dying and those who care for them ...
In times when compassion seems to be lost in the face of greed , it is hard to not go back to past thoughts and to review life's many events and what shaped us through time .
Hence i am re-posting this
Ebola on our shores
One of the books I read as a child had a title akin to" myths and legends of the land". There is a story in the book about small pox- about goddess small pox; an angry narcissistic demanding goddess,(almost like the NRA) especially wrath-ful if she is not venerated enough... So she throws her deadly garland from the sky to fall on the rational nonbeliever who repents in his delirium , is how I think the story went, or could be how I read it...
When I first saw the picture of the Ebola virus, I thought of the garland, the deadly garland., I guess the difference being whether a DNA virus or an RNA virus.
Now that the garland has fallen to us, I wonder how it is going to evolve.
There are a few scenarios that play in my mind. In the ideal world scenario, every person has a conscience and is compassionate to others. So each contact self isolates , informs their doctor( who is competent and dedicated) , who then gets the systems(also well thought out and competent) and protocols moving, and all get treated well and equally, with dignity and care despite their color , creed , gender or financial status. But this is America, not Utopia, so.... may be that explains gun toting guards and not appropriate containment measures at the origination site.......
In our multi-layered communities and in the face of the stratified health care system , there is the need for a re-adjustment of conscience and care to contain this Ebola garland. In our health care system , a wonderfully nuanced and mostly invisibly stratified one, there are various ways this will all play out, even as the media ladles out its share of fear or misplaced security , with a dash of venom here and dash of disdain there...
The invisible and at times visible stratification of care is so great that, the ' who, where and what' matters the most- who is the patient,where are you at, what is the extent of your knowledge in health matters, who decides for your care, who sitting at a phone or computer screen decides to approve or deny your care, who stands to gain(not health wise but financially -of course) etc.
I have to say one is lucky if one has a competent team caring for you and the insurance god has mercy- that is where it all depends...
So when all is divyed up and the mistakes covered up, those that is not covered up exposed and executed in public by the media, the Ebola garland would have already gifted itself to many, some through sheer incompetence, but most through lack of compassionate care in this healthcare market, where the patient is always the forgotten one (or in this case the targeted one)... May be , just may be, this will make the health system to correct itself, may be this will awken the compassion, 'the do no harm' tenet - oh just a 'may be' that I dream for ,watching waste of resources poured into the wrong end of things every day in the health care land...ah the 'may be's....
Saturday, March 21, 2020
SPRKS IN CSF: Nature- lost( help to prevent earth's demise)
SPRKS IN CSF: Nature- lost( help to prevent earth's demise): This seems once again more relevant today than a while back (many years ago), when it was written, after a walk. The coral reefs are dy...
Nature- lost( help to prevent earth's demise)
This seems once again more relevant today than a while back (many years ago, may be 2010 or so), when it was written, after a walk.
The coral reefs are dying at a higher rate, and the death of nature continues. The most destructive species-humans. Being the greatest pest of the present, are we gearing for our wipe-out as a species. very likely...or is it.. definitely- very likely..........
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Even as the drips of rain splatter,
Taking me yet again to a land,lost and gone,
Alive in my mind, ever so briefly,
Drops splatter there on fallen leaves,
Coconut trees sway, shower the ground,
As the wind spy on another humid morning,
Drops fall and clink on a stained jack-fruit leaf,
I lie there,watch the jack fruits, marvel and dream...
Open doors, open air and quiet days,
A childhood stored in memories...
Yet it comes un-announced,
Sweetness of water on a hot , dusty day,
Mangoes falling with the rain storm,
Dropped in their juicy ripeness,
Sweetness on my tongue, the pureness of joy,
Un-hurried life, now gone, never to return,
Thus I pray, nature take over please...
Even at a morn's walk, scrape the rubber soles,
Forgotten , the milky sap and all before,
All felled trees , dead to grow soured sap,
Axed to all future diverse flora's hope,
Even as I sip my share of BPA, exhale to exhaust,
Harried run to a volume practice, hurried minds forget,
Of all unhurried days stored away,
Of nature lost , forgotten long, all losses
Endangered lists,dismissed,discussed into oblivion
Yet I still pray, nature , take over please...
For my efforts are borne to the wind,
I wearily pray, lost, hopeless,in dismay;'Nature take over please'...
(looks like nature is trying a little, may be nature is doing its work naturally)
-----------------
The coral reefs are dying at a higher rate, and the death of nature continues. The most destructive species-humans. Being the greatest pest of the present, are we gearing for our wipe-out as a species. very likely...or is it.. definitely- very likely..........
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Even as the drips of rain splatter,
Taking me yet again to a land,lost and gone,
Alive in my mind, ever so briefly,
Drops splatter there on fallen leaves,
Coconut trees sway, shower the ground,
As the wind spy on another humid morning,
Drops fall and clink on a stained jack-fruit leaf,
I lie there,watch the jack fruits, marvel and dream...
Open doors, open air and quiet days,
A childhood stored in memories...
Yet it comes un-announced,
Sweetness of water on a hot , dusty day,
Mangoes falling with the rain storm,
Dropped in their juicy ripeness,
Sweetness on my tongue, the pureness of joy,
Un-hurried life, now gone, never to return,
Thus I pray, nature take over please...
Even at a morn's walk, scrape the rubber soles,
Forgotten , the milky sap and all before,
All felled trees , dead to grow soured sap,
Axed to all future diverse flora's hope,
Even as I sip my share of BPA, exhale to exhaust,
Harried run to a volume practice, hurried minds forget,
Of all unhurried days stored away,
Of nature lost , forgotten long, all losses
Endangered lists,dismissed,discussed into oblivion
Yet I still pray, nature , take over please...
For my efforts are borne to the wind,
I wearily pray, lost, hopeless,in dismay;'Nature take over please'...
(looks like nature is trying a little, may be nature is doing its work naturally)
-----------------
Monday, March 16, 2020
SPRKS IN CSF: anxiety
SPRKS IN CSF: anxiety: Anxiety is fears without any clear resolution, Fears that leave a trail of shadows in its wake
SPRKS IN CSF: anxiety
SPRKS IN CSF: anxiety: Anxiety is fears without any clear resolution, Fears that leave a trail of shadows in its wake
anxiety
Anxiety is fears without any clear resolution,
Fears that leave a trail of shadows in its wake
Fears that leave a trail of shadows in its wake
Sunday, February 2, 2020
SPRKS IN CSF: Oh pycnopodia
SPRKS IN CSF: Oh pycnopodia: Oh Pycnopodia, the carcass of democracy, at its death awaiteth , Your sensors have sensed it and to feed you go, With all those who cra...
Oh pycnopodia
Oh Pycnopodia, the carcass of democracy, at its death awaiteth ,
Your sensors have sensed it and to feed you go,
With all those who crave such a carcass, gluttons all...
Akin to a giant octopus , for long we nurtured the so called democracy,
But our efforts in vain, for long before us the reef had died,
All was just vain hopes for conscience and honor , for none lives ,
Just wisps of decay that flickered , in its ghostly glow ,
Of a long dead democracy , of a death of hope and of truths,
To the dead oceans , our personal truths too go to die , with us,
With our futures, present,past ;history too, all forgotten,
All laid to rest , for life cannot sustain in such toxic soup....
(poem by - pc3 - 01/31/2020)
Your sensors have sensed it and to feed you go,
With all those who crave such a carcass, gluttons all...
Akin to a giant octopus , for long we nurtured the so called democracy,
But our efforts in vain, for long before us the reef had died,
All was just vain hopes for conscience and honor , for none lives ,
Just wisps of decay that flickered , in its ghostly glow ,
Of a long dead democracy , of a death of hope and of truths,
To the dead oceans , our personal truths too go to die , with us,
With our futures, present,past ;history too, all forgotten,
All laid to rest , for life cannot sustain in such toxic soup....
(poem by - pc3 - 01/31/2020)
Tuesday, January 21, 2020
Oh Death
As I soared on the wings of a dream above the clouds , the phone call shocked me awake. I woke saying to myself" you cant die, I have to see you again" I stumbled at the hand set and heard the news, that my mother had died..
Then came the funeral, where she looked just as if she is sleeping and with insistence of my voice , i hoped I could wake her past the 90 yrs of living she did.
I came back after the funeral, still with the thought , that I will see her next time i visited.
The next week was all the talks of the big floods, so I could ignore the reality of a parents death. A week later Kofi Annan died , and it brought death to life for me again . So I mused, looks like you get to hang out with kofi Annan on the other side to my mothers picture .
Another ten days and during work , my collegue got a call that his mother passed away- she was 96.
It seemed unfair that he got his mother for 6 yrs more than me .
work and a busy schedule helped me to push it farther into the corners where my reality stayed covered under this veiled tiredness.
Then senator Mccain died.
It is all unfair .This has brought it full force into my reality realm .Why cant everyone who can guide you with their integrity stay alive and well for ever . I have so many questions to ask my mom, so much life advise i need from her on many things, on how to navigate life's dilemmas.
Now I am supposed to take charge to answer questions of conscience to myself and to my children and to others.
All these people that I respected, valued and learned from, are now gone . Now my mother can hang out with kindred souls on the other side ...Opinionated as she was, she taught us that respect for another person matters, and that the most important part for a person is to be true to your conscience
Then came the funeral, where she looked just as if she is sleeping and with insistence of my voice , i hoped I could wake her past the 90 yrs of living she did.
I came back after the funeral, still with the thought , that I will see her next time i visited.
The next week was all the talks of the big floods, so I could ignore the reality of a parents death. A week later Kofi Annan died , and it brought death to life for me again . So I mused, looks like you get to hang out with kofi Annan on the other side to my mothers picture .
Another ten days and during work , my collegue got a call that his mother passed away- she was 96.
It seemed unfair that he got his mother for 6 yrs more than me .
work and a busy schedule helped me to push it farther into the corners where my reality stayed covered under this veiled tiredness.
Then senator Mccain died.
It is all unfair .This has brought it full force into my reality realm .Why cant everyone who can guide you with their integrity stay alive and well for ever . I have so many questions to ask my mom, so much life advise i need from her on many things, on how to navigate life's dilemmas.
Now I am supposed to take charge to answer questions of conscience to myself and to my children and to others.
All these people that I respected, valued and learned from, are now gone . Now my mother can hang out with kindred souls on the other side ...Opinionated as she was, she taught us that respect for another person matters, and that the most important part for a person is to be true to your conscience
Friday, November 29, 2019
SPRKS IN CSF: Alex Trebek and Jeopordy....
SPRKS IN CSF: Alex Trebek and Jeopordy....: A lex Trebek , the longtime host of American television quiz show Jeopardy, has… announced he has cancer. In a video posted on Wednesday,...
Saturday, November 16, 2019
SPRKS IN CSF: Hikikomori (but i am no hermit)
SPRKS IN CSF: Hikikomori (but i am no hermit): Hikkomori, I say is how to be....now Yet breathe I do, Hence despite the shrink-films of now, Breathe I do... indeed I do So the now...
SPRKS IN CSF: Hikikomori (but i am no hermit)
SPRKS IN CSF: Hikikomori (but i am no hermit): Hikkomori, I say is how to be....now Yet breathe I do, Hence despite the shrink-films of now, Breathe I do... indeed I do So the now...
Hikikomori (but i am no hermit)
Hikkomori, I say is how to be....now
Yet breathe I do,
Hence despite the shrink-films of now,
Breathe I do... indeed I do
So the now may need to shrink unto itself, until it explodes ,
Thus , hikkomori, I may not be, I need not be ,I be never so ....
(poem by -pc3-Nov ,15,2019)
Yet breathe I do,
Hence despite the shrink-films of now,
Breathe I do... indeed I do
So the now may need to shrink unto itself, until it explodes ,
Thus , hikkomori, I may not be, I need not be ,I be never so ....
