My symphony

• I see a crescent moon in the sky,
  oblivious to her missing part it shines.
  Gives forth it's rays this wondrous night,
  generous to give me it's missing part-
  to enjoy you her missing heart.
• 
  

  
  

  whisper nearby the leaves of the trees
  i lean near to overhear what they say.
  An angel from the sky is what i hear,
  and of me a being from below.
  They sing of our union of sky and 'neath.
• 
  

  
  

  Caresses my cheeks the cold wind speaks ,
  to remind me of the harsh bitter truth.
  in this balcony  this cold december night,
  in bits and pieces your song has crooned,
  beautifully weaved a symphony in my heart.

Miss you before I'm gone

I lie here by your side
coldly, cruelly a liar in your heart.
A misinterpretation of my words
and the miseducation of your heart,
again made to feel  ever so small.

So often my years I'm told
and the wisdom it brings,
but here i lie in solitude
again a guest of my inner pain 
naught but pain will it be?

I see beauty in your encompassing being
strength and love in your inner core.
a presence that wraps me
from dawn to dusk to night to dawn,
I miss you even before I'm gone.





 

Little

If little by little
i open my life
if little by little
i bid the hidden away
if little by little
i lift the littlest away
would you find me the littlest?

you would still find me little
when i lift the littlest away
when little by little
i bid the hidden away
when little by little
i open my life
is it that you are little?

the goatherd at the pasture

Under the weeping water of the night sky
a cover of tattered cloth and broken bough
when Dawn's Left Hand was in the Sky
sweetness into bitter run your visage present

Now the dawning day reviving old desires
the moon bidding bye to the northern star
yet the thoughtful heart ever so bleeding
of night of day and of lost reveries

The restful soul to emancipation retires
Skewed the mind is locked naught in divine
Beauty is gone with all its petals
The clouded garment of serpentine flung

The bird of smile had but a little way
Learning to spread its wings but crudely flung
The first summer month went its wintry ways
A thousand blossoms to fire seared

Where the body lies the mind does not
the heart ever so very far from serenity
It’s life has been bled drop by drop
It’s stolen beats keep failing one by one

Making a change to change makers

Although there is no unified definition of social enterprise worldwide, many believe that social enterprises are just like for profit enterprise since they operate in the same context, and since any type of business only exists as a result of demand from society, there is no difference between social enterprise and any other enterprise. On the other hand, many people from NPO backgrounds, think that classifying social enterprises as one type of ‘for profit business’ will cause confusion in civil society.
So, what is a social enterprise and who is a social entrepreneur? One can find dozens if not hundreds of different definitions across the world. A British Insititue even refers to social enterprise as a ‘state of mind’ because it is really about where your values lie.
To me a social enterprise is one founded by an individual or a small group of close individuals with a common dream, working transparently and honestly, with an objective to bring cultural and/or social and/or economic and/or health (mental/physical) changes.

1KG is a charitable program in China. It was created by Yu Zhihai who once worked as an advertising agent and a Webmaster. As he found himself moved by the poverty he observed while visiting remote regions, he established 1KG to appeal for independent charity works especially for tourists while traveling.
The project calls on self reliant travelers to bring along with them an additional kilo of books or stationery for distribution to impoverished schools and children at their destinations. Participants are called 1KGers on the Net. YU believes that anyone, whether rich or poor, can do something for the less well-off - and for anyone who enjoys backpacking, it happens to be very easy to do.

As you read this a Patient may be critically ill. Whether he lives or dies depends on whether a unit of blood of the right type is available. People run about from pillar to post for a unit of blood in their own city or some another city. There are times when a patient dies for want of blood. And there are time when unscrupulous elements sell blood for money . By donating blood one can make a difference between LIFE and DEATH. With this in mind Khusroo Poacha from Nagpur created Indianblooddonors.com. From Kashmir to Kanyakumari , from the most common blood group to the rarest, the helpline has a huge database of blood donors. It's simple, effective and free and can match you with a donor near you in seconds. Needless to say Poacha has time and again turned down offers to monetize his initiative and earn millions of dollars on offer.

In Dayi county, 50 kms from Chengdu, more than 40% of the farmers raise rabbits, and the profits it brings are higher than other agricultural industries, Many farmers attribute their success to Ren Xu Ping, the famous China Rabbit King. Ren XU Ping started Xuping Rabbit Food company thirty years back with a scythe , a pack backet and two rabbits. Today he is rich, far from being the poor boy that he was with bitterness in his heart. He became happy as he learned to share successful experiences with poor families and making them rich. As of today, more than 0.3 million students have graduated from his training school, most of who have become rich through rabbit husbandary. Out of these around 100 have become millionaires.

