Monthly Archives: April 2012
“If you judge people, you have no time to love them.”
“Time is a created thing. To say ‘I don’t have time,’ is like saying, ‘I don’t want to.”
― Lao Tzu
“Time is precious, but truth is more precious than time.”
Time, an element whose importance can’t really be expressed in any form. Time lost, well, is Time gone. There is no way of getting it back, ever. I’m pretty sure everyone has felt at some time of their life, if they could go back, or change some things, or just predict/construct out the future in their mind, manipulating it exactly the way they want. I know I’ve done that.
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Nearly everyone has seen a coin toss. Many have tossed a coin. The landing is significant here. By a bit of simple inertia imparted onto it, the coin slips through the air, flipping over and over, then finally landing on a surface to reveal only one side. Is this random? Just chance alone? In the sphere of happenstance, the coin is like the human experience.
Are we all like the coin; stamped, beveled, polished, flipped then spent? We surely can be if we desire. But most desire it not. No matter, the coin is solid and human. The coin is the working of polarity. One side is opposite the other, and starkly different; much like the persona. Only we must see the fabric that binds the sides together; we must witness the essence of spirit.
I knew a man once who was admiringly friendly. A friend to all; he could…
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– By Keshav Vineet
“I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.”
― Alice Walker, The Color Purple
– By Ankit Vasisht
“I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.”
― Alice Walker, The Color Purple
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My Memory
I’ve been accused of thinking too much at times. I know there could be worse accusation than that, so I guess I’ll go ahead and agree with that accusation. As I’ve said before in other posts, I have a vivid memory. Although I don’t remember much of my childhood, I have amazing recall from the age of around 15 up to now. Smell is the most intense trigger, followed by sound. I love my memories. I used to get sad and depressed when I would recall the past, but I’m not going to punish myself any longer by focussing on regrets. I’ve got a lot of life to live, and I refuse to live it miserably by beating myself up all the time. My regrets always cloud out the amazing experiences I’ve had, and the amazing things I’ve seen. No more. Where I’ve been and what I’ve done has made me who I am today. I’ve made my amends, or attempted to. I’m looking forward to the future. The last few times I’ve recollected stuff, it has put me in a good mood because I’ve focussed on the simple, little things that made whatever memory I recall important to me. My perception. Perception is reality. I’m very thankful that I’m blessed with my memories. I hope to make many more. They are my happy places, and I’m truly blessed with them. Instead of looking at some of them as places that I’ll never get back to, I look at them as places that I’m lucky to have been. I’ll get back to some of them someday, and I’ll add new places to want to return to.
I can sit and remember the way butter schnitzel smelled in Germany. I can close my eyes and perfectly remember all of the wonderful things I seen, and all of the wonderful laughs that I laughed while I was there. I can remember how the sun lit up the hill sides on while riding through the countryside in France, on my way to Paris from Spangdhalem. I can remember how old and beautiful Liege, Belgium is. I can smell the scent of Spring outside, and recall how the time I spent in Amsterdam was. Whenever I smell curry, it reminds me of Singapore. It was one of the hottest places I’ve ever been. When my unit’s flight landed, I remember how the windows automatically fogged up. I can smell certain types of beer and remember how amazing the night life was there. The people were friendly, the weather was amazing, and the food was outstanding. The memory that sticks out the most while I was in Singapore was sitting out in front of the flat that my unit and I were staying in, the sun beating down on me, I was drinking a beer and playing my cheap, black, Fender acoustic on the front steps. I was 21 years old. Whenever I sit outside in the summer and it’s miserably hot and muggy, I think of that particular Singapore memory and it makes the weather a little more bearable. Every time I smell steak, or hear a song by the Beatles, I think of Japan. I had amazing food at a Japanese steak house in Misawa, and I karaoked my ass off in Misawa and Kadena. When I smell pulled or roasted pork, I immediately think of Guam. Guam was beautiful. It’s called the poor man’s Hawaii. I remember going to a beach party there, and I ate Hotnon Babui. I also remember a patio party outside of where we were staying on Anderson Air Base. Our Japanese counterparts were having a cookout, and the smell of hot dogs filled the air. However, the difference was that instead of using buns, they would cut the hot dogs up and eat them with chop sticks. We ultimately ended up drunk and singing Beatles songs. Every time I go into the school I attend, the smell of one of the buildings is identical to the smell of the barracks I lived in while stationed in Alaska. Sometimes the smell of the fall reminds me of the Rockies when I drove through them and lived in the Wasatch Front while stationed in Utah. Memory is a hell of a thing.