(poem by -pc3-Nov ,15,2019)
Thursday, October 31, 2019
SPRKS IN CSF: In the coming days...
SPRKS IN CSF: In the coming days...: Somewhere far , in the coming days , Talks of some report is astir, The mouse ran up the clock, Restless, uncertain,yet the clock struck...
In the coming days...
Somewhere far , in the coming days ,
Talks of some report is astir,
The mouse ran up the clock,
Restless, uncertain,yet the clock struck,
Announce the time ,it must ...
Shifting sands in the Sahara and Gobi moves,
Unrelated , here Muller moves ; on goes the day,
Slow , slow , slow yet... crows the sun...
As it rise for its slow move ,all just a perception of day,
Yet in a fantasy in the arctic, the polar bear and the seals hope,
That the ice stays as a real block, so they can too...
Elsewhere plans to shift news is astir,
Just so ,what's a tiny satellite, if not for friends, eh...
New ruses, to a muses' shift ,so shift the sands and ice ,
The mouse ran down the clock, search for its burrow, it must...
(a poem by -pc3,march 2019)
Talks of some report is astir,
The mouse ran up the clock,
Restless, uncertain,yet the clock struck,
Announce the time ,it must ...
Shifting sands in the Sahara and Gobi moves,
Unrelated , here Muller moves ; on goes the day,
Slow , slow , slow yet... crows the sun...
As it rise for its slow move ,all just a perception of day,
Yet in a fantasy in the arctic, the polar bear and the seals hope,
That the ice stays as a real block, so they can too...
Elsewhere plans to shift news is astir,
Just so ,what's a tiny satellite, if not for friends, eh...
New ruses, to a muses' shift ,so shift the sands and ice ,
The mouse ran down the clock, search for its burrow, it must...
(a poem by -pc3,march 2019)
Friday, October 18, 2019
SPRKS IN CSF: Elijah Cummings
SPRKS IN CSF: Elijah Cummings: I feel unmoored, sad and shocked , For a Giant who shone the light ,held it up standing tall His words gave me hope for this country, a...
Elijah Cummings
I feel unmoored, sad and shocked ,
For a Giant who shone the light ,held it up standing tall
His words gave me hope for this country, and hence the world ,
Now that light falters , none to hold it,rise so in stature,
None to fill in , None to loudly call to the light, the way,
I sigh, feel the weight of a mantle of lost hope ,
The envelope we all feel ,is darkness pressing down,
For the keeper of light is gone to his eternal sleep,
His voice just a memory, we sigh,hopes to still trudge on ,
On the right path, we plod on;
These days we need you more...
Carry your voice within , stay in hope always .
(poem by PC3, 10/17/2019)
For a Giant who shone the light ,held it up standing tall
His words gave me hope for this country, and hence the world ,
Now that light falters , none to hold it,rise so in stature,
None to fill in , None to loudly call to the light, the way,
I sigh, feel the weight of a mantle of lost hope ,
The envelope we all feel ,is darkness pressing down,
For the keeper of light is gone to his eternal sleep,
His voice just a memory, we sigh,hopes to still trudge on ,
On the right path, we plod on;
These days we need you more...
Carry your voice within , stay in hope always .
(poem by PC3, 10/17/2019)
Monday, October 7, 2019
SPRKS IN CSF: Ode to monarchs
SPRKS IN CSF: Ode to monarchs: The leaves are golden , warm jewels, they flit and fall, At times in one fell swoop , sway with the breeze , Then to hug the ground and ...
Ode to monarchs
The leaves are golden , warm jewels, they flit and fall,
At times in one fell swoop , sway with the breeze ,
Then to hug the ground and lay, blanket for the roots ;
Stay awhile oh sunshine,oh stay to warm our hearts,
The Monarchs have had their vote
All to soar with the wind and blow south they must,
Warmth of old times , just a memory in our hearts ...
To us all left in these cold times,we dream of the warm sun,
Team up and fly they must,
Just as all monarchs new and old ,
Flock to their shores , they must,
Force of their selves remain,unto their own they be true
Care for their selves, just so, unto them their prime goal
Come spring , hope awakens ,past the freeze to our souls,
Hopeful we search , for the greening of branches,
Hope for the sun , that stood the test of time,we all hope again...
(poem by pc 3 - 10/06/19)
At times in one fell swoop , sway with the breeze ,
Then to hug the ground and lay, blanket for the roots ;
Stay awhile oh sunshine,oh stay to warm our hearts,
The Monarchs have had their vote
All to soar with the wind and blow south they must,
Warmth of old times , just a memory in our hearts ...
To us all left in these cold times,we dream of the warm sun,
Team up and fly they must,
Just as all monarchs new and old ,
Flock to their shores , they must,
Force of their selves remain,unto their own they be true
Care for their selves, just so, unto them their prime goal
Come spring , hope awakens ,past the freeze to our souls,
Hopeful we search , for the greening of branches,
Hope for the sun , that stood the test of time,we all hope again...
(poem by pc 3 - 10/06/19)
Tuesday, March 12, 2019
SPRKS IN CSF: Alex Trebek and Jeopordy....
SPRKS IN CSF: Alex Trebek and Jeopordy....: A lex Trebek , the longtime host of American television quiz show Jeopardy, has… announced he has cancer. In a video posted on Wednesday,...
Alex Trebek and Jeopordy....
Alex Trebek, the longtime host of American television quiz show Jeopardy, has… announced he has cancer. In a video posted on Wednesday, Mr Trebek, 78, says he has been…Trebek has hosted Jeopardy since 1984.....
The news was shocking to me. Some how I never expected our dear jeopordy host to ever become sick, least of all sick with one with the gravest prognosis of all... But hope is what my life is built on,hope with a generous helping of faith intermixed with skepticism is how i picture the base layer of structural integrity that holds what I call 'my life' . Jeopardy played an integral part in my life- I want to thank Alex Trebek and jeopardy for giving me back life with the bits of identity that was left, rebuilding it to once again a me that is me... my life that could have been lost , along with the loss of future for another generation.As I held on to hope without knowing that it was hope , all those many years ago when an accidental meeting with a jeopardy clue sparked my life back into its own from the tattered and broken bits ...
Hope is hope , and so I hold tight as I navigate my day, with a tiny prayer and belief in miracles and hope for Alex Trebek to fight those invasive run amok cells , holding them all in check.
That first clue's answer, coming out involuntarily like my own inspirational breath moved a first step in my mind and unlocked a past where I had loved books, where words had joy and lightness was knowledge. That may have been just one of the many steps in a combination of complex steps that unbound my own mind held me hostage to the ravages of PTSD. Something clicked and the locks then started to unravel...To finally feel , to breathe, to be free to read, to freely think , to talk , all that took time and is still a slow path, but it does seem to go a bit faster despite periodic 'stuckness'. These days when my children visit we are all loud with our answers, when I watch it alone, I am just happy, just with the sense of reward to myself ...the joy of that simple pleasure is its own reward.
I do wish and hope the treatments will hold those unruly cells (all of them)in check, and pray and hope with all our hearts for his health. I am hopeful of the newer treatments coming out, fell they hold sparks of hope in them ...
The news was shocking to me. Some how I never expected our dear jeopordy host to ever become sick, least of all sick with one with the gravest prognosis of all... But hope is what my life is built on,hope with a generous helping of faith intermixed with skepticism is how i picture the base layer of structural integrity that holds what I call 'my life' . Jeopardy played an integral part in my life- I want to thank Alex Trebek and jeopardy for giving me back life with the bits of identity that was left, rebuilding it to once again a me that is me... my life that could have been lost , along with the loss of future for another generation.As I held on to hope without knowing that it was hope , all those many years ago when an accidental meeting with a jeopardy clue sparked my life back into its own from the tattered and broken bits ...
Hope is hope , and so I hold tight as I navigate my day, with a tiny prayer and belief in miracles and hope for Alex Trebek to fight those invasive run amok cells , holding them all in check.
That first clue's answer, coming out involuntarily like my own inspirational breath moved a first step in my mind and unlocked a past where I had loved books, where words had joy and lightness was knowledge. That may have been just one of the many steps in a combination of complex steps that unbound my own mind held me hostage to the ravages of PTSD. Something clicked and the locks then started to unravel...To finally feel , to breathe, to be free to read, to freely think , to talk , all that took time and is still a slow path, but it does seem to go a bit faster despite periodic 'stuckness'. These days when my children visit we are all loud with our answers, when I watch it alone, I am just happy, just with the sense of reward to myself ...the joy of that simple pleasure is its own reward.
I do wish and hope the treatments will hold those unruly cells (all of them)in check, and pray and hope with all our hearts for his health. I am hopeful of the newer treatments coming out, fell they hold sparks of hope in them ...
Monday, March 11, 2019
SPRKS IN CSF: In the coming days...
SPRKS IN CSF: In the coming days...: Somewhere far , in the coming days , Talks of some report is astir, The mouse ran up the clock, Restless, uncertain,yet the clock struck...
Friday, December 21, 2018
SPRKS IN CSF: Happy new year
SPRKS IN CSF: Happy new year: How to wish a happy new year... Trumpet it forth,loud and oft, Past few tantrums,great biggest ever ones, Past hold tight to your tummy,...
Happy new year
How to wish a happy new year...
Trumpet it forth,loud and oft,
Past few tantrums,great biggest ever ones,
Past hold tight to your tummy,
Gaurded with folded arms to hold tightly thy grand tummy,
Tumble in further chaos, in style,
Further it with tinsel and tweets,
And gand old snow storms ,
Those which come in winters ,
Thus to dispel any climate change...
Or portend future warming,until next time,
In smog filled lands,
Twwets through ozone holes,
And a Happy fools New year to you too...
(poem by pc3-12/20/18)
Trumpet it forth,loud and oft,
Past few tantrums,great biggest ever ones,
Past hold tight to your tummy,
Gaurded with folded arms to hold tightly thy grand tummy,
Tumble in further chaos, in style,
Further it with tinsel and tweets,
And gand old snow storms ,
Those which come in winters ,
Thus to dispel any climate change...
Or portend future warming,until next time,
In smog filled lands,
Twwets through ozone holes,
And a Happy fools New year to you too...
(poem by pc3-12/20/18)
Monday, November 26, 2018
SPRKS IN CSF: 'Anon' at Gilgo
SPRKS IN CSF: 'Anon' at Gilgo: "support the UN's International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women.".... 'Anon"- I had imagined it...
SPRKS IN CSF: 'Anon' at Gilgo
SPRKS IN CSF: 'Anon' at Gilgo: "support the UN's International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women.".... 'Anon"- I had imagined it...
Thursday, October 25, 2018
SPRKS IN CSF: Quiet
SPRKS IN CSF: Quiet: O little lamb, stay quiet just so; Not a peep, hold your bleat , a little while,oh do... The giant lumbers on the hills, A mantle of dus...
Quiet
O little lamb, stay quiet just so;
Not a peep, hold your bleat , a little while,oh do...
The giant lumbers on the hills,
A mantle of dust his cloak,
His food your tongues...
Do you hear the mute flock,
The thunder of their small hooves,
O dear little lamb ,quiet now,
So you can, when the air is free...
Some day, oh some day you bleats..
Yonder on the hills ,eyes of the hawk,
The giant thumps - not thunder,
The earth quakes, muffled, "no air here"
On the dunes, on the jebels,
Settles the bone dust of the shamaals ,
For the cold wind swirls in the hot breath,
The giants' breath, icicles at the edges,
Taste of tongues held like swirls of fog,
Oh little lamb, quiet your heart,yet listen;
Not in fear,but aware,and still,
The giant too moves quiet...
(poem by Pc-3, 10/24/18)
Not a peep, hold your bleat , a little while,oh do...
The giant lumbers on the hills,
A mantle of dust his cloak,
His food your tongues...
Do you hear the mute flock,
The thunder of their small hooves,
O dear little lamb ,quiet now,
So you can, when the air is free...