The above are just a few examples of social entrepreneurs who I really admire, and am proud to say that the second viz Poacha is a good friend of mine too. Speaking about social entrepreneurs let’s now also speak about the second line social entrepreneurs, the faceless ones rallying behind these social entrepreneurs and the people who help these social entrepreneurs ride towards their goals.
One has only one life but given a choice the same life can make differences in the lives of many people. But how big do we draw the circle as it seems that bigger the circle bigger the sacrifices one have to make . Should the circle be drawn around one's family and close friends or wider, and if wider how wide?. How does one discern and perform the duties one has to one’s family and the dream of making a difference for others who are not remotely even connected. If one chooses a wider circle where would one be eventually headed and would one look back after a few years and stand as confused as one were at the start.
The second line social entrepreneurs are unconventionals who have ideological dreams but as of yet do not have their own independent ideas. Yet, accidentally or by choice rally behind the first line social entrepreneurs towards a shared dream. They may be highly qualified people or the not so qualified, but which ever, have sacrificed a great deal in making the decision to draw the circle just a little wider. At the same time the risk of ignorantly living someone’s dream without reward is high and the dividing line between happiness and the realization that they may have lost many precious years and the chance to accumulate those precious bucks is very thin. They are people who believe that life seems to be guided or channeled by an extra hand and that one is helplessly carried along with the flow towards a destined goal. They may seem just like the next ordinary person but are actually visible or not so visible social misfits who want to have normal lives and relationships but lack certain finishing that they may end up hurting people they care about/love unintentionally. If judged in conventional parameters, there would not be much that pleases too.
The point is if you have come across any of these second line social entrepreneurs, be a little kinder to them and just open your heart a little more to accommodate second or third chances. They may lack in many areas but one common unfailing trait is that they are heart persons and would eventually reciprocate your kindness many multiples eventually, if not by them directly at least by the virtuous divine hand. Bring one down and his circle suffers.

The Goatherd and the damsel

outside the rooster’s on his night perch
and the morning sun’s ready for his repast
i look at you sweet love in your beauteous sleep
and desire to hear your sweet and wondrous words
But my purse is light and the hearth is cold

the merchant’s kitchen is laden as his purse
his garden bears tempestuous fruits all year round
naught a fur blanket to cover you 'cept this sheet
but my heart is warm and see his harem’s brimmed
will you not look back and consider my honest plea

look my love look back just once even in jest
see this torn heart beneath this tattered attire
while that palanquin carries you to his threshold
i take my goats to the mountain pasture once again
to sing this lonesome song to the wilderness

Removed and stowed away-cannot put it down to music till now

Chapter 1

Mein stood silently at the edge and looked three floors down at the dark space below. As usual he could see the silhouettes of the dying plants on the flower bed fighting for their very survival. He understood that the plants were dying because of the lack of water but nevertheless nonchalantly pass them every morning – he had casually accepted that every suffering, every pain should have some symbolic entity. Even a concerned neighbor’s chiding did not have any effect; he had coolly nodded his head when she lectured him on the importance of maintaining the flower bed. The dog as usual had dug up the earth and had snuggled down to sleep as she has been doing every night. Looking straight ahead beyond the dark silhouettes of the trees and the row houses he saw the soft neon light of a hotel next to the flyover. If he could see his own face he would have seen the soft reflection from a near perfect moon as if to challenge the artificial lights from the neon lights. He noticed that the neighborhood street dogs were again fighting for their turfs as the noise of barks and growls came from a distance. However the conclusive victorious barks of one group were drowned out by an approaching train, first a long whistle and within a few seconds a thundering noise of a thousand wheels on the steel tracks. As the train passed beyond the gate mein saw the passing lights from the coaches and a few brief blurred faces of strangers through the open windows. It was going to be three in the morning and he wondered if some of those faces were attached to hearts as sad as his and if they were also looking for answers by visiting ghosts of years gone by. As he leaned forward in the railing mein could not help but think what people say about one life’s flashing before the eyes before one goes- but his mind was blank. He took a step further and set his mind wandering to years long gone, as a song softly floats up from a room down below….tell me your secrets….. and ask me your questions…… oh, let’s go back to the start…… running in circles , coming up tails……. heads on a science apart….mein slowly sways his head to the scientist by coldplay and his ache softens a little….

