A mail to say its o.k...

Dear Commissioner,

Hope that this mail of mine finds you well. Was caught in a turmoil of conclaves, colloquiums and conferences where i had to render the key-note address from the Development Sector; hence the delay in responding.

Hope you are aware of the 'stun in awe' syndrome that affects people when they come across something as beautiful as what you had sent. w.r.t the opinion poll factor, legend goes that it is very difficult for mediocre files to pass the Commissioner's table... been there to vouch for it too. To prove the legend yet again, this ppt. that has come just off your table, is an ensemble of fine theoritical aspects that cry for the utopian (as if that is too much to ask for) that leans to strike a chord at the apathetic and ignorant crowd.

Sometimes, we wonder in distress if the noise of the silent cry of the victimized and vulnerable is too hard for people to hear... is it so feeble that the doors at which empathy is begged for seldom opens and permanently remains shut?! A paradox where the struggle to connect to the heart has to surpass the mind's acceptance. The appeal is often made to the mind to reach the heart. A far more unreachable connect is the attempt to connect to the soul which we govern not speak any more. Its a lost world! And proudly lost too. Its people like you, the phoenix type, who destroy yourself to ressurect the dead (irony that the imp speaks of these during Easter).

The attempts that I made ever since I saw the slides open was to bring in more crowd to peep into my laptop... however, some lost interest in between the slides and some just stayed for my sake (just that they did not want to offend me by moving away unlike their less faking counterparts) yet some stayed glued, stuck to every word, image and numbers that flowed... these are my fellow "Develop'mental' workers and the amateur crowd". Nevertheless, rather than worry why it did not bother people, the shift was towards what bothered some. Learnt that the faint sign of hope in the utopian still remains in a few who stayed and wanted to work together than criticize, complain and crib. 'If change is expected, be the change' being the mantra. Deep inside, the devil's advocate professes that to help the children on the street care be taken that in a lusty haste don't forego your very own needs and cummulate with them in their own grounds on the streets. Some hands are helplessly bound in a trail of survival; the luxury to do what the heart wants to still being a lust perceived like a mirage in a distance.

A slide towards the end screamed for a change in the system and the "system" that needed a change can be interpreted in too many different ways for which I had to rely upon my friend Lenin (the Revolutionist) for support... 'Begin from the beginning' He said and so rightly said. So thus followed a lecture for the wilfully staggering crowd on primitive Communism where boundaries were erazed and it support rendered not to one's ability yet to one's need. Hope this band wagon that is slowly yet steadily rising string itself well and overcome the issues a.s.a.p... we shall overcome someday!

Will be in touch,

Fredjeev

Raise Your Stakes

What to do when one knows that it is never the wise and always the fool who try to run behind people to offer help yet is forced to?!

Life has always taught as it always does and always will that people holding placards shouting "May I help you?" actually will be taken for granted and actually represent that majority of the community that have problems themselves and try to cover it up by trying to solve the problems of others. Hope all Social WOrkers and Psychologists are listening!

That is why we need to bill the clients so that they feel that they need to get thier money's worth from the sessions... otherwise any professional risks being taken for granted. And usually any service offered for free, is criticized, doubted and ineffective. Charge people for God's sake! I am sure if they can get into shit, they will pay well to get out of it as well.

Paying makes people feel good. They feel worthy to feel good cause they have paid for it. Giving people a chance to feel good, if thats our aim, then topple bills on them. Unless we pay for the medicine, the medicine effect is often negated. No wonder that wonder drugs from the poor sage sitting under a tree meditating, listening to you and making customized medicines poured into bottles the ragpicker picked and cleaned for re-use, often given with a sense of passion and free of cost is ditched with haste and the stethescope and syringe injecting the red medicine (which is actually onlyu a dose of B-complex) more effective (though a placebo) as it comes with a cost.

The Veblen Effect! The costlier it gets, the better it is supposed to be. Bridegrooms quoting a higher dowry (price) tag on their heads are often fought for like a prized calf... Guys ask for more! Charge more! Raise the demand. Superfluous though it sounds, thats what works. Greedy Mamma's and following suit, the Pappa's will give anything to get this guy to put up with their dripping daughter to save her from her misery. Ask for nothing in the name of "Socialism", "Equality" and "Justice" et all the crap, they will deem upon you some malicious scam or ostracize you unmercifully condemning you with some strange unnameable disease yet to be discovered that you possibly might have. Try it; find it; one will know. Why even risk, just raise your stakes and save yourself of all these embarassment.

Bottomline: “When the world has once begun to use us ill, it afterwards continues the same treatment with less scruple or ceremony, as men do to a whore” Jonathan Swift

Tell Me Why?...

From when wilt thou return

from the mountain dews?

From those high peaks that rub my imagination through.