Some day, oh some day you bleats..
Yonder on the hills ,eyes of the hawk,
The giant thumps - not thunder,
The earth quakes, muffled, "no air here"
On the dunes, on the jebels,
Settles the bone dust of the shamaals ,
For the cold wind swirls in the hot breath,
The giants' breath, icicles at the edges,
Taste of tongues held like swirls of fog,
Oh little lamb, quiet your heart,yet listen;
Not in fear,but aware,and still,
The giant too moves quiet...
(poem by Pc-3, 10/24/18)
Tuesday, October 23, 2018
SPRKS IN CSF: Twerp
SPRKS IN CSF: Twerp: Oh undignified twerp of yesterday, On the short air train ride, how did your day go? I signify you, for a short blerb, Did you feel too ...
Saturday, October 6, 2018
SPRKS IN CSF: hope
SPRKS IN CSF: hope: The 2018 Nobel Peace Prize has gone to campaigners against rape in warfare, Nadia Murad and Denis Mukwege The winners announced in the...
hope
The 2018 Nobel Peace Prize has gone to campaigners against rape in warfare, Nadia Murad and Denis Mukwege
The winners announced in the Norwegian capital Oslo on Friday won the award for their "efforts to end the use of sexual violence as a weapon of war",
........
Hence there is hope for those who value the presence of conscience in the humans, at least for a moment...
May be change in the right direction could happen, in this world, even as each depraved act is minim in the wake of the next appalling one ......
Monday, October 1, 2018
SPRKS IN CSF: Sexual Harrassment - # Me too versus # Not Me ...
SPRKS IN CSF: Sexual Harrassment - # Me too versus # Not Me ...: The # me too and the talk of 'being victimized' brought up an important question to my mind.. . How many women or girls who present...
Sunday, September 30, 2018
Sexual Harrassment - # Me too versus # Not Me at all
The # me too and the talk of 'being victimized' brought up an important question to my mind.. . How many women or girls who presently occupy this earth can clearly and unequivocally say that they were never victimized in any form, not preyed upon, not violenced against or had a molestation attempt made towards them.
I for sure cannot stand under that umbrella. But I am not going to take it sitting down either. Years have gone by , even decades. I interact with those attemptor ones on many an occasion, in family, friend groups and some even professionally. But it still come as a surprise when in this ripe old age of mine ,a man purposely brushes up or grabs, and this still shocks me into silence .
The most recent event occurred while standing with a peer at a dinner event , my peer's husband grabbed me as he made his way to her side. what do you do...first you stare, in shocked surprise, then you recognize you have been muted, by the event and the fact that it is your peer nearby and there is no way to do much about it , its just awkward...
The occasion of the day and the public nature if it all further mutes you, even as you seethe over it repeatedly. I am grateful for a hawkine hovering by both my parents, ( even as I resented it so much at that time )so I was really spared these occurrences of untarnished sexual aggression that is laced with physical and emotional aggression until later in life... (even such a possibility did not cross my path until I was sixteen, when I yelled all the curses I could gather at the boy who ran to grab me on my way back from school and continued his run. I ran after him , threw whatever I could grab from the road side and then went and told my parents and the school--sixteen is elderly by the subcontinent gauge according to what I have understood from the lives of my friends at that time ).That subtle secure feeling may have helped me to go forward despite all these and many more that got piled on me , sometimes I think more than a lifetime can ever handle...
Yet there is more for life, more to worth measures in our lifetimes . I say power to the rare women who can say..."not me at all". For the others , more power to them to hold their heads high and go forward ,for there is so much to be done , to make even the slightest ripple in this oceanic vastness of powered aggressors and their deeds.
There is no time to rest, indeed .
I just saw the news item about sexual misconduct is discussed in the capitol hill, which gives me further hope.
All of us, mothers , grandmothers, aunts sisters and daughters have work to do...WE ALL NEED TO STAND UP TOGETHER , use our collective effort and make the change to change those around us , we ARE NOT victims, but powered ones who start that change ....
I for sure cannot stand under that umbrella. But I am not going to take it sitting down either. Years have gone by , even decades. I interact with those attemptor ones on many an occasion, in family, friend groups and some even professionally. But it still come as a surprise when in this ripe old age of mine ,a man purposely brushes up or grabs, and this still shocks me into silence .
The most recent event occurred while standing with a peer at a dinner event , my peer's husband grabbed me as he made his way to her side. what do you do...first you stare, in shocked surprise, then you recognize you have been muted, by the event and the fact that it is your peer nearby and there is no way to do much about it , its just awkward...
The occasion of the day and the public nature if it all further mutes you, even as you seethe over it repeatedly. I am grateful for a hawkine hovering by both my parents, ( even as I resented it so much at that time )so I was really spared these occurrences of untarnished sexual aggression that is laced with physical and emotional aggression until later in life... (even such a possibility did not cross my path until I was sixteen, when I yelled all the curses I could gather at the boy who ran to grab me on my way back from school and continued his run. I ran after him , threw whatever I could grab from the road side and then went and told my parents and the school--sixteen is elderly by the subcontinent gauge according to what I have understood from the lives of my friends at that time ).That subtle secure feeling may have helped me to go forward despite all these and many more that got piled on me , sometimes I think more than a lifetime can ever handle...
Yet there is more for life, more to worth measures in our lifetimes . I say power to the rare women who can say..."not me at all". For the others , more power to them to hold their heads high and go forward ,for there is so much to be done , to make even the slightest ripple in this oceanic vastness of powered aggressors and their deeds.
There is no time to rest, indeed .
I just saw the news item about sexual misconduct is discussed in the capitol hill, which gives me further hope.
All of us, mothers , grandmothers, aunts sisters and daughters have work to do...WE ALL NEED TO STAND UP TOGETHER , use our collective effort and make the change to change those around us , we ARE NOT victims, but powered ones who start that change ....
Wednesday, August 1, 2018
SPRKS IN CSF: elections in November
SPRKS IN CSF: elections in November: Facebook says it has removed 32 accounts and pages believed to have been set up to influence the mid-term US elections in November well ....
elections in November
Facebook says it has removed 32 accounts and pages believed to have been set up to influence the mid-term US elections in November
well ....
no surprise there , or is there?
Even if no human being turned up to vote , may be the chosen ones will win with a
full one hundred percent turned out and unanimously voted for towards that win...
well ....
no surprise there , or is there?
Even if no human being turned up to vote , may be the chosen ones will win with a
full one hundred percent turned out and unanimously voted for towards that win...
Wednesday, June 20, 2018
SPRKS IN CSF: Then,there...
SPRKS IN CSF: Then,there...: There, stare hard, into a morning... There, the sun still rises, but where? Then, is it my eyes that sees, or my dreaming senses; Then...
SPRKS IN CSF: SPRKS IN CSF: separated , at at ,at tender age......
SPRKS IN CSF: SPRKS IN CSF: separated , at at ,at tender age......: SPRKS IN CSF: separations : words, sounds separated children, man-made borders, shelter pets, crickets in a nuclear dust, cries , breaki...
Tuesday, June 19, 2018
SPRKS IN CSF: separated , at at ,at tender age...
SPRKS IN CSF: separations: words, sounds separated children, man-made borders, shelter pets, crickets in a nuclear dust, cries , breaking souls, repeat again -- h...
Friday, June 1, 2018
SPRKS IN CSF: Pardons-for sale?
SPRKS IN CSF: Pardons-for sale?: Pardons for sale?...perhaps What price..it depends, doesn't it ... The bell tolls, but for when, for whom,where? Who chooses the que...
Pardons-for sale?
Supreme court tolls loud, but who are you ,
To give a right to defile , God's own temple?
Who indeed to get numbers up , then again for whom ?
For satan or at heaven's gate ?, or both ??
All fools run to pack the brick temples ,
To lay bare soul's temples ,to be ravaged , for corona ?
Dare you now in the dark of power , blindly purport
Sacredness , light and God ... all gods just names ,
Knell the death toll to sense,
Bodies lay here heaped ,past all effort to get a breath in ,
Suffering- all in 'God's name'?...oh dear God have mercy ,
For them who unleashed this misery , with their crosses and robes as wepons ,
And us all , who suffer beneath that curse ,
Prayer for ND and jenkins too, they are lost, all just praise to power
Blinded to light and sans sense or compassion ,
Money changers of today , they all defile humanity...
Wednesday, May 30, 2018
SPRKS IN CSF: Why
SPRKS IN CSF: Why: Why the divide? why are we stuck?Why the racism ? why cant we move to the lighted side of moral living ? I ask the question 'why' ...
Why
Why the divide? why are we stuck?Why the racism ? why cant we move to the lighted side of moral living ?
I ask the question 'why' so many times during the day, may be more frequently than when I was four or five years old. The current whys comes as an auto exasperation response. I like my younger version 'why's- they got a response that was satisfying to my curious mind.
Today's 'why's go , ambiguously into the demise of humanity realm.
I am not complaining about the various tweets that are racist, that is those peoples' opinion...please don't you call that "their bias", in fact call it what it is - pure unadulterated racism that drives this country now . But why?
If only we could use those dark minds' to power our energy needs, like using dark matter to give energy, light , to make the darkness dissipate ... well may be in that 'alternate utopia' they use that as a resource .That land sure is thriving with alternate facts.
Let me digress briefly from talking about overt aggression and instead talk about micro-aggression
I thought this whole country knew micro aggression as a daily fact of life .
When I go to my neighborhood key food store and the snarly cashier reluctantly drops the bill and the change into my hand , careful not to touch me even accidentally and rolls her eyes as I exit , I ignore it. I know that she has to do cashiering as a job and that my taxes would go to support her if she lost that job .I have to say at times I seek out her counter , just to make her day uncomfortable . oh well...I never said I am saintly...
I also have to thank my neighbor for his kindly entitled advise of last week -as he barged into my back yard as I was closing the gate, suggesting , asking if "I have considered moving , as a way of downsizing , especially as children are grown and live in different places ".So noble of him to want his neighborhood to be purer , racially speaking ...I do not question why he has not considered downsizing as his children had moved away few years before mine did . Instead I just smile and nod and ask him 'what his children are doing'? ..
As I politely nod and say 'how nice ', he feels the need to reciprocate asking me that question about my children .So I gleefully explain each of their careers .Sorry if it bothers him more that a brownie has more brownie points through education and he makes a quick exit, surely with an acute attack by the jealousy gods.
Oh if only his darkness could heat a few homes ...Why all this darkness , oh people , why indeed?
I ask the question 'why' so many times during the day, may be more frequently than when I was four or five years old. The current whys comes as an auto exasperation response. I like my younger version 'why's- they got a response that was satisfying to my curious mind.
Today's 'why's go , ambiguously into the demise of humanity realm.
I am not complaining about the various tweets that are racist, that is those peoples' opinion...please don't you call that "their bias", in fact call it what it is - pure unadulterated racism that drives this country now . But why?
If only we could use those dark minds' to power our energy needs, like using dark matter to give energy, light , to make the darkness dissipate ... well may be in that 'alternate utopia' they use that as a resource .That land sure is thriving with alternate facts.
Let me digress briefly from talking about overt aggression and instead talk about micro-aggression
I thought this whole country knew micro aggression as a daily fact of life .
When I go to my neighborhood key food store and the snarly cashier reluctantly drops the bill and the change into my hand , careful not to touch me even accidentally and rolls her eyes as I exit , I ignore it. I know that she has to do cashiering as a job and that my taxes would go to support her if she lost that job .I have to say at times I seek out her counter , just to make her day uncomfortable . oh well...I never said I am saintly...
I also have to thank my neighbor for his kindly entitled advise of last week -as he barged into my back yard as I was closing the gate, suggesting , asking if "I have considered moving , as a way of downsizing , especially as children are grown and live in different places ".So noble of him to want his neighborhood to be purer , racially speaking ...I do not question why he has not considered downsizing as his children had moved away few years before mine did . Instead I just smile and nod and ask him 'what his children are doing'? ..