Part 2

don't know how to paint and haven't done much but i still worked my butt off for 3 months for this

Boot up and gloves on the dawn is breaking

We know your girlfriend broke your heart
It’s been all of 3 weeks down the line
Your face shows your sadness inside
But out here you can’t come crying
Say a hello to the sand, wind, sky, rain
Ice and snow are sometimes friends too


Straighten the iron horse and kick out
Cause this is all what we now speak about

Work is bogging you down everyday
And your boss is sure to have horns and tail
Your colleagues suck and are boring as yawn
Your table seems more like a cell
And the mails and files keep piling up
Its time for your helmet to hi your riding jacket

Slow down cause there’s a bump ahead
Never mind just speed up and take a flight

Classmates and childhood friends left you behind
In glass buildings maybe in London Paris or Tokyo
Their accounts may run right to Fort Knox
And yours till the end of next week
But all you need is money for your gasoline
We are all going riding a few days away


Tar, sand, ice, puddles squelching beneath your tyres
Lean to the right there’s a sharp bend coming

We know there’s problem in the family
Someone’s not well and some dreams are awry
Father eyes you disapprovingly and mother’s sad
Brother you need an inner strength for the fights
The elements are givers and your steed will carry you there
Ride your worries away and come back stronger


The sun is setting low time to look for a camp and beer
Cause we got to rest and freshen for the ride tomorrow

Monkey

removed-too personal

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

Removed-too personal

The noise trots and readies to gallop
Prying and prying that I don’t wanna feel
I pray if not silence but at least white noise
But the wall of play smirks and stops none

If I could would sleep away to kingdom come
Let it run its course soothed away
But my head expands beyond gore
As the horizontal seems to activate it more

My pupil stares ahead and goes side to side
Reality strikes what I have is what I don’t
I look for an answer with which I can stop
And thoughts went to the bauble blower’s art

My head feels heavy and my feet runs cold
a wondrous ache covers me from head to toe
i hold the blower’s pride but my head says no
and the soaring bird comes crashing down

I really don't know

Guano and copper from Chile. Beef from Argentina, Brazil and Australia fed on fodder crops grown after clearance of forest land. Diamonds and blood diamonds from Africa. Hardwood from the equatorial and tropical forests of the under-developing and developing world. Oil from the Middle East . Wool from New Zealand from pasture fed Sheeps. Metals and minerals from the grounds of Asian and African countries. Immigrants from the developing world. Gas from Central Asia. Cotton from Egypt. Bananas from the Banana republics.
Most gone to adorn the bodies, bellies, homes, offices, infrastructure, vehicles in Europe and North America. I sometimes wonder if the balance of mass and weight of the globe would be maintained in equilibrium with the transfer of so much mass to one region of the world. If not would the Earth tilt over or rotate elliptically? …LOL

Disclaimer: What I wrote is not influenced by the movie 2012

About dusts in my eyes and home

Where does one belong?.
I wonder if anyone has ever felt detachment and attachment at the same time. A chemical balance so out of equilibrium that sometimes one feels happily unhappy and unhappily happy. A mind so conditioned with the unhappiness and suffering, real and imagined (I suppose), that it does not know when and how to experience what. An overflow of emotions that makes actions and thoughts aligned in the quickest pursuit of happiness or rolling down a highway to self destruction. Family and friends do hold and help one keep grounded but what about the hollow space in their absence?- stabbing jolts of pain with constant throbbing from dawn to dusk, as if the ghosts of punishments from past lives are having a carnival in ode to one’s sorrow.
Learning to be stoic is not an answer and can never be learned anyway. Even if it were possible it would take away the very essence of our presence in this world. We were meant to suffer and to make others suffer, as designed by the divine plan of the divine friend upstairs. Stumbling tragic comics trying to make sense of our lives and only seeing ahead, not really knowing that there are laughs behind while we only try to see the smiles in front. Bereft of real intelligence of which we are given in quotas, we grovel along like worms with perceived views from above.
It’s an insane world and the best way to combat it is insanity. Thinking about it there is no way out (if one would want to skip along this path of the living), perhaps the best way would be to find an insane partner and fight this insane world with double insanity, a childlike insanity. Maybe that is what is Home! A Goa in the sky with lullabies from a thousand diamondback rattles.

