Monday, July 23, 2012
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Auguries of Innocence
Auguries of Innocence
By William Blake
To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.
A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.
A dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell thro' all its regions.
A dog starv'd at his master's gate
Predicts the ruin of the state.
A horse misused upon the road
Calls to heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.
A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The game-cock clipt and arm'd for fight
Does the rising sun affright.
Every wolf's and lion's howl
Raises from hell a human soul.
The wild deer, wand'ring here and there,
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misus'd breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher's knife.
The bat that flits at close of eve
Has left the brain that won't believe.
The owl that calls upon the night
Speaks the unbeliever's fright.
He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be belov'd by men.
He who the ox to wrath has mov'd
Shall never be by woman lov'd.
The wanton boy that kills the fly
Shall feel the spider's enmity.
He who torments the chafer's sprite
Weaves a bower in endless night.
The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
For the last judgement draweth nigh.
He who shall train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
The beggar's dog and widow's cat,
Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.
The gnat that sings his summer's song
Poison gets from slander's tongue.
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of envy's foot.
The poison of the honey bee
Is the artist's jealousy.
The prince's robes and beggar's rags
Are toadstools on the miser's bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so;
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know,
Thro' the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
The babe is more than swaddling bands;
Throughout all these human lands,
Tools were made and born were hands,
Every farmer understands.
Every tear from every eye
Becomes a babe in eternity;
This is caught by females bright,
And return'd to its own delight.
The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar,
Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.
The babe that weeps the rod beneath
Writes revenge in realms of death.
The beggar's rags, fluttering in air,
Does to rags the heavens tear.
The soldier, arm'd with sword and gun,
Palsied strikes the summer's sun.
The poor man's farthing is worth more
Than all the gold on Afric's shore.
One mite wrung from the lab'rer's hands
Shall buy and sell the miser's lands;
Or, if protected from on high,
Does that whole nation sell and buy.
He who mocks the infant's faith
Shall be mock'd in age and death.
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.
He who respects the infant's faith
Triumphs over hell and death.
The child's toys and the old man's reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.
The questioner, who sits so sly,
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt
Doth put the light of knowledge out.
The strongest poison ever known
Came from Caesar's laurel crown.
Nought can deform the human race
Like to the armour's iron brace.
When gold and gems adorn the plow,
To peaceful arts shall envy bow.
A riddle, or the cricket's cry,
Is to doubt a fit reply.
The emmet's inch and eagle's mile
Make lame philosophy to smile.
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you please.
If the sun and moon should doubt,
They'd immediately go out.
To be in a passion you good may do,
But no good if a passion is in you.
The whore and gambler, by the state
Licensed, build that nation's fate.
The harlot's cry from street to street
Shall weave old England's winding-sheet.
The winner's shout, the loser's curse,
Dance before dead England's hearse.
Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born,
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
We are led to believe a lie
When we see not thro' the eye,
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.
God appears, and God is light,
To those poor souls who dwell in night;
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.
And listen to it, at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wi848QqLbdo
Friday, June 29, 2012
Desiderata
“Some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity…”
– Gilda Radner
Desiderata (Latin: "desired things", perfect passive participle of desidero) is a 1927 prose poem by American writer Max Ehrmann (1872–1945). Largely unknown in the author's lifetime, the text became widely known after its use in a devotional, after subsequently being found at Adlai Stevenson's deathbed in 1965, and after spoken-word recordings in 1971 and 1972. [Wikipedia]
The full text:
Go placidly amidst the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its shams, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Now hear it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_F3KRPM0Ls
– Gilda Radner
Desiderata (Latin: "desired things", perfect passive participle of desidero) is a 1927 prose poem by American writer Max Ehrmann (1872–1945). Largely unknown in the author's lifetime, the text became widely known after its use in a devotional, after subsequently being found at Adlai Stevenson's deathbed in 1965, and after spoken-word recordings in 1971 and 1972. [Wikipedia]
The full text:
Go placidly amidst the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its shams, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Now hear it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_F3KRPM0Ls
Thursday, June 28, 2012
If You Forget Me
Looks like I'm getting hooked onto poetry these days. Today, I want you to read an intensely passionate one. By Pablo Neruda. It's titled:
IF YOU FORGET ME
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
And here's Madonna reciting the same for you, most beautifully, and with meaningful pictures in the background.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f88n8eQCGvs&feature=related
IF YOU FORGET ME
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
And here's Madonna reciting the same for you, most beautifully, and with meaningful pictures in the background.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f88n8eQCGvs&feature=related
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
If!