As I politely nod and say 'how nice ', he feels the need to reciprocate asking me that question about my children .So I gleefully explain each of their careers .Sorry if it bothers him more that a brownie has more brownie points through education and he makes a quick exit, surely with an acute attack by the jealousy gods.
Oh if only his darkness could heat a few homes ...Why all this darkness , oh people , why indeed?
Sunday, March 25, 2018
SPRKS IN CSF: MARCH FOR OUR LIVES - the letter to my children
SPRKS IN CSF: MARCH FOR OUR LIVES - the letter to my children: What was written below was more than an year old , yet relevant as we march , march for our lives It is more relevant today when childr...
MARCH FOR OUR LIVES - the letter to my children
What was written below was more than an year old , yet relevant as we march , march for our lives
It is more relevant today when children in this country has decided to act and be clear against what is wrong, they have made their voices heard with right thoughts ...Things do look similar and may be this letter remains ever more relevant today than when I wrote it for my children ...before we could even imagine this level of decline and chaos
Kaos did win and the chaos continues
Hence i shall re-post it / blog it again
(peace crane 3 - )
I look at my initial thoughts, and I am not so sure any more. But one still has to act.In the shifting sands of time , all become irrelevant, even the revered spots have a way of being erased of its values. As some in the world take a moment to look into history , and memorialize a horrid past point, we stare aghast at a future of horrors and irreverent days that stare back . I for one feel the whole world should act , in quest of freedoms, and right to live peacefully .
Lost freedoms ,and lost lives do matter .
Lets remember and act on the many losses as we remember the lost .
'My dear children,
I have to advice you all not to loose heart, despite the much feared event-a Kaos presidency.
You are all blessed with wisdom that life gives..the values of moderation.
You have gone past the rigors of an education system that advises you to think , while abhorring your questioning and thinking minds...
You have managed to get into the adult world, where nothing is fair, yet with your determined souls you have made each of your environments a little bit more fairer for all.
You have witnessed the closet racism, the bigotry, and even the master mentality of someone . At times you re-call those few occasions and have risen above it all.So with these experiences have come wisdom.It may seem like desperate times, but now is not the time to despair.This is the time for thought as well as action and there is much work to do.
THINK , because thought is not controlled by any, besides it allows you to bounce various ideas, stretch and contract things in your mind without any restraint.Out of thought is born actions, and clarity.
You may be quiet, which is alien to the majority in this nation, may be even to the vast world , especially because the process of contemplation and thought are somewhat alien here as well.
Hence we have this new president((not surprising ..)
You have experienced many a conflict...conflicts of identity,ideals and the external conflicts of power that is inherent in every community, including its smallest unit- the family and the individual...
It gives me great hope for the future as you all manage your lives,I am sure you will negotiate change, including your efforts to change policy, even beyond your areas of expertise into the outer world far beyond your comfortable niches.
You will also learn much about adaptability and creating change without loosing your inner selves, as I did over time.
So my advice to you all- make the change, just as the gentle waves do,but assured that your efforts will produce change. The tsunamis may have usurped the beaches, but the gentle waves persist and round out the jagged edges,where they break...
So go forth with clarity and the efforts that persist , joining forces with the many moderates out there just like you, ones with clarity and goodness in their souls, who strive for change,in the midst of a mindless robotic prattling lot and the many that have destruction and hate within them ...
Do not despair, loud bangs do not carry the weight of clear thoughts, it's just noise and remains brief...'
If withe clarity in your minds, you need swiftness of action, or persistance, do not give up ...Go with determination , yet clear in your minds and remain true to the right thoughts and actions
Wednesday, March 14, 2018
SPRKS IN CSF: Stephen Hawking
SPRKS IN CSF: Stephen Hawking: Visionary physicist Professor Stephen Hawking has died, aged 76.... Where time drags, hope seem far, all around us , Look up at the vas...
Stephen Hawking
Visionary physicist Professor Stephen Hawking has died, aged 76....
Where time drags, hope seem far, all around us ,
Look up at the vastness above,
There too is change, but perceived here ,
If ever in a future , may be as hope ...or none,
Yet , our minutiae in the vastness of universe
And time in itself is hope, imperfect yet there...
(by pc 3)
Where time drags, hope seem far, all around us ,
Look up at the vastness above,
There too is change, but perceived here ,
If ever in a future , may be as hope ...or none,
Yet , our minutiae in the vastness of universe
And time in itself is hope, imperfect yet there...
(by pc 3)
SPRKS IN CSF: He only.... me once
SPRKS IN CSF: He only.... me once: " He only.... me once" , I heard Lawrence O'donnell on MSNBC ( www.msnbc.com/the-last-word ) address the new gaping w...
Friday, February 9, 2018
He only.... me once
"He only.... me once" , I heard Lawrence O'donnell on MSNBC ( www.msnbc.com/the-last-word )address the new gaping wound in the new era in our new new , all new and improved nation, the very new improved USSAR....
its past -- way past, ' me too'.... and all words fail me
May be thus wordless I can ease into a future , where dementia is comforting,
Where thoughts and sense die frozen....
addendum(03/13/18)
The flag as a smock , yes that too I heard today,
All respect for all that should be ,all as is decimated
Be it Liberty,Nature or respectable values ,
Where all go to die, its time , lost into the mesh of matter and time,
There we ease into comfort and call it dementia,
It then becomes suspended state of all lost , and hopes of peace ...
(by -pc3)
Tuesday, January 23, 2018
SPRKS IN CSF: Womens March
SPRKS IN CSF: Womens March: The women marched , head held up , stand up to bullies of the just, As bullies gulped down more beef to give grief, the women marched , h...
Womens March
The women marched , heads held up , stand up to bullies of the just,
As bullies gulped down more beef to give grief,
The women marched , here there every where..
They walked , strength in their hearts , worn down , may be by life,
But with the right that comes of being , they walked ,
They walked on , theirs the strength of courage , of honor to what is right , they walked ...
On they walked , even as zoolander mimed before the mikes in jordan,
Looking into the smoky sphere, images of future through the fog there,
Glimpses...out by June and in by July, for clarity with time -perhaps,
Out of a house into another , is it for the blob? may be clearer tomorrow ,
Out there lies the future, not yet divined...yet they walked ,
They walked on feet that fretted before , carrying a determined grace within,
Shining the light for strength of hearts, of just actions , to a right path ...
For future that must shine , their feet stroked the earth,in waves , yes indeed...
( by PC3, 01/21/18)
As bullies gulped down more beef to give grief,
The women marched , here there every where..
They walked , strength in their hearts , worn down , may be by life,
But with the right that comes of being , they walked ,
They walked on , theirs the strength of courage , of honor to what is right , they walked ...
On they walked , even as zoolander mimed before the mikes in jordan,
Looking into the smoky sphere, images of future through the fog there,
Glimpses...out by June and in by July, for clarity with time -perhaps,
Out of a house into another , is it for the blob? may be clearer tomorrow ,
Out there lies the future, not yet divined...yet they walked ,
They walked on feet that fretted before , carrying a determined grace within,
Shining the light for strength of hearts, of just actions , to a right path ...
For future that must shine , their feet stroked the earth,in waves , yes indeed...
( by PC3, 01/21/18)
Tuesday, January 16, 2018
Then,there...
There, stare hard, into a morning...
There, the sun still rises, but where?
Then, is it my eyes that sees, or my dreaming senses;
Then, do I stare, at the unformed edges,
Or is it the foaming edges that quake, nay wither?
Again , what is it that my eyes behold...
If they behold at all?
At the edges ,bubbles form, in frosty specks,
At the edge of conscience, freezer burns,
They were there, silent , waiting,sheathed,
Silent in the hearts, in the minds, bubbling,
Yet deform , all despite time , cold and hardening...
The days , they still form, but the inner sanctums,
To all deities lay defiled,freeze burned consciences that scatter...
Poem by P c 3 ---(08/12/17)
There, the sun still rises, but where?
Then, is it my eyes that sees, or my dreaming senses;
Then, do I stare, at the unformed edges,
Or is it the foaming edges that quake, nay wither?
Again , what is it that my eyes behold...
If they behold at all?
At the edges ,bubbles form, in frosty specks,
At the edge of conscience, freezer burns,
They were there, silent , waiting,sheathed,
Silent in the hearts, in the minds, bubbling,
Yet deform , all despite time , cold and hardening...
The days , they still form, but the inner sanctums,
To all deities lay defiled,freeze burned consciences that scatter...
Poem by P c 3 ---(08/12/17)
Monday, January 8, 2018
SPRKS IN CSF: Harry pothen and the end of the universe ( story t...
SPRKS IN CSF: Harry pothen and the end of the universe ( story t...: "nuclear disaster may be a "tantrum away' ,said Beatrice Fihn The time of Harry potter could not contend to where the uni...
Sunday, January 7, 2018
Life , History and ...all ours?
(I write for those whose voice is stilled or who cannot speak...(Peace crane 3))
My voice, my thoughts , all mine,yet for how long ...
For the voices stilled, for the thoughts bound,
Thoughts that find no anchor, that they just are, wandering,
Bubbling in , untethered voice, with no vessel to place ,
Is this what all abuse costs,
Some mute with thoughts bound,
Fears just keep rekindling,
For all ,dances with no end,
Into act and react and all to dance again,
Yet in others' constant embers burn,
Stained memories that don't tether,
Kynuerins and toxins accumulate,spills into words,
Into a dance of steps, non-steps,missteps all,
Bereft of rhythm, of music,
All call it life, yet forget life it is not...
My rooms are in disarray,
Reflects my mind , my brain..
Chaos the theme of the times
I am no artist , but I dance and call it life...
In the shadows bears prowl and snakes slither,
Shadow deeds go on endless, disdain its aura,
Their ilk knows to bind,endless
Knows that dance, to humor all fears,
For one to survive, for life,it all remains the same...
Through centuries, through generations,
Them faltered steps never cease to amuse the powers,
In despair, human souls, they crumple,yet shadows prowl, persists...
Rising from the sea with their shining marks,
We, the masses stare, adore even,
As our eyes burn holes into our brains,
Leaning in, into "just fears",senseless and bound,
Yes, we repeat and replay and call it always- history...
They remain a bit varied; we all act our parts,
Yet again that replay is but our lives...
(poem by pc3- 10/14/17)
My voice, my thoughts , all mine,yet for how long ...
For the voices stilled, for the thoughts bound,
Thoughts that find no anchor, that they just are, wandering,
Bubbling in , untethered voice, with no vessel to place ,
Is this what all abuse costs,
Some mute with thoughts bound,
Fears just keep rekindling,
For all ,dances with no end,
Into act and react and all to dance again,
Yet in others' constant embers burn,
Stained memories that don't tether,
Kynuerins and toxins accumulate,spills into words,
Into a dance of steps, non-steps,missteps all,
Bereft of rhythm, of music,
All call it life, yet forget life it is not...
My rooms are in disarray,
Reflects my mind , my brain..
Chaos the theme of the times
I am no artist , but I dance and call it life...
In the shadows bears prowl and snakes slither,
Shadow deeds go on endless, disdain its aura,
Their ilk knows to bind,endless
Knows that dance, to humor all fears,
For one to survive, for life,it all remains the same...
Through centuries, through generations,
Them faltered steps never cease to amuse the powers,
In despair, human souls, they crumple,yet shadows prowl, persists...
Rising from the sea with their shining marks,
We, the masses stare, adore even,
As our eyes burn holes into our brains,
Leaning in, into "just fears",senseless and bound,
Yes, we repeat and replay and call it always- history...
They remain a bit varied; we all act our parts,
Yet again that replay is but our lives...
