Sunday, June 14, 2009
People I ‘love’…
I greatly ‘admire’ people who are incredibly pigheaded and stupid, tremendously insecure, highly incompetent and easily provoked. People who have a dastardly, pessimistic attitude and announce their problems to the whole world over Facebook or Gtalk or email or whatever, because they do not have the guts to stand up and talk. :p There are quite a few of you out there. Thank you so much… you bring out the very best in me. :-D
California Dreamin...
All the leaves are brown,
All the leaves are brown.
And the sky is grey,
And the sky is grey.
I've been for a walk,
I've been for a walk.
On a winter's day,
On a winter's day.
I'd be safe and warm,
I'd be safe and warm...
If I was in LA
If I was in LA.
California dreamin...
California dreamin...
On such a winter's day
Stopped into a church
I passed along the way.
Well, I got down on my knees,
Got down on my knees.
And I pretend to pray,
I pretend to pray.
You know the preacher likes the cold,
Preacher likes the cold.
He knows I'm gonna stay,
Knows I'm gonna stay.
California dreamin...
California dreamin...
On such a winter's day.
All the leaves are brown,
All the leaves are brown.
And the sky is grey,
And the sky is grey.
I've been for a walk,
I've been for a walk.
On a winter's day,
On a winters day.
If I didn't tell her,
If I didnt tell her.
I could leave today,
I could leave today.
California dreamin...
California dreamin...
All the leaves are brown.
And the sky is grey,
And the sky is grey.
I've been for a walk,
I've been for a walk.
On a winter's day,
On a winter's day.
I'd be safe and warm,
I'd be safe and warm...
If I was in LA
If I was in LA.
California dreamin...
California dreamin...
On such a winter's day
Stopped into a church
I passed along the way.
Well, I got down on my knees,
Got down on my knees.
And I pretend to pray,
I pretend to pray.
You know the preacher likes the cold,
Preacher likes the cold.
He knows I'm gonna stay,
Knows I'm gonna stay.
California dreamin...
California dreamin...
On such a winter's day.
All the leaves are brown,
All the leaves are brown.
And the sky is grey,
And the sky is grey.
I've been for a walk,
I've been for a walk.
On a winter's day,
On a winters day.
If I didn't tell her,
If I didnt tell her.
I could leave today,
I could leave today.
California dreamin...
California dreamin...
Apolitical Intellectuals ~ Comrade Otto Rene Castillo
One day
the apolitical
intellectuals
of my country
will be interrogated
by the simplest
of our people.
They will be asked
what they did
when their nation died out
slowly,
like a sweet fire
small and alone.
No one will ask them
about their dress,
their long siestas
after lunch,
no one will want to know
about their sterile combats
with "the idea
of the nothing"
no one will care about
their higher financial learning.
They won't be questioned
on Greek mythology,
or regarding their self-disgust
when someone within them
begins to die
the coward's death.
They'll be asked nothing
about their absurd
justifications,
born in the shadow
of the total lie.
On that day
the simple men will come.
Those who had no place
in the books and poems
of the apolitical intellectuals,
but daily delivered
their bread and milk,
their tortillas and eggs,
those who drove their cars,
who cared for their dogs and gardens
and worked for them,
and they'll ask:
"What did you do when the poor
suffered, when tenderness
and life
burned out of them?"
Apolitical intellectuals
of my sweet country,
you will not be able to answer.
A vulture of silence
will eat your gut.
Your own misery
will pick at your soul.
And you will be mute in your shame.
the apolitical
intellectuals
of my country
will be interrogated
by the simplest
of our people.
They will be asked
what they did
when their nation died out
slowly,
like a sweet fire
small and alone.
No one will ask them
about their dress,
their long siestas
after lunch,
no one will want to know
about their sterile combats
with "the idea
of the nothing"
no one will care about
their higher financial learning.
They won't be questioned
on Greek mythology,
or regarding their self-disgust
when someone within them
begins to die
the coward's death.
They'll be asked nothing
about their absurd
justifications,
born in the shadow
of the total lie.
On that day
the simple men will come.
Those who had no place
in the books and poems
of the apolitical intellectuals,
but daily delivered
their bread and milk,
their tortillas and eggs,
those who drove their cars,
who cared for their dogs and gardens
and worked for them,
and they'll ask:
"What did you do when the poor
suffered, when tenderness
and life
burned out of them?"
Apolitical intellectuals
of my sweet country,
you will not be able to answer.
A vulture of silence
will eat your gut.
Your own misery
will pick at your soul.
And you will be mute in your shame.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Viduthalai...
Hello there. It’s been a while since I posted anything. Hmm… The past few months have been very liberating. For most of 2008, I had been living a rather stressed out life… surrounded by people who had an almost toxic effect on me… weighed down and suffocated by their expectations, scrutiny and even ‘diktats’ (Ha!)… Being provoked… losing my cool, making rash, harsh remarks (at times, without adequate reason) and generally, unable to do justice to myself and calmly comprehend and prioritise the things that happened and those that really matter. A lot of my time was wasted. Like Batman tells Harvey Dent in The Dark Knight, “He (The Joker) wanted to prove that even someone as good as me could fall.” Nobody intentionally played The Joker in my case, but fall I did. When you’re pushed to the brink, driven to your wits’ end, not given an inch, confronted by pitiless attitude, it’s very hard not to go down. If I had gone on that way for a moment longer, unable to break my fall, unable to break free, get rid of the shackles, the rest of my life would have been a living hell. I’m thankful to the Almighty for showing me the way in the nick of time and saving me from what certainly would have been the gravest mistake I could have made. Whew!
PS: Dear God, perhaps you could have guided me in this regard a little earlier. : D
PS: Dear God, perhaps you could have guided me in this regard a little earlier. : D
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
2009...
Okay, so I am among the lucky ones who actually survived 2008 without much ado. Still, it was a forgettable year for several reasons, so good riddance. Not that there are many things to look forward to this year, but at least it may just present a clearer picture of where we are headed. Of course, with the economic slowdown, it’s best not to expect too much on the career front — lying low and working hard is obviously the safest option. Acquiring new skills and getting that postgraduate degree might help. In fact, there is no better time than now. So, folks, count your blessings. Be patient. Be good. Hang in there. And keep the faith.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Thursday, December 4, 2008
'If' by Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,'
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,'
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
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