I cried and laughed,
I laughed and cried,
between crying
and laughing ...
I laughed
They told me,
I am mad.
but
again,
I laughed.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Either/Or
Marry and you will regret it. Do not marry, and you will also regret it. Marry or do not marry, you will regret it either way. Whether you marry or you do not marry, you will regret it either way. Laugh at the stupidities of the world, and you will regret it; weep over them, and you will also regret it. Laugh at the stupidities of the world or weep over them, you will regret it either way. Whether you laugh at the stupidities of the world or you weep over them, you will regret it either way. Trust a girl, and you will regret it. Do not trust her, and you will also regret it. Trust a girl or do not trust her, you will regret it either way. Whether you trust a girl or do not trust her, you will regret it either way. Hang yourself, and you will regret it. Do not hang yourself, and you will also regret it. Hang yourself or do not hang yourself, you will regret it either way. Whether you hang yourself or do not hang yourself, you will regret it either way. This, gentlemen, is the quintessence of all the wisdom of life.
- Soren Kierkegaard
- Soren Kierkegaard
Martin Luther King Speech
I Have a Dream - Address at March on Washington
August 28, 1963. Washington, D.C.
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation. [Applause]
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.
But one hundred years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize an appalling condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to open the doors of opportunity to all of God's children. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment and to underestimate the determination of the Negro. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day the state of Alabama, whose governor's lips are presently dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, will be transformed into a situation where little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith with which I return to the South. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."
And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!
Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous peaks of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and every molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
August 28, 1963. Washington, D.C.
I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation. [Applause]
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.
But one hundred years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize an appalling condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to open the doors of opportunity to all of God's children. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment and to underestimate the determination of the Negro. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day the state of Alabama, whose governor's lips are presently dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, will be transformed into a situation where little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith with which I return to the South. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."
And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!
Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous peaks of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and every molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
Deaf political leaders
This is with reference to the article by Bhaskar Koirala "Middle political path" (May 5). It is true that India and the Maoists are the key elements related ot the development of our country. As you have pointed out, all those individuals who are supporting the indefinite strike are all Nepalis. And it is our duty to support for the greater cause. But aparently, things are not going as they seem to be. In addition, your article looks interesting which points out that we need to find the common middle ground between left and right.
The stike is in place for the past six days. And only God knows, when this political impasse will end. There is no doub thtat the 'wait and see' policy of our leaders is taking us nowhere. It is obvious that th elonger the "indefinite" strike styas, the harder it will be for every individual in the ocuntry.
I don't understand why this is going on. The ledaers who think they are competent seem incompetent. There are many political pundits who are extensively writing about 'indefinite strike', 'quit PM' and 'peaceful strikes'. However, hardly any of our political leaders seem to nitice these issues and take these opinions seriously. They are holding meetings but the outcome has so far remainded zero.
Santosh Kalwar
Ratnangar 4, Tandi
Chitwan
Published: Republica
Letters to the Editor
The stike is in place for the past six days. And only God knows, when this political impasse will end. There is no doub thtat the 'wait and see' policy of our leaders is taking us nowhere. It is obvious that th elonger the "indefinite" strike styas, the harder it will be for every individual in the ocuntry.
I don't understand why this is going on. The ledaers who think they are competent seem incompetent. There are many political pundits who are extensively writing about 'indefinite strike', 'quit PM' and 'peaceful strikes'. However, hardly any of our political leaders seem to nitice these issues and take these opinions seriously. They are holding meetings but the outcome has so far remainded zero.
Santosh Kalwar
Ratnangar 4, Tandi
Chitwan
Published: Republica
Letters to the Editor
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Land of hunger
Land of hunger
Hunger, am I.
Hungry, you are.
In this hunger,
Only one gets fulfilled.
The life full
With perplexity, Complexities, pride
And honors
Mine are nothing
Materialistic,
Without, your smile
So, eloquently sober.
Dive into me
I know.