(poem by pc3- 10/14/17)
Thursday, December 14, 2017
SPRKS IN CSF: Snow
SPRKS IN CSF: Snow: Snow falls ever so gently, Dust and and water in their yin yang dance, Softly blankets the grass,withered and brown, Forgotten , is that...
SPRKS IN CSF: Snow
SPRKS IN CSF: Snow: Snow falls ever so gently, Dust and and water in their yin yang dance, Softly blankets the grass,withered and brown, Forgotten , is that...
Monday, December 11, 2017
SPRKS IN CSF: Harry pothen and the end of the universe ( story t...
SPRKS IN CSF: Harry pothen and the end of the universe ( story t...: "nuclear disaster may be a "tantrum away' ,said Beatrice Fihn The time of Harry potter could not contend to where the uni...
Sunday, December 10, 2017
Snow
Snow falls ever so gently,
Dust and and water in their yin yang dance,
Softly blankets the grass,withered and brown,
Forgotten , is that smell of fresh that rise with the dew ,
As the sun smiles , hopes on spring...to future , yet so far...
( a poem by Pc3-12/10/17)
Yet now the sun shines ,
Ever so brief, beyond the clouds,
Hopes for hope itself,
Dignity budding ,
Portends to spring ,to warmer days,
To the suns magic, to the unseen and unsung,
Salve for hope, to a future spring ,
Oh Alabama...
The parched earth need some rain and sun,
So the leaves can sprout , for humanity,
Oh Alabama , for beyond darkness....
wake , o Nation , from hibernation...
From slumber,to the day...
( a continuation poem by Pc 3- 12/12/17)
Dust and and water in their yin yang dance,
Softly blankets the grass,withered and brown,
Forgotten , is that smell of fresh that rise with the dew ,
As the sun smiles , hopes on spring...to future , yet so far...
Just cold seeps and settle , all hopes and scents lost to apathy,
Scant days and long shadows...days that reflect wretched lives...( a poem by Pc3-12/10/17)
Yet now the sun shines ,
Ever so brief, beyond the clouds,
Hopes for hope itself,
Dignity budding ,
Portends to spring ,to warmer days,
To the suns magic, to the unseen and unsung,
Salve for hope, to a future spring ,
Oh Alabama...
The parched earth need some rain and sun,
So the leaves can sprout , for humanity,
Oh Alabama , for beyond darkness....
wake , o Nation , from hibernation...
From slumber,to the day...
( a continuation poem by Pc 3- 12/12/17)
Friday, December 8, 2017
SPRKS IN CSF: Harry pothan and the end of the universe ( story t...
SPRKS IN CSF: Harry pothan and the end of the universe ( story t...: The time of Harry potter could not contend to where the universe is headed , hence that story could not be written. I love J K Rowling, but...
Harry pothen and the end of the universe ( story that cannot be told )
"nuclear disaster may be a "tantrum away' ,said Beatrice Fihn
The time of Harry potter could not contend to where the universe is headed , hence that story could not be written. I love J K Rowling, but I fear she could not write the story for fear of what may come to pass.
Yet the unwritten story has to be told ,in this world of alternate realities. There was Voldemort, but because now with Voldemort's demise harry went into retirement . The universe had not come to a point in time yet to think that he( Voldemort) could be reborn as a modern Hydra ,and is now known as " the one who cannot be named".
If anyone utters the name , the head swells and regenerates into alternate realities and creates more such heads all over the universe ...hence he remains as " the one who cannot be named"
In this universe, it is now up to harry pothen ( the real harry Pothen had returned to dust so long ago and harry potter retired) or the many alternate versions of harry pothen to strive to get the universe from imploding
The followers of " the one who cannot be named " are ecstatic...
Yes, they have seen the signs, of darkness rising, in those clouds , in their 'lead, antimony, asbestos methane'layers, and they marvel how those precisely arranged layers are at once soft and heavy to poke at the ozone ...
"yes the ozone is a bubble that don't stand a chance against the dark lord", they all chant in unison as they run around shooting their new shiny guns off at the ozone
" have you seen them fires burn and make the day into night , just like after the oil wells burned, so beautiful " they all coo in unison.
" Have you heard the echoes, that is like the rumble of the earth and yet maim like ignorance, so great..."
" its a beautiful thing, trust me, it is wonderful"
" yes all news is fake news , the only reality is the alternate one, and it changes like the gold and crystals in the rainbow " and they run towards the rainbow.At the end of the rainbow is their said pot of gold ..." yes these new tax changes will make the gold grow bigger nuggets in that rainbow" they all screech,yelping with pride
Harry pothen is confused as the world without order is like anti-matter and he is matter , now can he ever hope to succeed, "yes only time will tell , indeed only time can ", he sighs as the light bends and universe gets closer to imploding ...' as it has been said in the stars, even before time was born'
The time of Harry potter could not contend to where the universe is headed , hence that story could not be written. I love J K Rowling, but I fear she could not write the story for fear of what may come to pass.
Yet the unwritten story has to be told ,in this world of alternate realities. There was Voldemort, but because now with Voldemort's demise harry went into retirement . The universe had not come to a point in time yet to think that he( Voldemort) could be reborn as a modern Hydra ,and is now known as " the one who cannot be named".
If anyone utters the name , the head swells and regenerates into alternate realities and creates more such heads all over the universe ...hence he remains as " the one who cannot be named"
In this universe, it is now up to harry pothen ( the real harry Pothen had returned to dust so long ago and harry potter retired) or the many alternate versions of harry pothen to strive to get the universe from imploding
The followers of " the one who cannot be named " are ecstatic...
Yes, they have seen the signs, of darkness rising, in those clouds , in their 'lead, antimony, asbestos methane'layers, and they marvel how those precisely arranged layers are at once soft and heavy to poke at the ozone ...
"yes the ozone is a bubble that don't stand a chance against the dark lord", they all chant in unison as they run around shooting their new shiny guns off at the ozone
" have you seen them fires burn and make the day into night , just like after the oil wells burned, so beautiful " they all coo in unison.
" Have you heard the echoes, that is like the rumble of the earth and yet maim like ignorance, so great..."
" its a beautiful thing, trust me, it is wonderful"
" yes all news is fake news , the only reality is the alternate one, and it changes like the gold and crystals in the rainbow " and they run towards the rainbow.At the end of the rainbow is their said pot of gold ..." yes these new tax changes will make the gold grow bigger nuggets in that rainbow" they all screech,yelping with pride
Harry pothen is confused as the world without order is like anti-matter and he is matter , now can he ever hope to succeed, "yes only time will tell , indeed only time can ", he sighs as the light bends and universe gets closer to imploding ...' as it has been said in the stars, even before time was born'
Friday, November 17, 2017
SPRKS IN CSF: Sexual Harrassment - # Me too versus # Not Me ...
SPRKS IN CSF: Sexual Harrassment - # Me too versus # Not Me ...: The # me too and the talk of 'being victimized' brought up an important question to my mind.. . How many women or girls who present...
SPRKS IN CSF: Sexual Harrassment - # Me too versus # Not Me ...
SPRKS IN CSF: Sexual Harrassment - # Me too versus # Not Me ...: The # me too and the talk of 'being victimized' brought up an important question to my mind.. . How many women or girls who present...
Saturday, October 21, 2017
SPRKS IN CSF: O so important (a poem by Pc3)
SPRKS IN CSF: O so important (a poem by Pc3): So important I feel, I am a snow flake Floating the web, As it floats down ... Oh so important I flutter, In the Far corners of cold,...
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
SPRKS IN CSF: Life , History and ...all ours?
SPRKS IN CSF: Life , History and ...all ours?: (I write for those whose voice is stilled or who cannot speak...(Peace crane 3)) My voice, my thoughts , all mine,yet for how long ... F...
Thursday, October 12, 2017
SPRKS IN CSF: SPRKS IN CSF: circadian Rythm-at last your time
SPRKS IN CSF: SPRKS IN CSF: circadian Rythm-at last your time: SPRKS IN CSF: circadian Rythm-at last your time : Three scientists who unravelled how our bodies tell time have won the 2017 Nobel Prize for...
SPRKS IN CSF: SPRKS IN CSF: on Rape and molestations
SPRKS IN CSF: SPRKS IN CSF: on Rape and molestations: SPRKS IN CSF: on Rape and molestations : "The future of nations is echoed in the footfalls of its women..." In the past few day...
SPRKS IN CSF: on Violence to women...at every step
SPRKS IN CSF: on Violence to women...at every step: Gender violence is one of the world’s most common human rights abuses. Women worldwide ages 15 through 44 are more likely to die or be ma...
on Violence to women...at every step
Gender violence is one of the world’s most common human rights abuses. Women worldwide ages 15 through 44 are more likely to die or be maimed because of male violence than because of cancer, malaria, war and traffic accidents combined. The World Health Organization has found that domestic and sexual violence affects 30 to 60 percent of women in most countries.
Rape and domestic violence are words that once removed from the immediacy of the event , whether by time or a mind set in emotional distance, just becomes just too clinical, almost devoid of all that went with it , attached to it. Hence it becomes mere words at some point and yet at other times unreal. The Indian student's death sparked an outcry few years ago , and then it quieted down.There was a celebrity serial molestation buzz for a while, in the US and it too went quiet .
Now something is again awakened of the culture of rape,and its trails into lives of someone else...It may fizzle out with time, but the directed violences will continue . That is almost a given , assured outcome, about lives...with another outcry at the next expose' or next event that comes to light .
All those who are harassed, go through the spacing , almost ritualistically, pushing it out with time. You are lucky if you have done something in a retaliatory fashion , however small, because that alone gives you a certain sense of wholeness.
How-ever, when it is repeated violence , at home,or what surround you,nay follow you in society, then the fabric of self gets worn...gradually shredding your identity. Thus you are no more a whole,but only pieces, as if they are all different in someways, and the person that is you become some flyaway bits you are always gathering up.
Sometimes pushing back can be more damaging, so you wait for a chance and selectively defend parts of your integral self. Some just push it all into a sac that grows wearisome with time, then gets scarred over and your soul gets a little bit darker, as you go through life, never again consciously touching that scarred over foreignness...just barely knowing it , just barely being.
Then, some thing stirs and you remember, your wholeness, almost with the uncertainity of a dream... The memory of a whole follow you , a shadow that evolve, as the scars scale up and fall in bits...you trail through like with the shadow a constant companion, even as you seek that elusive wholeness...
Now something is again awakened of the culture of rape,and its trails into lives of someone else...It may fizzle out with time, but the directed violences will continue . That is almost a given , assured outcome, about lives...with another outcry at the next expose' or next event that comes to light .
All those who are harassed, go through the spacing , almost ritualistically, pushing it out with time. You are lucky if you have done something in a retaliatory fashion , however small, because that alone gives you a certain sense of wholeness.
How-ever, when it is repeated violence , at home,or what surround you,nay follow you in society, then the fabric of self gets worn...gradually shredding your identity. Thus you are no more a whole,but only pieces, as if they are all different in someways, and the person that is you become some flyaway bits you are always gathering up.
Sometimes pushing back can be more damaging, so you wait for a chance and selectively defend parts of your integral self. Some just push it all into a sac that grows wearisome with time, then gets scarred over and your soul gets a little bit darker, as you go through life, never again consciously touching that scarred over foreignness...just barely knowing it , just barely being.
Then, some thing stirs and you remember, your wholeness, almost with the uncertainity of a dream... The memory of a whole follow you , a shadow that evolve, as the scars scale up and fall in bits...you trail through like with the shadow a constant companion, even as you seek that elusive wholeness...
SPRKS IN CSF: on Rape and molestations
SPRKS IN CSF: on Rape and molestations: "The future of nations is echoed in the footfalls of its women..." In the past few days I have read, about rape --recent , past...
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
SPRKS IN CSF: circadian Rythm-at last your time
SPRKS IN CSF: circadian Rythm-at last your time: Three scientists who unravelled how our bodies tell time have won the 2017 Nobel Prize for physiology or medicine. Circadian rhythm.....
