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...

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'...

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............
         
       

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

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...

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

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......

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... 

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....

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

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...

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.

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 ...

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...

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

.

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...

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....