Ways to reach,
The way no one will ever preach
Away, far away
From this boring
And clumsy,
Land of hunger
Brinkmanship
Your editorial rightly pointed out that the 'wait-and-watch' tactic of the government vis-a-vis the nationwide Maoist strike could prove dangerous ("No time to lose", May 4, Page 6). Already Valley residents are panicking about the shortage of food and basic necessities. If the parties don't reach some kind of consensus soon, the peaceful strike can turn violent anytime as the patience of the agitators as well as government representatives are likely to be tested the longer the strike continues. The situation might them be out of control.
Santosh Kalwar
Ratnangar-4, Tandi
Chitwan
Published: The Kathmandu Post
Letters to the Editor
Santosh Kalwar
Ratnangar-4, Tandi
Chitwan
Published: The Kathmandu Post
Letters to the Editor
Friday, April 30, 2010
Puzzling long hair
The relationship between me and my long hair goes back to 2065 B.S and now we are already into 2067. I suspect that it is longer than present day men-women relationships. I used to have long hair like famous Hollywood, Bollywood and ‘Some-wood’ actors. Unfortunately, I do not have long hair anymore.
I always loved my long hair simply because I believe that hair is like an ornament of man’s mind, as diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Every man’s hair determines his personality. However, in eastern societies hardly anyone accepts long hair. If someone has long hair, they will presume that a normal educated and intelligent guy is a ‘Hero’ or ‘Dada’ or ‘Gunda’.
Once I had to attend a job interview in a reputed Internet company in Kathmandu. I was surprised when an interviewer said, “Before I accept you as an employee in our organization, please cut your long hair.” I was in a dilemma. However, I had to get rid of my long hair in order to secure a job in the reputed Internet company. Sadly for me, I lost my lovely long hair.
It seems that people evaluate you based on your looks and appearances. Today, my appearance looks as they would like me to look. Short hair, most of the people believe is a smart and trendy look, but it depends on different type of faces. Short hair suits some and long hair others.
I believe that there are three step processes for things which are in or around us.
In the first step, we either buy an object or we just learn to live with those objects within us (long hair, six fingers, seven toes etc). In the second step, we either leave them or destroy them and, in my case, I had to destroy it. I had to get rid of my long hair in order to get a proper job and in the final step, we either pray that the new object/things which will fascinate us will appear to us or grow within us. ( I am praying that I will have long hair again but it will take some time).
I do not know why I am making these theoretical assumptions. Maybe, they are for grief for losing the lovely long hair I once had. The hair, mouth, nose, ears and lips are the main parts of human faces. Everything in our body is a part of our body, and they make up part of our personality. If we cannot love our body, how are we supposed to love ourselves and then others?
Published: The Himalayan Times
2010-04-28
Op-Ed: Topix
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Remember
Remember me,
When I am long gone into the woods,
Into the darkness of unnamed island,
Where no one humanly blooms,
Remember me without sadness
The way I touched you,
Will never, ever come back!
Remember me, when you will miss, the elegance
Of the man, the way I walked into your house,
In small village, journeying,
Just to get your glimpse, and smell your hair
Or, to share a kiss for a moment
That never lasted so long.
Remember me, when you will be all left alone
And there will be no man near your arms,
Remember me when someone else will
Try to make you laugh, the way I did,
May bring you, such delight, o my life!
I know you will say that:
“You will not remember me”
But, I know, My Rosemary darling,
That love is in, no man’s land.
So, when I will be long gone in that much unknown land,
With no one left behind to wipe your tears
Or, make you smile
And kiss you in your deep blue eyes
Please, remember me
Without grief, in you’re humanly life
As time flows with the sky
Remember me, as I will always remember you
In every moments,
Which I will spend without you!
© 2010 by Santosh Kalwar
When I am long gone into the woods,
Into the darkness of unnamed island,
Where no one humanly blooms,
Remember me without sadness
The way I touched you,
Will never, ever come back!
Remember me, when you will miss, the elegance
Of the man, the way I walked into your house,
In small village, journeying,
Just to get your glimpse, and smell your hair
Or, to share a kiss for a moment
That never lasted so long.
Remember me, when you will be all left alone
And there will be no man near your arms,
Remember me when someone else will
Try to make you laugh, the way I did,
May bring you, such delight, o my life!