It has been a while, hasnt it? Well, it has been a hell of a year so far! Awesomeness only gets better with each passing day - 2012 I LOVE YOU! And this is despite the fact that I didnt even qualify the CS (Mains) exam. No worries, babe! I'm doing this one last time now and it had better be good *self pat* If it doesnt turn out well, then lets just bow out! :)
Okay, I'm drifting away from the topic. If I've put 'Invictus' here, then I must go ahead and do the good thing - add Rudyard Kipling's 'IF' here. It's absolutely riveting, captivating, motivating etc etc etc. A treasure, I'd say! And a real pick-me-up, when you're not doing well and is not particularly happy with life. Well, go ahead and enjoy. And yes, kudos to the British stiff-upper lip spirit! You got me hooked there! :)
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!
Now, also enjoy the following:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pFaENAjk54s, by spokenverse
and
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=is-JCJCUy18&feature=related, by two of my favourite heroes on earth!
Explanation:
"If all men count with you" means: if you value each and every person; "but none too much" - but you do not favour one to the disadvantage of others
When Kipling states, "If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds' worth of distance run," he is saying that with every minute that you are given, make the absolute most of it that you can. "Unforgiving minute" refers to the fact that every single minute is 60 seconds long-no more, and no less. So when that minute is up, it is gone, forever. You can't call it back to spend that time differently. A minute is not merciful; it doesn't slow itself down to give you more time, or tack on a few seconds, or take a few of here or there. It is unforgiving time; always constant, always running. So, Kipling's advice is to fill every minute "with sixty seconds' worth of distance run," or to get as much good, effort, energy and distance out of every minute that you are given.
[Source: wikianswers]
Okay, I'm drifting away from the topic. If I've put 'Invictus' here, then I must go ahead and do the good thing - add Rudyard Kipling's 'IF' here. It's absolutely riveting, captivating, motivating etc etc etc. A treasure, I'd say! And a real pick-me-up, when you're not doing well and is not particularly happy with life. Well, go ahead and enjoy. And yes, kudos to the British stiff-upper lip spirit! You got me hooked there! :)
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!
Now, also enjoy the following:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pFaENAjk54s, by spokenverse
and
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=is-JCJCUy18&feature=related, by two of my favourite heroes on earth!
Explanation:
"If all men count with you" means: if you value each and every person; "but none too much" - but you do not favour one to the disadvantage of others
When Kipling states, "If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds' worth of distance run," he is saying that with every minute that you are given, make the absolute most of it that you can. "Unforgiving minute" refers to the fact that every single minute is 60 seconds long-no more, and no less. So when that minute is up, it is gone, forever. You can't call it back to spend that time differently. A minute is not merciful; it doesn't slow itself down to give you more time, or tack on a few seconds, or take a few of here or there. It is unforgiving time; always constant, always running. So, Kipling's advice is to fill every minute "with sixty seconds' worth of distance run," or to get as much good, effort, energy and distance out of every minute that you are given.