Oddly enough, if I close my eyes and let my mind take me to the beaches of Jamaica and Cozumel, Mexico, I can actually hear the ocean in my mind. It’s almost like I go into a semi-state of sleep. When I concentrate like that, I actually feel like I’m back on those beaches. My mind can actually trigger my senses, and I can almost smell the scent of Tropicana tanning lotion, beach sweat, and the salt of the ocean in the air. Usually after engaging in a memory like that, I go to sleep, and I sleep well. This used to give me a sense of longing to be back on those beaches. It would make my heart hurt knowing and thinking that I would probably never smell those smells again, or feel that warmth of the sand under my toes. Now, it just makes me smile. I may never see, smell, hear, or feel those things again other than in my mind. But, I can’t honestly say that with complete certainty. Even if I could, it doesn’t mean that I won’t experience something close to them, or better. The same goes for those areas in Europe and Asia that I’ve had the honor of going to. I look forward to anything that comes my way, especially travelling again. From the ages of 19-30, I moved every 3 or 4 years, and I travelled around the world from wherever I lived. Once I moved back home, I took a couple amazing vacations over a 3 year span. I think that I’ve got the travel bug again. I’m not used to sitting in one place for too long.
The point of this post is that I appreciate the little things. The things that are only mine in those memories are the smells and sensations that I experienced. They are no one elses. Everyone experiences things differently, and that is what makes memories one of a kind. They should be appreciated as such. I will feel more things throughout my life that will make me appreciate my life even more. The way I experience them will be the way they are remembered. They say that your life flashes before your eyes when you die. I hope that not only my life, but the smells, visions, sensations, and sounds flash through my mind as well.
– By Saurabh Singhal
“Even
After
All this time
The Sun never says to the Earth,“You owe me.”
Look
What happens
With a love like that,
It lights the whole sky.”― Hafez
– By Jyotsna Vulpey
– By Ankit Agarwal
“There is, I have heard, a little thing called sunrise, in which the sun reverses the process we all viewed the night before. You might assume such a thing as mythical as those beasts that guard the corners of the earth, but I have it on the finest authority, and have, indeed, from time to time, regarded it with my own eyes.”
– Lauren Willig, The Garden Intrigue — at 12th block.
Enjoy these great shots. My exams are finally getting over today. Expect some even greater posts in the coming time :). Till then, good day everyone!
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If I could tell my younger self only one thing, it would be this: Don’t be afraid. There are no ghosts in your closet or monsters under your bed. Do not be afraid of wild things. You are a wild thing. Roar like it. Have a wild rumpus or two.
When you are learning how to ride a bike, you will fall down, a lot. You will get injured almost every time you try to play a sport. It will hurt, but you will survive. Don’t let your fear of pain keep you from trying. You will spend your whole life regretting the chances you didn’t take.
When you get a little bit older, you will be afraid that no one will like you. You will constantly fear with others think about you. When you aren’t included in something, you will see it as your own failure, and you will…
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Have you ever been so certain of something,
only to find that you were completely wrong?
It’s so liberating.
A weight of responsibility
lifts from your shoulders,
Because you make mistakes too.
You play the role of human in this production.
It’s even greater when you think you know something,
then you find out your wrong,
then you find out you were originally right in the first-place.
“Well am I really correct,
do I hold the truth of the situation,
or will my perceptions once again flip.
Now I can‘t rightfully know ANYTHING,
can I?”
This offers the greatest sense of emancipation
from the network of truth.
Weaved into web,
sticky network,
waiting to pull you in.
But upon realizing you’re not at all infallible,
your certainty gets pulled back and spread out,
the way the tide roles in and take a sand castle.
You become not only separate from…
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Humans have formed groups for thousands of years; from the family to the clan, to the tribe and so forth onto the kingdom and city-state. Many say that this is simply instinct; a survival instinct. As social creatures we find safety in larger numbers. We also have the clique, here in the sphere of segregation.
The word segregation comes with a stigma as it is often associated with race. However, this sphere represents the unique groups that all humans form, are drawn to, or avoid. Groups generally form from individuals who share certain things in common. These groups then segregate themselves from other “different” groups. This segregation and separation can be seen throughout time in every culture.
Junior high and High school is a perfect example of this. I am often reminded of the cliques and groups that stood as miniature huddles during lunchtime, or in the hall between classes.
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The World I Live In 