I know you will say that:
“You will not remember me”
But, I know, My Rosemary darling,
That love is in, no man’s land.
So, when I will be long gone in that much unknown land,
With no one left behind to wipe your tears
Or, make you smile
And kiss you in your deep blue eyes
Please, remember me
Without grief, in you’re humanly life
As time flows with the sky
Remember me, as I will always remember you
In every moments,
Which I will spend without you!
© 2010 by Santosh Kalwar
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Press releases: You Can
Lappeenranta, Finland, April 24, 2010 --(PR.com)-- Many of the times, we feel depressed and sad. It is very obvious that, we as the humans are in great need of inspirations during different phases of our lives. It is also known that there are thousands of self-help and inspirational books but hardly these books give suitable insights or ‘an inch of inspiration’. Therefore, unlike these self-help books, poems can be the best source of inspiration. What if you can read golden words of inspiration for free?
In his new book with very interesting title, "You Can", a young Nepalese poet from Chitwan, Nepal promises scintillating encouragement and motivation in his book, a collection of several inspiring poems.
Santosh Kalwar is an author of nine published books entitled, "Nature God (2008), Human behavior on the Internet (2009), A Very First Book of Poems (2009), ...109 Quotes, 07 Poems, and a song of despair (2009)..., 20 Love Poems and Economy Crisis (2009), 25 Sexy Poems (2009), Yet another book of Poems (2009), Happening: Poems (2010) and I Am Dead Man Alive (2010).
“You Can” is a collection of very inspiring poems by the young and talented poet, first published in 2010 by Lulu.com. The book is available to download for free. The book is collection of several intriguing and motivating poems written to inspire all ages. The poems are highly motivational that will stimulate the readers to achieve significant goals in life.
These poems can inspire anyone including business people, professionals and service man or women. Many of the times people need to inspire themselves. Therefore, these poems promise to provide encouragement for all those sad souls living on the planet.
Santosh Kalwar is a PhD candidate in Lappeenranta University of Technology, Lappeenranta, Finland. He loves reading and writing poetry. To arrange a book signing or interview, contact the writer. For further information about the writer, please visit author website at kalwar.com.np
ISBN 978-1-4457-5770-4
To place orders for the book, contact: Lulu.com
URL: lulu.com/product/paperback/you-can/10661154
In his new book with very interesting title, "You Can", a young Nepalese poet from Chitwan, Nepal promises scintillating encouragement and motivation in his book, a collection of several inspiring poems.
Santosh Kalwar is an author of nine published books entitled, "Nature God (2008), Human behavior on the Internet (2009), A Very First Book of Poems (2009), ...109 Quotes, 07 Poems, and a song of despair (2009)..., 20 Love Poems and Economy Crisis (2009), 25 Sexy Poems (2009), Yet another book of Poems (2009), Happening: Poems (2010) and I Am Dead Man Alive (2010).
“You Can” is a collection of very inspiring poems by the young and talented poet, first published in 2010 by Lulu.com. The book is available to download for free. The book is collection of several intriguing and motivating poems written to inspire all ages. The poems are highly motivational that will stimulate the readers to achieve significant goals in life.
These poems can inspire anyone including business people, professionals and service man or women. Many of the times people need to inspire themselves. Therefore, these poems promise to provide encouragement for all those sad souls living on the planet.
Santosh Kalwar is a PhD candidate in Lappeenranta University of Technology, Lappeenranta, Finland. He loves reading and writing poetry. To arrange a book signing or interview, contact the writer. For further information about the writer, please visit author website at kalwar.com.np
ISBN 978-1-4457-5770-4
To place orders for the book, contact: Lulu.com
URL: lulu.com/product/paperback/you-can/10661154
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Desire and Misery
It is obvious that there are many ways to look at the same things. Writers and scholars have great imaginative powers but politicians are not so imaginative. They do what they are told to do. However, it is not desire or power alone which will make us successful and happy because it is important for each Nepali to bear the burdens of carrying our actions themselves.
It is the desire of each Nepali politicians to rule the nation and become decision makers. They should also pay heed to the public because whatever our leaders desire will affect us too.