[Source: wikianswers]
Friday, January 6, 2012
Timeless Tagore
Remember me, still remember me,
if I go far away,
still remember me
If old love gets covered by the mesh of new love,
remember me
still remember me
If I stay close by,
yet you cannot see whether, like a shadow,
I am present or not,
remember me
still remember me
If tears come to your eyelids
If tears come to your eyelids
If play ceases one day, one spring night,
still remember me
If work is stopped one day, one autumn dawn,
remember me
If I come to your mind,
yet heavy tears no longer brim
in the corners of your eyes
still remember me
Remember me, still remember me
PS: Thanks to William Radice's article of the same title, published in the latest Frontline issue. Available online at http://www.frontlineonnet.com/stories/20120113282700400.htm
if I go far away,
still remember me
If old love gets covered by the mesh of new love,
remember me
still remember me
If I stay close by,
yet you cannot see whether, like a shadow,
I am present or not,
remember me
still remember me
If tears come to your eyelids
If tears come to your eyelids
If play ceases one day, one spring night,
still remember me
If work is stopped one day, one autumn dawn,
remember me
If I come to your mind,
yet heavy tears no longer brim
in the corners of your eyes
still remember me
Remember me, still remember me
PS: Thanks to William Radice's article of the same title, published in the latest Frontline issue. Available online at http://www.frontlineonnet.com/stories/20120113282700400.htm
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
And the year is done :)
Well, almost so!
Before I begin, I want to say: Happy birthday to me!
Yup, today is indeed my birthday. No matter who forgets it, I will always try to remember this one day, as long as I live, of course!
I like having an end-of-the-year birthday. It is the most festive time of the year, and I share the glory with Christ (his was 2 days back) and the coming year's birthday, which is due in 5 days from now. Which also means cakes are around, which I can pass off as my own birthday cakes.
Well, all that aside, lets take a quick look at how eventful this one year was. I mean all years are eventful, but 2011, you are(were) a B.I.T.C.H! Of course, the nice kind of bitch! ;)
#1. Started the year in tears, crying over an absolutely pointless point! Whoa. Glad that I did so. Have actually got over it and learnt to graduate to serious things.
#2. For the most part of the year (read 11 and a half months) I isolated myself from the rest of human civilsation under the excuse of having to study for civil services exam. Well, I did need the isolation, but not quite sure if that was the correct strategy. I definitely didnt need the bouts of loneliness. But that should NOT be interpreted in the light of #1.
#3. The turbulent world around. I dont know if it is because I am preparing for the civil services exam that this suddenly seems to make more sense than it did to me in the past. The Arab uprising, the Islamic spring, the killing of the dreaded Bin Laden, Qadafi, the global population hitting 7 million, the continuing recession, the Eurozone crisis, Norwegian attack, Julian Assange and his wikileaks, the flash floods and deaths, Anna Hazare and protests, mindless and continued disruption of the Parliament, wrapping up of NASA's space shuttle missions, the derailed climate talks, the piracy menace, famine in Somalia, the birth of South Sudan and the suppression of possibility of birth of Palestine as an independent nation. And closer home we have been having a very sour fight with TN over Mullaperiyar. Doesnt really sound bright, does it? On the brighter side, the World Cup win, F1 race coming home.
#4. On the personal front, this is how I shall sum it up: 'if you begin an year in tears, your year can only get better than that!' :)
The point being, I let myself get hurt over somebody's misplaced (perverted?) sense of humour and after I learnt the hard way to get over trivial people and things! Which I consider a very very valuable lesson.
Emphasising this alone would be a disgrace to the greater blessings that came my way. So let us forget about the sore point and focus on the real ones:
*Academically, legally, literally and figuratively, I struck gold! Thrice over, and more! ;)
*I passed CS (P)! Which was a very humbling moment. And my Mains went well, save for two papers.
*I made new friends - a couple of very nice people, I've a feeling they are here to stay.
* YES I finally got rid of my facebook account. It is a facebook-free life! :)
#5. What 2012 looks like, from here: When an year is as long as 365 whole days, 366 in 2012, it sure is not going to be an absolute-total-bag-of-roses, but at least, the beginning does look good. What with the big fat 'WEDDING' and the welcoming of Atma home, it sure does look great.
All I know is I have got to get rid of the clutter and the sloth, get back on my schedule.
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