Tuesday, October 3, 2017
circadian Rythm-at last your time
Three scientists who unravelled how our bodies tell time have won the 2017 Nobel Prize for physiology or medicine.
Circadian rhythm...
At long last your time is here
The universe turns, its measure,
All measured in small steps,
Defined , on this side of the sun,
Yet many have discounted,
Sneered at even when spoken of...
Such a wonderful state of measures;
Of the thorough status of
The Circadian rhythm, the seamless flame ,
That runs through us all, making our DNA sing its tunes ,
All to the core , all to the end and beyond...
-10/02/2017-Poem by P c 3
Sunday, August 13, 2017
SPRKS IN CSF: Then,there...
SPRKS IN CSF: Then,there...: There, stare hard, into a morning... There, the sun still rises, but where? Then, is it my eyes that sees, or my dreaming senses; Then...
Saturday, March 4, 2017
SPRKS IN CSF: Is it Our Mutations...
SPRKS IN CSF: Is it Our Mutations...: "The last woolly mammoths to walk the Earth were so wracked with genetic disease that they lost their sense of smell, shunned company,...
Is it Our Mutations...
"The last woolly mammoths to walk the Earth were so wracked with genetic disease that they lost their sense of smell, shunned company, and had a strange shiny coat"
http://www.bbc.com/news/science-environment-39142941
As I read the article , questions swirl in my ancient brain-- Are we going the way of the woolly mammoth, but in an altogether novel path to self extinction. Can we just blame our genes for all our follies, and selective destructive tendencies.(just like many a criminal in collusion with their lawyer or any one who shirks their responsibilities selectively - 'my genes made me do it , or made me avoid it'
Well it appears that the genes are self selectively expressing a moral code of conduct of 'lying, conning, destruction and cruel unempathetic self aggrandisation ' as a measure for success.
Hence it is no surprise then to wait for the destruction of the environment , gradual or quicker genetic miscodes , and then humans' own decline and extinction.
All around are emerging short sighted planning and divisive constructs ...these along with a war mongering mentality , and creation of a cruelty de-sensitised future generations , I believe has struck the gong of our decline and that final phase . This can be reversed only if we are to take a resource saving, compassionate ,sharing attitude, ie. sharing with all our fellow humans, with a far sighted solutions to protect and care for that which surround us and with those whom we share our space with (all beings and objects, including our fellow humans ). The question remains always the same... do we have the capacity to forgo an urge for short term gains , or the wisdom for caring...hope the genetic miscodes have not taken hold in the majority of humans, so that the wise counsel prevails.
If not.....adieu homo sapiens.... and before that ,adieu earth's fauna and flora...
http://www.bbc.com/news/science-environment-39142941
As I read the article , questions swirl in my ancient brain-- Are we going the way of the woolly mammoth, but in an altogether novel path to self extinction. Can we just blame our genes for all our follies, and selective destructive tendencies.(just like many a criminal in collusion with their lawyer or any one who shirks their responsibilities selectively - 'my genes made me do it , or made me avoid it'
Well it appears that the genes are self selectively expressing a moral code of conduct of 'lying, conning, destruction and cruel unempathetic self aggrandisation ' as a measure for success.
Hence it is no surprise then to wait for the destruction of the environment , gradual or quicker genetic miscodes , and then humans' own decline and extinction.
All around are emerging short sighted planning and divisive constructs ...these along with a war mongering mentality , and creation of a cruelty de-sensitised future generations , I believe has struck the gong of our decline and that final phase . This can be reversed only if we are to take a resource saving, compassionate ,sharing attitude, ie. sharing with all our fellow humans, with a far sighted solutions to protect and care for that which surround us and with those whom we share our space with (all beings and objects, including our fellow humans ). The question remains always the same... do we have the capacity to forgo an urge for short term gains , or the wisdom for caring...hope the genetic miscodes have not taken hold in the majority of humans, so that the wise counsel prevails.
If not.....adieu homo sapiens.... and before that ,adieu earth's fauna and flora...
Tuesday, January 31, 2017
SPRKS IN CSF: The Day after tomorrow
SPRKS IN CSF: The Day after tomorrow: Yesterday I dreamt of the coming of spring, Birds singing in the trees, And flowers dancing in the sun; Today, I wake, and go to wo...
Monday, January 30, 2017
SPRKS IN CSF: despite KAOS wins- the letter to my children
SPRKS IN CSF: despite KAOS wins- the letter to my children: I look at my initial thoughts, and I am not so sure any more. But one still has to act.In the shifting sands of time , all become irreleva...
Saturday, January 21, 2017
SPRKS IN CSF: reflect I on (a poem by pc3)
SPRKS IN CSF: reflect I on (a poem by pc3): I want to take this space to reflect, as the future and past draws to a close..lost to a present, almost like the inconsequential feeling ...
Saturday, December 31, 2016
SPRKS IN CSF: O so important (a poem by Pc3)
SPRKS IN CSF: O so important (a poem by Pc3): So important I feel, I am a snow flake Floating the web, As it floats down ... Oh so important I flutter, In the Far corners of cold,...
SPRKS IN CSF: reflect I on (a poem by pc3)
SPRKS IN CSF: reflect I on (a poem by pc3): I want to take this space to reflect, as the year draws to a close. First things first ... I am afraid to reflect, For fear if my thou...
Monday, December 19, 2016
O so important (a poem by Pc3)
So important I feel,
I am a snow flake
Floating the web,
As it floats down ...
Oh so important I flutter,
In the Far corners of cold,
Fetted by the chill,
Still valued by the icicle,
For I add, beyond my very knowing...
Somehow,my value calls
To the wilderness,
To the bear to trample,
Ample fruits of a shine,
Flakes of truth to a trawl,
I float,a tiny glimmer, a hope-
Ever so brief,yet so important,
I am a snow flake,o"so important'...
I am a snow flake
Floating the web,
As it floats down ...
Oh so important I flutter,
In the Far corners of cold,
Fetted by the chill,
Still valued by the icicle,
For I add, beyond my very knowing...
Somehow,my value calls
To the wilderness,
To the bear to trample,
Ample fruits of a shine,
Flakes of truth to a trawl,
I float,a tiny glimmer, a hope-
Ever so brief,yet so important,
I am a snow flake,o"so important'...
Friday, November 11, 2016
Trump's wins -a loss? ???
Now What...
Emptied souls,surely not.
Not mourning, but......
Just - Being quiet
For a moment
To recharge
To act...
Yes , Much rests on our shoulders,
Hence WE MUST,
MOVE , UNITED,we must
A threat is to humanity's core,
Nurtured values.............................
Assault is to our essence ...
Hence , MOve ,
Act to stop,
Yes, to indeed stop....
The Death to all progress, that looms,
To stop before it blooms,
Consuming all in a cloud of hatred.....
Yes, we are destined to act,
In the face of 'Dementors', before our souls are gone............
Emptied souls,surely not.
Not mourning, but......
Just - Being quiet
For a moment
To recharge
To act...
Yes , Much rests on our shoulders,
Hence WE MUST,
MOVE , UNITED,we must
A threat is to humanity's core,
Nurtured values.............................
Assault is to our essence ...
Hence , MOve ,
Act to stop,
Yes, to indeed stop....
The Death to all progress, that looms,
To stop before it blooms,
Consuming all in a cloud of hatred.....
Yes, we are destined to act,
In the face of 'Dementors', before our souls are gone............
Saturday, November 5, 2016
on Rape and molestations- ( a repost for our present times)
"The future of nations is echoed in the footfalls of its women..."
In the past few days I have read, about rape --recent , past, date rape ...all kinds of rapes , all those which almost got squished to 'non'.
I go back again and again to review life, times,events. One thing is clear to me. We have moved, but just stay shifting in the same spot. Faces and people have changed but the focus has been and still is on the victim. Be it in the US, Nigeria, syria, India, Pakistan or anywhere in the world. Some how those accusatory raised sharp pointed finger is static...pointed to the victim always .
Be it intra-marital rape, date-rape or stranger rape , incest, or any molestation, it seems that the all powerful fingers points to the victim. some of us , we just re-live the traumas yet again as another story is unlocked.I believe the worst of it is the apathetic response by the surrounding world.
That first time you slink into the fold of society, that has normalized your role as prey,especially when you are a child.It is always about power and control struggles in a society...why disrupt those functioning system indeed?
all those questions that drown out the event....
'what about that other person who did try to prey, what about his life,his societal stand'... Then you remember, and you recognize the one who questioned that norm, who stood up and would not back down, when the normalizors all said 'it was an accident, or was someone just being playful,or the child just got scared... after all nothing happened...blah blah blah'...I had forgotten one of the many such event last night ,(the details are now fuzzy, lost to memory) but it came as a shock, how my grandmother went to confront my neighbor,with me the reluctant child in tow...I wanted her to do what all those others were saying, leave it be. Their chorus still rise as a loud din- he won't do anything again, what about his mother, why cause a stink, what about his marriage prospects, blah blah blah.... in our quiet village.
Well then again that is why people always sought her wise counsel in all sorts of matters, I guess. She never backed down from what was right ,even if many considered only the discomforts of upsetting a staid system ... I got that strength which never left me, may have laid dormant at times though... Is the current statistics of some form of sexual violence say 'one in four girls or one in five women?'
What about those of us who slide in and out of your daily lives, wearing our daily masks , never acknowledging any of it...tucking away our hurts, our fights all to a corner of our memory boxes..
what about those of us who go to sleep and wish we could escape the nights terrors... what of the children who carry that weight as a mantle of shame and set themselves up for a more brutal future in their silence.
They say silence is golden, I believe it is a golden cloak for the perpetrator..such a glow from all the silences that lay heavy just for the victim. Each choice of silence I am sure is a decision in the face of the chaos that stretches into the uncertainity of future, in a condemning society that is ready with their pointed fingers, be it at Stanford or anywhere else...yet we find our voice some times , beyond the heaviness and the din...
so what is the real rate ,for being victimised,worldwide...could it be more like one in two or may be near ten out of twelve.Or is the reality more close to one out of one... Whatever the numbers, next time you look at your mother , your grandmother,your sister, your friend, a minister, even a queen, ...look into the depths of those eyes and for a moment wonder what secret pains had crossed them... you may never know... you may never be told of their courageous actions either...
so much gets quiet over time, yet so much courage is around us
In the past few days I have read, about rape --recent , past, date rape ...all kinds of rapes , all those which almost got squished to 'non'.
I go back again and again to review life, times,events. One thing is clear to me. We have moved, but just stay shifting in the same spot. Faces and people have changed but the focus has been and still is on the victim. Be it in the US, Nigeria, syria, India, Pakistan or anywhere in the world. Some how those accusatory raised sharp pointed finger is static...pointed to the victim always .
Be it intra-marital rape, date-rape or stranger rape , incest, or any molestation, it seems that the all powerful fingers points to the victim. some of us , we just re-live the traumas yet again as another story is unlocked.I believe the worst of it is the apathetic response by the surrounding world.
That first time you slink into the fold of society, that has normalized your role as prey,especially when you are a child.It is always about power and control struggles in a society...why disrupt those functioning system indeed?
all those questions that drown out the event....
'what about that other person who did try to prey, what about his life,his societal stand'... Then you remember, and you recognize the one who questioned that norm, who stood up and would not back down, when the normalizors all said 'it was an accident, or was someone just being playful,or the child just got scared... after all nothing happened...blah blah blah'...I had forgotten one of the many such event last night ,(the details are now fuzzy, lost to memory) but it came as a shock, how my grandmother went to confront my neighbor,with me the reluctant child in tow...I wanted her to do what all those others were saying, leave it be. Their chorus still rise as a loud din- he won't do anything again, what about his mother, why cause a stink, what about his marriage prospects, blah blah blah.... in our quiet village.