Published: Republica
Letters to the Editor/Your Say
Source: myrepublica
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Press releases: I Am Dead Man Alive
What happens when a person is dead? Human beings are one of the most intelligent creatures in this planet but no one knows till date where they go after their death.
A young Nepalese poet from Chitwan, Nepal answers these significant questions in his new book of poems, a collection of fifty poems, full of creative insights and imagination. Kalwar is prolific writer, poet and researcher.
He is author of eight published books entitled, "Nature God (2008), Human behavior on the Internet (2009), A Very First Book of Poems (2009), ...109 Quotes, 07 Poems, and a song of despair (2009)..., 20 Love Poems and Economy Crisis (2009), 25 Sexy Poems( 2009), Yet another book of Poems (2009) and Happening: Poems (2010).
I am dead man alive is a collection of death poems by the Nepalese poet Santosh Kalwar, first published in 2010 by PublishAmerica. The book is collection of several dark poems written to visualize the past, present and the future of human life. The poem is mainly about the death. These poems reflect how one should consider living on present moment and not fear the death.
I am dead man alive represents ancient, classical, modern and contemporary human times in very poetic manner. The state of physical, spiritual, and rational sensation is aroused in this book. The book brings new light and questions simple phenomenon of human life and death.
Santosh Kalwar is a PhD candidate in Lappeenranta University of Technology, Lappeenranta, Finland. He loves reading and writing poetry. He is currently working for his first novel.
For further information about the writer, please visit at http://kalwar.com.np
ISBN 9781448940394
To place orders for the book, contact:
PublishAmerica LLLP
P.O. Box 151
Frederick, MD 21705
(301) 695-1707
URL: Purchase
To arrange a book signing or interview, contact Santosh Kalwar at santoshkalwar@gmail.com
A young Nepalese poet from Chitwan, Nepal answers these significant questions in his new book of poems, a collection of fifty poems, full of creative insights and imagination. Kalwar is prolific writer, poet and researcher.
He is author of eight published books entitled, "Nature God (2008), Human behavior on the Internet (2009), A Very First Book of Poems (2009), ...109 Quotes, 07 Poems, and a song of despair (2009)..., 20 Love Poems and Economy Crisis (2009), 25 Sexy Poems( 2009), Yet another book of Poems (2009) and Happening: Poems (2010).
I am dead man alive is a collection of death poems by the Nepalese poet Santosh Kalwar, first published in 2010 by PublishAmerica. The book is collection of several dark poems written to visualize the past, present and the future of human life. The poem is mainly about the death. These poems reflect how one should consider living on present moment and not fear the death.
I am dead man alive represents ancient, classical, modern and contemporary human times in very poetic manner. The state of physical, spiritual, and rational sensation is aroused in this book. The book brings new light and questions simple phenomenon of human life and death.
Santosh Kalwar is a PhD candidate in Lappeenranta University of Technology, Lappeenranta, Finland. He loves reading and writing poetry. He is currently working for his first novel.
For further information about the writer, please visit at http://kalwar.com.np
ISBN 9781448940394
To place orders for the book, contact:
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To arrange a book signing or interview, contact Santosh Kalwar at santoshkalwar@gmail.com
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Problems
****************************
Problems
****************************
I was searching to resolve my problems
I found nothing but more problems
I guess, life is all about moving on
when time is short for mere cries
let us share, our problems
friends alike, mind alike
thinkers and lovers alike
someday
as, we all have to die
maybe then,
our problems will no
more be alive
****************************
Problems
****************************
I was searching to resolve my problems
I found nothing but more problems
I guess, life is all about moving on
when time is short for mere cries
let us share, our problems
friends alike, mind alike
thinkers and lovers alike
someday
as, we all have to die
maybe then,
our problems will no
more be alive
****************************
Monday, April 12, 2010
Possibly "thank you" in Portuguese !
Possibly "thank you" in Portuguese !
Recently, I traveled on my first scientific conference to Porto, Portugal. Porto is second largest city in the country after capital-Lisbon. The experience of the journey was horrific. Can you imagine falling in love with a city and the people, although it was only for just four days?