Where oft doth thou disappear

from a fragile trail of foot prints that reappear?

From where the frantic cries of the reaper submerge dies.

What hath thou so wonderfully witnessed

from a town so tinsel lies?

From where the condemnation forked displayed.

When thou art gone

for what must I still low lie?

From whereever, tell me how, tell me now, tell me why?

Bottomline: “The most terrible poverty is loneliness, and the feeling of being unloved.” Mother Teresa

Oft She Reminds...

There is someone who has been tolerating me quite a lot, quite a bit these days... Hey by the by, don't 'quite a lot' and 'quite a bit' mean the same thing though they sound different?

Last heard her say, 'Angel or Devil, Animal or Beast, I love you every single way'... Isn't that something quite nice to hear?

Finding comfort in all the masks one dons... Sometimes the person closest to us is the one who gets burnt the most when the crazy world is at its best doing the worst it can possibly do. At times the fire within that can burn others, burns us as well, which at times seems indestructible and over powering, magnifies and intensifies if soemone tries to send the wind that way... doesn't work. Period. What actually works is a dash of water thrown mercilessy, chilling us to the spine where the effort to errupt will not work no more. Perfect. Another angle that works is that fire often when found at its extreme, is extinguished with fire too. So may be an equal and opposite reaction does the trick too. Precisely.

However, the manipulative mind and the games people play, makes no sense when the soul can rest sans any worry from these rat dens. Oft she reminds that simpler things in life, the basics, those things for survival and living, are simple and prevents me from having an imbalance by rendering me into an excess of those to compensate for the brain games the urban jungles adheres me to play. Sometimes, loaded with more than we can possible fire, people who require due credit and place in our lives, we seldom provide and at moments like these, time renders its support to tell her that she is remembered oft.

The perfect balance is quite imbalanced with more and less often overcrowding into one sphere of our lives... all that one needs and possibly can do is to find a stimulant and grab the time when time plays its lusty tune for us to grab the moment... moment to moment. Some of the best plans are oft the unplanned plans. So I learnt.

Bottomline: “To love is to risk not being loved in return. To hope is to risk pain. To try is to risk failure, but risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.”

From the Hunted Hut in a War Island, a Lonely Cry...

Hence when did thy breasts hate to feed me?
Hence then haven’t they heaved to need me?
Oh mother! Why art thou so silent?

Those bombs and those ammos from the machine guns, they bother me no more.
They sound more like a lullaby to me.
Wasn’t it you who reassured me that this is life even before I was born?
Now why do you still lie?

My eyes still won’t open full and I only see darkness wherever I see.
Tears have dried and my voice too fragile to rise above the noise outside me.
Oh mom! Why can’t you shout for me?

I heard papa’s plea to let you go before they shot that mercilless bullet into his head.
I saw it, I saw it all...
I heard you beg to let me go;
Now where did you go too?
Why have they taken it all even before I can understand in a life time or more what this is all for?

Is it wrong that I was born to thee?!
Tell me mom, tell me now from up above,
won’t a bullet silence me too?

Bottomline: “I dream of giving birth to a child who will ask, "Mother, what was war?" Eve Merriam

From the Mind to the Heart...

Ruthless summer scorching the winds that blow,

From deep within, from the abyss of the mind, begins a scorching even more.

The volcano of thoughts boiling the ground below, that moment of calm before the storm.

The waves of the ocean too mellow they sound yet the depths of the mystery they so profoundly do hide.

In wellness and mystic calm, there is a tension uprising;

waiting for the emotions to get a definite form.

The molten lava that soon will flow and sure it will wait for none or spare none who fall that way,

such is anger and such is anger divine with knuckles buckling with each clench, teeth grinding with each blow endured, and the smell of blood mixing so well with sweat for the pain borne.

A reminder that some reasons matter no more for the brunt comes from a crux of essence undisclosed, so passive and vivid now that the one that bears is lost in the faint reminder of the trance that life has led itself into.

What makes people think that by birth they are given the slot they stick their arses to?

What insecurity makes them kick the one's that climb?

What prevents them from enjoying the fight?

What stops them from dropping a helping hand than nuzzling the neck with their heavy boots?

When will this crushing be over?

When will they ever learn that life is simple and we live it just once?

Fate and Karma are just one over-hyped bullshit to soothe the heart and to reinstall that mortals are immortal... when will they that behest the chance and blame it on fate and karma ever see that the heart doth ruleth the world and seldom the mind and the distance between both the longest one oft travels.

Bottomline: Give me the money that has been spent in war and I will clothe every man, woman, and child in an attire of which kings and queens will be proud. I will build a schoolhouse in every valley over the whole earth. I will crown every hillside with a place of worship consecrated to peace. ~Charles Sumner