Well then again that is why people always sought her wise counsel in all sorts of matters, I guess. She never backed down from what was right ,even if many considered only the discomforts of upsetting a staid system ... I got that strength which never left me, may have laid dormant at times though... Is the current statistics of some form of sexual violence say 'one in four girls or one in five women?'
What about those of us who slide in and out of your daily lives, wearing our daily masks , never acknowledging any of it...tucking away our hurts, our fights all to a corner of our memory boxes..
what about those of us who go to sleep and wish we could escape the nights terrors... what of the children who carry that weight as a mantle of shame and set themselves up for a more brutal future in their silence.
They say silence is golden, I believe it is a golden cloak for the perpetrator..such a glow from all the silences that lay heavy just for the victim. Each choice of silence I am sure is a decision in the face of the chaos that stretches into the uncertainity of future, in a condemning society that is ready with their pointed fingers, be it at Stanford or anywhere else...yet we find our voice some times , beyond the heaviness and the din...
so what is the real rate ,for being victimised,worldwide...could it be more like one in two or may be near ten out of twelve.Or is the reality more close to one out of one... Whatever the numbers, next time you look at your mother , your grandmother,your sister, your friend, a minister, even a queen, ...look into the depths of those eyes and for a moment wonder what secret pains had crossed them... you may never know... you may never be told of their courageous actions either...
so much gets quiet over time, yet so much courage is around us
Saturday, July 9, 2016
SPRKS IN CSF: america imploding -
SPRKS IN CSF: america imploding -: Ethics lay by the wayside, Compassion has died slow... In its ashes has sprouted dominance. I breathe the moral implosion, As breaths a...
Monday, July 4, 2016
SPRKS IN CSF: Elie Wiesel
SPRKS IN CSF: Elie Wiesel: "We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormente...
Elie Wiesel
"We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.
There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest."
Peace at last , beyond memories ,
those that never can rest,
rest at last , to a dear soul,
that touched many ,
wisdom that helped,
beyond our days ,
even as hope dims ,
a ray that guide...peace at last!
copyright @peace crane 3
Saturday, June 18, 2016
SPRKS IN CSF: thoughts on fear unleashed
SPRKS IN CSF: thoughts on fear unleashed: I go to chaos theory and butter-fly effects, to explain the fear unleashed on us. But that does not stop me in my tracks, quite contrary......
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
thoughts on fear unleashed
I go to chaos theory and butter-fly effects, to explain the fear unleashed on us. But that does not stop me in my tracks, quite contrary... I want to go back and write even when day to day life upstages me with a variety of activities to be tended to , pushing for attention, even as the children call out to be attended to. Despite all this I feel this urge... I want to put it into words. Fear is that which has no form, the unknown...
But I for one cannot say I am afraid. I may be more cautious, but you cannot push me to be afraid and I was never a coward. I am cautious, but no, do not mistake it for cowardice. I lost fear to an almost impulsive urge to face up to any threatening situation so long ago , in my early child hood...yes it was gone when I first met a snake, face to face. Instinct made me walk away, even as I was spell bound , all curious yet with pounding heart.Some days I still hear that pounding if I listen for it in the stillness of the night.
Yet with age and wisdom I do not run into threats, Instead I still go on with my mind clear and my head held high, even as I stoop with age. The acts of violence, that was unleashed...they just make me think more, for you cannot rain fear on me, nor can you steal my thoughts.
I will still go to the cafes , clubs, to the malls and beaches. The few that have darkened their souls with their acts do not make me afraid, for they are inconsequential blots in our time , they too will get erased...corrupted ideologues, in any religion or policies will add to the chaos theory like a butterfly effect, but the goodness in people will have to appear to counter that alternate trace left by some distorted minds...
So you will see me on the streets, stores, crowds, unafraid,my mind clear , and my head held high despite the stoop in my frame , my sluggish gait, despite all that age does to my physique, or the bounding distracted appearing youth , with all hopes intact....yes I am each one who you see, without the taint of fear, seemingly unassuming, average ,but the one you cannot taint, be it with the unleashed violent acts or the rhetoric from somewhere there...the one you should really fear is each one of us,ones like me...
But I for one cannot say I am afraid. I may be more cautious, but you cannot push me to be afraid and I was never a coward. I am cautious, but no, do not mistake it for cowardice. I lost fear to an almost impulsive urge to face up to any threatening situation so long ago , in my early child hood...yes it was gone when I first met a snake, face to face. Instinct made me walk away, even as I was spell bound , all curious yet with pounding heart.Some days I still hear that pounding if I listen for it in the stillness of the night.
Yet with age and wisdom I do not run into threats, Instead I still go on with my mind clear and my head held high, even as I stoop with age. The acts of violence, that was unleashed...they just make me think more, for you cannot rain fear on me, nor can you steal my thoughts.
I will still go to the cafes , clubs, to the malls and beaches. The few that have darkened their souls with their acts do not make me afraid, for they are inconsequential blots in our time , they too will get erased...corrupted ideologues, in any religion or policies will add to the chaos theory like a butterfly effect, but the goodness in people will have to appear to counter that alternate trace left by some distorted minds...
So you will see me on the streets, stores, crowds, unafraid,my mind clear , and my head held high despite the stoop in my frame , my sluggish gait, despite all that age does to my physique, or the bounding distracted appearing youth , with all hopes intact....yes I am each one who you see, without the taint of fear, seemingly unassuming, average ,but the one you cannot taint, be it with the unleashed violent acts or the rhetoric from somewhere there...the one you should really fear is each one of us,ones like me...
Saturday, February 27, 2016
SPRKS IN CSF: Japan-images, fuzzy yet may be clear
SPRKS IN CSF: Japan-images, fuzzy yet may be clear: As the dawn creeps along on the tail of fading darkness, I lay somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Some images come floating by again....
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Trump's kampfs
The trump has trumpeted again...no surprise there. It is well known that it is what he does. Here it goes to sounding ridiculous but his self purported struggles are called what??- hopefully he will come up with a new title or a non-literal translated one that 'ends not with Kampf'. As time has compressed , the distance between wars have widened, may be it is about time for the next despot to come into being. The cyclical end of worlds that all religions and cultures believe in or make into legends in one form or the other,finally has come to a tangible reality, a possible event, not just the stuff of legends ( almost like the UFOs) taking shape in the surprising Trump trumpet of the day.
Despite the life of average days that fill my days, this has urged me to write.
Today a war on conscience and tolerance has become the hall mark of a once great country!
These shores that echoed with the cries of the despised and trampled,
Now has a chance to echo egotistic trumpets,and just them,
As the masses still in dismay pour their sweat and time , lost to the rehoteric...
Bullets still fly, but sharper still flies words, and lame pundits ,
Paid a fine sum to echo hate...oh how we have progressed...
Disdain and greed, has in its wake left the death of honor,
Beauty lies wasted in tired hearts, lost to doll trolls, and grand gallows,
Death of honor and truth ,unquiet goes a day into night...
Wasted its efforts , lie the youth , confused,lost ,
Past and future lie entwined, denied ,yet they entwine
Marked between all the furor in a heap , rotting ,
Ne'er knowing justice or greatness, crumpled at the alter of hate ...
All wise and great who walked here, lost are your truths to hate ,
The heavens weep today as many a time before ,
Yet we course that path again, past is lost to history...lemmings we are
Leaping into the abyss, or stare in shock,
Unfreeze us to act , to voice , to steer , if only...from this fog of hate...
I wish we have courage in our hearts and goodness in our soul to rise above and despite the many trumpeters of hate and divisive demagogues
Despite the life of average days that fill my days, this has urged me to write.
Today a war on conscience and tolerance has become the hall mark of a once great country!
These shores that echoed with the cries of the despised and trampled,
Now has a chance to echo egotistic trumpets,and just them,
As the masses still in dismay pour their sweat and time , lost to the rehoteric...
Bullets still fly, but sharper still flies words, and lame pundits ,
Paid a fine sum to echo hate...oh how we have progressed...
Disdain and greed, has in its wake left the death of honor,
Beauty lies wasted in tired hearts, lost to doll trolls, and grand gallows,
Death of honor and truth ,unquiet goes a day into night...
Wasted its efforts , lie the youth , confused,lost ,
Past and future lie entwined, denied ,yet they entwine
Marked between all the furor in a heap , rotting ,
Ne'er knowing justice or greatness, crumpled at the alter of hate ...
All wise and great who walked here, lost are your truths to hate ,
The heavens weep today as many a time before ,
Yet we course that path again, past is lost to history...lemmings we are
Leaping into the abyss, or stare in shock,
Unfreeze us to act , to voice , to steer , if only...from this fog of hate...
I wish we have courage in our hearts and goodness in our soul to rise above and despite the many trumpeters of hate and divisive demagogues
Monday, December 7, 2015
SPRKS IN CSF: problems , problems..
SPRKS IN CSF: problems , problems..: I read the editorial , the gun epidemic and then i go out and get some groceries. Incensed I return, and put away the groceries. On any ave...
Sunday, December 6, 2015
problems , problems..
I read the editorial , the gun epidemic and then i go out and get some groceries. Incensed I return, and put away the groceries. On any average day it is easy to push away the looks, the checking and re-checking of my name or whatever the cashier whom we secretly call the 'racist' to get on with the day.I can easily shrug away the race and gender biases, for I know my strengths and that many carry biases unaware, just as another aspect of life's ripples...I can usually take comfort in my assessed knowledge that she is in her sixties or at least look it, has a bad case of disdain for any 'off-white' skin tone, and may be , just hates her job. I would then smugly walk out thinking of the many roots of her envy partly grown out of her ignorance, the possible health issues she may have , her lack of alternate skills,etc. Today these little irritations make me more annoyed. May be it was the car(with a burly male in his pompous polluter) honking at me on an amber light turning red that addled me further.Yet there it had stayed longer , as an itch , longer than I would care for ...effectively wasting some of my energy into an irritation.
I can't turn on the TV for it will have all punditry going full blast and after yesterday, I dare not watch news, as I do not care for the sensationalism of an event where news is porned out to a reality TV circus .I have to say, shame on you - 'all who call yourself journalists'... What happened to knowledge, that is a merger of good sense and education?
Then I think of the American dilemmas...multiple problems that are going to be compounded by the looming elections when politicians are left with what they do, politicking- a purpose less act of stirring the pot to boil over ,their effort ,all of it just to get elected. Then there is the 'genie' that is out of the bottle and growing wild, under an umbrella of an amendment...add to it the ignorance of the masses -you see how the problems grow and grow.
Oh the problems that no one cares to address, and they just grow wild , drowning out the ones who try to address even parts of it, out of control like the Hydra of Lerna and just grows as a cancer on the society...some things need addressing, and fast before we are swallowed up by it all.
I can't turn on the TV for it will have all punditry going full blast and after yesterday, I dare not watch news, as I do not care for the sensationalism of an event where news is porned out to a reality TV circus .I have to say, shame on you - 'all who call yourself journalists'... What happened to knowledge, that is a merger of good sense and education?
Then I think of the American dilemmas...multiple problems that are going to be compounded by the looming elections when politicians are left with what they do, politicking- a purpose less act of stirring the pot to boil over ,their effort ,all of it just to get elected. Then there is the 'genie' that is out of the bottle and growing wild, under an umbrella of an amendment...add to it the ignorance of the masses -you see how the problems grow and grow.
Oh the problems that no one cares to address, and they just grow wild , drowning out the ones who try to address even parts of it, out of control like the Hydra of Lerna and just grows as a cancer on the society...some things need addressing, and fast before we are swallowed up by it all.
Wednesday, December 2, 2015
SPRKS IN CSF: mirror effects-with in us
SPRKS IN CSF: mirror effects-with in us: I come across a piece on mirror neurons, and wonder. Is it what we claim at points we are above, yet may not be. I remember learning how to...