I met many pretty ladies in the conference in Porto and also many lonesome men like me-maybe to go wild in the romantic rainy climate of the Porto.
One of the pretty ladies said, “Do you know my husband ….” After that I didn’t wanted to store any piece information from a beautiful lady.
I wonder why these good looking Portuguese girls are “missing” their husband or boy friend and I have to handle the situation or listen to their sad stories. Poor Me! However, maybe I am born to solve the problem on love, truth and relationships.
I could not stand giving my piece of so called “wise advice” on that very lady and ended up saying, “You know, those who are close to heart are never missed.” Finally, she laughed and said, “Obrigado”, Thanks God, what does that word means?
After listening too many of the boring lectures and presentations by so called, “scientists”, I got frustrated and decided to visit some of the places such as harbor, port wine sellers and smell the cool breeze coming from Antarctic Ocean near the fort beach.
The smell was so beautiful and romantic. I talked with Portuguese couples. They hardly were very good at speaking English and I myself do not claim to be very good as well. Nevertheless with my curiosity, I asked with them, “How long you guys have been together?” the girl replied, “it has been seven years” Smilingly, I cherished their togetherness and felt “proud” of such Portuguese couple.
Many of the couples in recent days have trouble being together. I decided to taste some of the famous port wine and think on the reasons behind “not being together”. Under the smell of cool breeze near the harbor, with my eyes closed and beautiful romantic singers singing “tunes of Porto”, I invented something great that Einstein would have been proud of – The trouble is not with the couples but with the ever changing situation of globalized world and the economy.
Recession has hit in each and every corners of the globe. With less money, how can someone will have so called, “honey?”
My conversation with the Portuguese couple didn’t last long. I shared the same idea, wished them “good luck” for their future in their relationship and shared smiled in Portuguese way. They looked very happy with my piece of wisdom that I shared with them, In return they said, “Obrigado” to me.
Again, I have to come back to the conference arena. I started to wonder why these boring conferences are held. Then I realized maybe it is to “network and mingle” with like minded peoples. However, there were hardly anyone who was talking “romance and love” in the scientific conference and my journey was completely different that ordinary scientists or maybe I should have gone to 'romantic scientific conferences' rather than that I went.
Apparently, I saw another single mom, who was from Porto and she started to share her feelings of relationships with me. She said, “Do you know that love does not last forever, I was married with a professor for twenty five years but our relationship didn’t work out.” I wonder why?
I was so intelligent with my words that I disguised my appearance –as if I was feeling sad and said to her, “I am so sorry for your unsuccessful romantic life, maybe whatever we do is a based on our karma” The Hindu philosophical wisdom didn’t impressed her so I decided to give the Christian faith unto her. “Do not worry, you will find someone better, someday” Now, she seemed more satisfied with the response. More than ninety percent of population is Roman Catholic, I guess!
After couple of hours of wise talk, she finally got satisfied with the wisdom we shared.
The final day was approaching and the conference was coming to an end. There were more problems that could have been seen, heard or shared but ‘time is money’. Insofar, I wanted to hear more and help these people more but every journey has an end.
Every time I talked with these couples and shared my piece of wisdom with them, they said, “obrigado”. My lack of Portuguese was very unsatisfactory, I could not understand the meaning behind the word and I assumed that it won’t mean anything bad about me or about my color of skin or about my piece of wisdom.
I didn’t even had computer to “Google translate” the word. Therefore, my journey came to an end when I safely landed to Helsinki but the cold breeze smelled so frustrating and melancholy that I started to feel the same.
In conclusion, the journey of love of any place, or any experience with new people, country or conference is always like “the beginning of an end or maybe end of the beginning” By the way, what do you think, “Obrigado” would have meant? Possibly, “thank you” in Portuguese!
Recently, I traveled on my first scientific conference to Porto, Portugal. Porto is second largest city in the country after capital-Lisbon. The experience of the journey was horrific. Can you imagine falling in love with a city and the people, although it was only for just four days?
I met many pretty ladies in the conference in Porto and also many lonesome men like me-maybe to go wild in the romantic rainy climate of the Porto.