Dreams of a starry night

Removed-too personal

Manali-Leh-Srinagar-Part 2

Worlds/Walls of our own

We all live in our own worlds, creating walls which encircle us and are hard to break down. Our citadels are our bastions of wretchedness where we hardly let the omnipresent rays of joy shine through. A top view as of today i.e the 18th day of September 2009, would reveal roughly 6.785 billion such citadels in a vast plain of emptiness with the broken down bricks and mortar of citadels long gone.

Sometimes an enlightening effort would bring some of these citadels together and a restructuring would take place but nevertheless the end would just be another bigger citadel.

We all want to reach out but are afraid due to many reasons. Life's illogical and irrational behavior teaches us a hide and seek game which makes our lives bereft of logic and rationality. We subjectively end up time and again with building our walls higher and higher not really knowing that the answer lies in the the horizontal and not the vertical. Vertical towers of babels where a few lead lives of confusion and where the few mouths confuse the ears and the minds with voices from a thousand tongues. Our walls are built so strong that the rot corrupts all that is within and sanity takes a beating which more than desired leads to the temporary bubbles of stars and dreams akin to the ones puffed up with Marijuana smoke. But such are as transient as the Marijuana jokes, powerfully strong but gone the next minute.

Lives made so pathetic because our circuit boards have been printed to deceive and be deceived. .....And we are all guilty as hell!

betrayed and used

Space space space again……….. What do I write about?, Should I write about the pain and the lack of gain with not a morsel of grain, however emo it may sound. Kind of rhymes though.

So here it goes again. In days of yore sailors would wait in anticipation for their ship to dock after months of voyage and as soon as the ship hit the wood on the buoy and the anchors drop, these fine boys would disappear off into the maze of houses and alleys. The captain and first mate would invariably look the other way as they allow the sailors their hours of debauchery. One would unfailingly find these sailors in the taverns and whorehouses drinking with face deeply buried in tankards of fermented liquid or on ripe and sometimes overripe/rotten pieces of bosoms or alternating between the two. As the hours go by some would find rooms for their temporary comfort and the less discreet ones would do it out on the alleys. For the next few hours, all the months of backbreaking work on the ship with the occasional taste of the captain’s whip and the worm infested food are forgotten. Moments of bliss are spent as the scurvy infected unwashed bodies try to get the maximum that their money can buy of the comfort offered by the ladies of undoubtedly questionable characters. For the few moments bought the fairer bodies offer the comforts of wives and lovers. Even today the practice still carries on from the filthy wharves of the third world to the glitzy and sleazy streets of Holland where such exchanges takes place openly and legally condoned. For the prudish and the morally upright not just the act but the thought of such transactions is one that brings shame and a feeling of filth and unpardonable sin. However on a deeper note one has to understand that there is a perfect understanding between buyer and seller which does not normally stretch beyond, with the transaction being my comfort for your comfort. The seller offers the comfort of her body and the buyer the comforts that his money can purchase for the seller (Of course this is a definition sidelining a few of the evils like child prostitution, human trafficking etc. and assessing the situation objectively). Apart from a few moral laments and the thought of a lake of fire and brimstone, what needs to be appreciated is that such exchanges are done with the utmost honesty. My temporary comfort in exchange for your temporary comfort and the matter ends there. Loyalty, trust, in sickness and in health etc. are all absent which suits the situation very well. Compare this with the hurt that one gets when one finds out that he/she has been cheated, lied to, emotionally kidnapped, manipulated and used. This is in the case of a normal relationship where it is expected to cherish and be cherished and respected. Life becomes a misery when it hits you that you have been played. The hollowness and the sense of emptiness become so big as if to suck all the infinite unhappiness of the world to fill in the void. Imagine what the other person must have thought about while doing what was done to you!. Your sense of betrayal is overpowering and your self respect takes a dump and every single waking moment is spent in trying to drag yourself forward and existence becomes a punishment. And every moment that should be spent sleeping is spent in hollowed waking moments.

In ode to betrayal here is a song from one of my favorite bands, Crowbar:

I gave my heart and soul to you my friend
You let me fall
If you could only see what's in my heart
You'd take my hand
I've lived this life as a man would do
Why's it so hard to find the truth?
My faith is strong within myself
I bleed of pride
Inside
I won't forgive
You can't take it back now
It's to hard to swallow
No words
No conviction
I've found the truth inside myself
But I am still doing time
Opened my eyes to what is real
This world is hard
It's cold
It's agony

Crowbar- Existence Is Punishment

Goodnight to you!