Saturday, July 30, 2011
I had a dream…a dream about myself few years from now. It was about me writing a letter and delivering it at your grave…
Little, may be insignificant something originated from the brief intersection of our lives some time ago. I remember the day when we met after a long time. You asked me if I was honest in what I said. I answered affirmatively, and you revealed yourself as the same, in a soft voice barely audible over the noise in the surrounding. I remarked on the karmic connection of our present premises…being connected after a long time. You returned with, "Yes, and despite the technology too."
On the other hand, your affirmation was evidently not genuine, which I could gather little later. I was honest to counsel you from my amateur's seat of clarity. I asked if you truly are where your heart is, because that is where you must be, and stop living on others’ emotions. With your canny demeanor, you replied that you were true about your emotions. My respect for honesty did not seem to impress you with a prospect for your immediate success. Discoveries about your relentless efforts to deceive everyone in your life surprised me. My inevitable decision...my choice to let go followed.
You were like a river singing the same song with the gushing waters, no matter who stops by to enjoy your melody. Alas, you could not realize that a song of love is worthy enough to be true and a continuous one. My thoughts and feelings were never understood, for we had no language in common.
Now that you are no more, and that I write to you after a long time, I feel awkward, for writing to a person like you, who not only suffered while being alive, but also not regretful enough that you bless your soul to suffer more, for sinful deeds of your existence.
May your soul rest in peace, or in pieces?
To be continued…
P.S.: This blog post presents a first view/glimpse of the chapter titled ‘Final Dream’ of my book (not yet published) titled Precocious Truth: Unrequited Love. You may read the prologue for the same here.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.
We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.
We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.
We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.
We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait.
We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.
These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just let go...
Remember; spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever. Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side. Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.
Remember, to say, 'I love you' to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. An embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you. Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again. Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.
- George Carlin
P.S: This blog post is not a work of mine. I hope this post will be an inspiration.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
I've had this post sitting as a draft - work in progress for over a year now. Often when an important media outlet publishes something about being an 'independent woman'...I read it, find it either boring or angering, feel unsatisfied, left out, talked down to, or all of the above. If the story spoke about a particularly narrow minded approach of looking at independent women (by narrow minded, I refer to outlook towards present day realities), I consciously choose not to think on it, and I put it aside and move on.
These stories felt unrealistic and awful, in many ways they kept my anguish alive, although I couldn't have known at that time the extent to which they were very particular stories told from a particular perspective, presented as a truth long untold. On the contrary, I consider concepts such as feminism and being an 'independent woman' enjoy obnoxious comfort zone in our present day social life. Most of the stories speak of a dubious trend - a collectively guarded bubble of hope...feminism.
Bitch(es) Beyond Repair
The primary point that I wish to discuss in this post: Is the phrase 'independent woman' passé? Unfortunately, unlike many others who wish to follow the acceptable trend to guard the bubble, I want to discuss about being an 'independent woman'. The picture she (an independent woman) paints of contemporary sexuality and contemporary life feels like the opposite of an acceptable social revelation. Certainly for those of us, who fit neatly into a gender debate, will argue otherwise.
During my last visit to United States, I remember hearing one woman say,
"...sorry for hurting you and to break your heart, truly this is not me...it is how people made me to be...I seek growth, and to be truthful will mean a compromise..."
An interesting phrase in that conversation,
...to be truthful will mean a compromise...gave me reasons enough to think about the possibility of an emerging trend...independent women, babelicious are a passé...
Ladies and Gentlemen...allow me to present to you...Bitch(es) Beyond Repair...the emerging social trend...when a woman turns into a heavily resource consuming commodity with little or no ethical judgment, immaturity beyond comprehension, attitude beyond control and uses her sexuality, rather than intellect as the tool for career / worldly progression...we have a bitch beyond repair (BBR).