One of the pretty ladies said, “Do you know my husband ….” After that I didn’t wanted to store any piece information from a beautiful lady.
I wonder why these good looking Portuguese girls are “missing” their husband or boy friend and I have to handle the situation or listen to their sad stories. Poor Me! However, maybe I am born to solve the problem on love, truth and relationships.
I could not stand giving my piece of so called “wise advice” on that very lady and ended up saying, “You know, those who are close to heart are never missed.” Finally, she laughed and said, “Obrigado”, Thanks God, what does that word means?
After listening too many of the boring lectures and presentations by so called, “scientists”, I got frustrated and decided to visit some of the places such as harbor, port wine sellers and smell the cool breeze coming from Antarctic Ocean near the fort beach.
The smell was so beautiful and romantic. I talked with Portuguese couples. They hardly were very good at speaking English and I myself do not claim to be very good as well. Nevertheless with my curiosity, I asked with them, “How long you guys have been together?” the girl replied, “it has been seven years” Smilingly, I cherished their togetherness and felt “proud” of such Portuguese couple.
Many of the couples in recent days have trouble being together. I decided to taste some of the famous port wine and think on the reasons behind “not being together”. Under the smell of cool breeze near the harbor, with my eyes closed and beautiful romantic singers singing “tunes of Porto”, I invented something great that Einstein would have been proud of – The trouble is not with the couples but with the ever changing situation of globalized world and the economy.
Recession has hit in each and every corners of the globe. With less money, how can someone will have so called, “honey?”
My conversation with the Portuguese couple didn’t last long. I shared the same idea, wished them “good luck” for their future in their relationship and shared smiled in Portuguese way. They looked very happy with my piece of wisdom that I shared with them, In return they said, “Obrigado” to me.
Again, I have to come back to the conference arena. I started to wonder why these boring conferences are held. Then I realized maybe it is to “network and mingle” with like minded peoples. However, there were hardly anyone who was talking “romance and love” in the scientific conference and my journey was completely different that ordinary scientists or maybe I should have gone to 'romantic scientific conferences' rather than that I went.
Apparently, I saw another single mom, who was from Porto and she started to share her feelings of relationships with me. She said, “Do you know that love does not last forever, I was married with a professor for twenty five years but our relationship didn’t work out.” I wonder why?
I was so intelligent with my words that I disguised my appearance –as if I was feeling sad and said to her, “I am so sorry for your unsuccessful romantic life, maybe whatever we do is a based on our karma” The Hindu philosophical wisdom didn’t impressed her so I decided to give the Christian faith unto her. “Do not worry, you will find someone better, someday” Now, she seemed more satisfied with the response. More than ninety percent of population is Roman Catholic, I guess!
After couple of hours of wise talk, she finally got satisfied with the wisdom we shared.
The final day was approaching and the conference was coming to an end. There were more problems that could have been seen, heard or shared but ‘time is money’. Insofar, I wanted to hear more and help these people more but every journey has an end.
Every time I talked with these couples and shared my piece of wisdom with them, they said, “obrigado”. My lack of Portuguese was very unsatisfactory, I could not understand the meaning behind the word and I assumed that it won’t mean anything bad about me or about my color of skin or about my piece of wisdom.
I didn’t even had computer to “Google translate” the word. Therefore, my journey came to an end when I safely landed to Helsinki but the cold breeze smelled so frustrating and melancholy that I started to feel the same.
In conclusion, the journey of love of any place, or any experience with new people, country or conference is always like “the beginning of an end or maybe end of the beginning” By the way, what do you think, “Obrigado” would have meant? Possibly, “thank you” in Portuguese!
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Who Knows?
Who knows? What love is?
Who knows? What pain is?
Who knows? How long I will live
Who know? About the life
Everyone is born alone
Have to die alone
Do you know what aloneness is?
Loneliness is not aloneness
I can be alone but never lonely
There is always someone
With whom you share:
Smile, sorrow, pain, love, life
There is no one
Who goes along with you? When you die
In a very short visit,
Whilst this life,
I found you:
Smile
Who knows?
Maybe you disguised me
So that I will too
Smile
Who knows?