SPRKS IN CSF: Nature- lost( help to prevent earth's demise)
SPRKS IN CSF: Nature- lost( help to prevent earth's demise): This seems more relevant today than a while back , when it was written, after a walk. The coral reefs are dying at a higher rate, and the ...
Saturday, April 25, 2015
mirror effects-with in us
I come across a piece on mirror neurons, and wonder. Is it what we claim at points we are above, yet may not be. I remember learning how to trick monkeys, using mirroring. Once you threw something, they would throw what was in their hands. In a village with the adults all doing their thing, for a four year old , it was some kind of a fun interaction with the surrounding nature. In a time when the fruit trees tenderly cared for by the farmers were being used by the monkeys to feed them selves ,(may be the monkeys felt like the executives of today... their right to be paid and given bonuses) paid workers would go about making noises to scare them away . Any occasional wandering monkey was a target for my experiments, especially as some would scamper over the trees at the back yard, with half eaten fruits, on their way to the untended areas of the land, still awaiting planting to the west. However a few of them did not allow their mirror neurons to act, or may be they did not attend to my actions and hence failed to imitate it .
Many years later , as those villages and quieter lives have become non-existent, even as the proximity of chaotic order of nature is fiercely encroached by man-made order to decimation of wild life and nature itself., I sit at a computer wondering. The article brought to surface a long ago memory of childhood that had stayed dormant for decades, barely ever recalled in that period. Today if I close my eyes some of that is as clear as in those days...care free wonder filled days, where monkeys, some with their babies lived nearby, hopping about, where all the noise of nature just brought wonder and joy....
Mirror neurons seem fascinating . These days I look at my dad wandering back and forth repeating the same thing over again, forgetting the pieces about that same event few minutes before.Gone are the days we would walk those forest paths, he and mom figuring about plantings, workers, monkey problems among other things, and I would look for fireflies, or fallen soap-nuts in the path...His present wanderings with its sticky quality make me wonder, is it the mirror neurons gone wild, by mirroring his own action, as his memory has cast shadows , illuminating only parts in his brain. Has his GABA systems shrivelled in parts, releasing the brakes that held his mirror neuron activities,just to create repetitions ...his actions are meaningless to me, but would have channeled meaning with the Gaba working ,-his ligand gates in good condition , not creating spilled toxins, that cloud his neurons.
Do the GABA system faults drive the echoes for an autistic child, is that too a Gaba switch not turning on, not letting things to make the right sense as the rest of the world around them visualises and understand events .I see the GABA neurons sparking, burning some, setting at some spots, and dark in other areas their evolving brains. I hear the sizzle of error connectivity. But then again what makes the Gaba to start its work, the ligand gates to go at different stages, all according to some ' turn on' command from the genes. We may have , even when we deny the various pollutants we have put into our enviornment, deny again that these have in any way affected our very futures, bring ease to let us collectively blame some thing else but our own actions...say "May be it is after all in the GABA system faults" and ignore the antecedents and contributing factors to those faults.Let us ignore again , all signalling going on within us, ignore everything and go pollute more , so our signal transductions go crazy within us and for generations that follow.
Ah, our need to mirror find some thing to latch on to...even if it is the greenest lawns and the things we didn't know we needed until presented through those beautiful ads...
Many years later , as those villages and quieter lives have become non-existent, even as the proximity of chaotic order of nature is fiercely encroached by man-made order to decimation of wild life and nature itself., I sit at a computer wondering. The article brought to surface a long ago memory of childhood that had stayed dormant for decades, barely ever recalled in that period. Today if I close my eyes some of that is as clear as in those days...care free wonder filled days, where monkeys, some with their babies lived nearby, hopping about, where all the noise of nature just brought wonder and joy....
Mirror neurons seem fascinating . These days I look at my dad wandering back and forth repeating the same thing over again, forgetting the pieces about that same event few minutes before.Gone are the days we would walk those forest paths, he and mom figuring about plantings, workers, monkey problems among other things, and I would look for fireflies, or fallen soap-nuts in the path...His present wanderings with its sticky quality make me wonder, is it the mirror neurons gone wild, by mirroring his own action, as his memory has cast shadows , illuminating only parts in his brain. Has his GABA systems shrivelled in parts, releasing the brakes that held his mirror neuron activities,just to create repetitions ...his actions are meaningless to me, but would have channeled meaning with the Gaba working ,-his ligand gates in good condition , not creating spilled toxins, that cloud his neurons.
Do the GABA system faults drive the echoes for an autistic child, is that too a Gaba switch not turning on, not letting things to make the right sense as the rest of the world around them visualises and understand events .I see the GABA neurons sparking, burning some, setting at some spots, and dark in other areas their evolving brains. I hear the sizzle of error connectivity. But then again what makes the Gaba to start its work, the ligand gates to go at different stages, all according to some ' turn on' command from the genes. We may have , even when we deny the various pollutants we have put into our enviornment, deny again that these have in any way affected our very futures, bring ease to let us collectively blame some thing else but our own actions...say "May be it is after all in the GABA system faults" and ignore the antecedents and contributing factors to those faults.Let us ignore again , all signalling going on within us, ignore everything and go pollute more , so our signal transductions go crazy within us and for generations that follow.
Ah, our need to mirror find some thing to latch on to...even if it is the greenest lawns and the things we didn't know we needed until presented through those beautiful ads...
Thursday, January 15, 2015
A new year-hopes and aspirations
December has moved to January,one day to another with a lot of meaning for some and some meaning for a lot. In one fell swoop humanity moved through a cascade of counting the minutes as if it indeed was the last act to perform.
Then, there it was...done.
What of the expectations, all those hopes...that never really take leave,
nudge even when you sleep,
what of the resolves overlooked , as the days move...
as if these are only for a specific date that changes one year to another.
Really, is it all that different, if we resolve to change some small bit on the next day,or the day after,
even as life tumble forward with not much kept under the controlled plans;
there- all so carefully laid out.
So, here we go with individual ideals and plans, one day to the next...
some lemmings, others octopus like and yet others ostrich visionaries.
In between there lies a bit of all that in everyone-
Attempts at maintaining some form of resolves finally...
hopes and aspirations bloom and fade, to care, to change we strive..
these defines us, by the time and efforts we garner
.
Then, there it was...done.
What of the expectations, all those hopes...that never really take leave,
nudge even when you sleep,
what of the resolves overlooked , as the days move...
as if these are only for a specific date that changes one year to another.
Really, is it all that different, if we resolve to change some small bit on the next day,or the day after,
even as life tumble forward with not much kept under the controlled plans;
there- all so carefully laid out.
So, here we go with individual ideals and plans, one day to the next...
some lemmings, others octopus like and yet others ostrich visionaries.
In between there lies a bit of all that in everyone-
Attempts at maintaining some form of resolves finally...
hopes and aspirations bloom and fade, to care, to change we strive..
these defines us, by the time and efforts we garner
.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Unjust actions, the world in ferguson
Let us all stand tall and walk with silence,honor all who are silent,forced by the times, by moments that arrest voice-- stand up against injustices, be it in Ferguson, Missouri, Florida, Palastine, pakistan, Borno or anywhere else in the world... The world is ferguson, it is every place ... Let us stand up against injustice, united; to be louder in our moments of silence, in solidarity with all who are silenced-to protest , with honor , with dignity and valor ... Let us with quiet dignity , stand together, come together across all divisions, and fracture the unjust institutions, shake them to their core..Never by chaos,not by destruction, but by a strength that pulse from our depth, from our integrity, for cowards with their unjust modes, can all but crumble, thus...
Monday, November 24, 2014
Stolen childhoods
I turned on BBC news, and arrived at switzerland's stolen child hoods. My eyes avert itself from the screen, as I try to focus on my cup of tea. I stir the cup of tea and it spills onto the table. Even as I push the swiss childrens' plight to my minds back screen, I tear up ... from the dredges of a past that I cannot out run or throw out, comes a name- 'selvam'... I cannot recall any image, just his distress..
I am at a place and time ,a child...yes I was just a child , walking , the coordination required for maneuvering doors still alien.Today I am crying silently as I sip the tasteless tea, for 'selvam'. I cannot remove the innate empathy of those days, nor the reality that because of that compassion I caused suffering....
Selvam was also a child, sent by his poor and hungry parents to this big house, all to labour away his right to a childhood...on hopes he will be fed, and some cash would flow into their burdened lives for his labours..
There are child labourers all over this world even as I write this.Nothing has changed much for the children, just new facades and new names for the exploitations of children. Some think it is justified to cheat another of their time, their rights trod over,- willfully negated in front of their own children..but to what end....
I still remember that day when the sun's slanting rays cast its orange glow , stretched lines on the wooden floor . In an upstairs room slanted shadow of a window grew long on the floor. I slid a peice of bread through the space at the bottom of the uneven door to Selvam's room.I cried with selvam, who was beaten that day. I could not think of my parents as bad or especially cruel then, yet I stuggle to forgive them of what cannot be forgotten, cannot be undone.... I can understand that they too were the products of their time.
Now even as their memories fade, at times I feel the urge to force them to remember, but they will not remember anything anymore, only the memory of that day breaks in me in sadness and shame, a sadness that envelops me in thick oppressive guilt...Yet, I cannot be held guilty, instead it should be my parents , and the society at large... they should embrace the weight of the shame, they should wear this cloak of guilt suffused sadness.
I wonder about Selvam....what became of him? Did he make it in the world okay.....Did his burdened days rob him of all that we call 'life value" for ever? I know that I will never have answers
Every child soldier, every child who labour, be it in the tobacco farms in the vastness of american south, be it in the brick kilns in India, or cocoa farms of Africa... every child is another Selvam...
There is also your child who lives with the heaviness of guilt... carrying the burden of stained lives. stained by the suffering of the selvams all over the world.
Changing shapes, or the color or the label will not remove the disparities , the injustices that divide us,...all of us those with or without will continue to struggle for the tainted childhoods... washing away the stains unto the end....in-escapably unto the end....
I am at a place and time ,a child...yes I was just a child , walking , the coordination required for maneuvering doors still alien.Today I am crying silently as I sip the tasteless tea, for 'selvam'. I cannot remove the innate empathy of those days, nor the reality that because of that compassion I caused suffering....
Selvam was also a child, sent by his poor and hungry parents to this big house, all to labour away his right to a childhood...on hopes he will be fed, and some cash would flow into their burdened lives for his labours..
There are child labourers all over this world even as I write this.Nothing has changed much for the children, just new facades and new names for the exploitations of children. Some think it is justified to cheat another of their time, their rights trod over,- willfully negated in front of their own children..but to what end....
I still remember that day when the sun's slanting rays cast its orange glow , stretched lines on the wooden floor . In an upstairs room slanted shadow of a window grew long on the floor. I slid a peice of bread through the space at the bottom of the uneven door to Selvam's room.I cried with selvam, who was beaten that day. I could not think of my parents as bad or especially cruel then, yet I stuggle to forgive them of what cannot be forgotten, cannot be undone.... I can understand that they too were the products of their time.
Now even as their memories fade, at times I feel the urge to force them to remember, but they will not remember anything anymore, only the memory of that day breaks in me in sadness and shame, a sadness that envelops me in thick oppressive guilt...Yet, I cannot be held guilty, instead it should be my parents , and the society at large... they should embrace the weight of the shame, they should wear this cloak of guilt suffused sadness.
I wonder about Selvam....what became of him? Did he make it in the world okay.....Did his burdened days rob him of all that we call 'life value" for ever? I know that I will never have answers
Every child soldier, every child who labour, be it in the tobacco farms in the vastness of american south, be it in the brick kilns in India, or cocoa farms of Africa... every child is another Selvam...
There is also your child who lives with the heaviness of guilt... carrying the burden of stained lives. stained by the suffering of the selvams all over the world.
Changing shapes, or the color or the label will not remove the disparities , the injustices that divide us,...all of us those with or without will continue to struggle for the tainted childhoods... washing away the stains unto the end....in-escapably unto the end....
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