Why are we fighting? When no one comes out alive
Who knows? What pain is?
Who knows? How long I will live
Who know? About the life
Everyone is born alone
Have to die alone
Do you know what aloneness is?
Loneliness is not aloneness
I can be alone but never lonely
There is always someone
With whom you share:
Smile, sorrow, pain, love, life
There is no one
Who goes along with you? When you die
In a very short visit,
Whilst this life,
I found you:
Smile
Who knows?
Maybe you disguised me
So that I will too
Smile
Who knows?
Why are we fighting? When no one comes out alive
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Broken promises
It is true that many Nepali women are betrayed by middlemen who promise them rosy jobs and lofty dreams in foreign land (“Hard labour,” April 5, Page 6). No human should mislead another by promising them something they know to be untrue.
The number of women mentioned in your editorial is scary. However, it is apparent that this is not only a problem for women in Gulf countries or Lebanon, but also in the rest of the world. Therefore, the violence against women should be taken into consideration and those found guilty brought to justice, whether at home or abroad. What is the foreign ministry doing about women migrants? I recommend all Nepali brothers and sisters to do their homework properly before trusting middlemen to secure them a job in a foreign land.
Santosh Kalwar
Chitwan
Published: The Kathmandu Post
Letter to the Editor
Source: eKantipur
The number of women mentioned in your editorial is scary. However, it is apparent that this is not only a problem for women in Gulf countries or Lebanon, but also in the rest of the world. Therefore, the violence against women should be taken into consideration and those found guilty brought to justice, whether at home or abroad. What is the foreign ministry doing about women migrants? I recommend all Nepali brothers and sisters to do their homework properly before trusting middlemen to secure them a job in a foreign land.
Santosh Kalwar
Chitwan
Published: The Kathmandu Post
Letter to the Editor
Source: eKantipur
Sunday, April 4, 2010
April fool
The origin of April fool day is unknown, as the origin of the universe seems unknown. There are theories but theories are mostly based on ideas of people. Mainly our eastern culture is influenced by western culture for the celebration of April fool day. April fool day is dedicated to play pranks and make joke among friends and families.
When I logged into my Facebook and twitter pages, I was getting lots of “amazing updates”. For example, Osama bin laden is dead; Nepal became only Hindu State in the entire world; The Beatles are alive; climate change is unreal; earthquake may hit all parts of globe; Jesus Christ son is alive and so on and so forth.
After hearing such amazing updates, I started to think seriously. What is going on? My quest for mysterious search of “holy grail” of an unanswered question was at dismay.
So, I went back again to my facebook page for a heart comforting answers. After few seconds, a friend in my Facebook commented, “You look like Johnny Depp”. Since, I have a tendency to take everything seriously. I wonder if I do or am I being fool to be called, ‘the great, Johnny Depp’.
This is very personal statement and it asks many questions not only on personal level but also about human faces or “look-alikes”.
We are around six billion human living on this planet and it may be obvious that one can look alike another. But do I and Johnny look-like one another? Does it make any difference if I look like Johnny or if Johnny looks like me? I think it will.
It won’t make any difference if I look alike Johnny since he is a great Hollywood actor and everybody him from his famous pirate movies. However, if he looks like me then it might create problem for him because I am an unknown poet, writer and researcher. I wonder if someone like him would like to be like me.
I might be visually similar to Depp but do I really want to call as his “look-alike”. It is quite nice to hear that you look like someone who is famous and great but how about one’s self esteem and value? I get easily angry when somebody compares one individual to another. We all are unique in one ways or another, Aren’t we?
As the Easter is coming, I was walking lonely, slowly and peacefully near my residential Church, I met another friend of mine and he said, “Hey, Buddy, how you doing man, you look so cool in your black jacket, you look like Johnny depp”. Holy Cow! Which day is today, I asked.
He said, “Today is first of April, Man! I am sorry, I was just kidding…making you fool”.
Finally, I realized both of these friends were making fool of me. I was getting angry for nothing. It’s an April fool day!
When I logged into my Facebook and twitter pages, I was getting lots of “amazing updates”. For example, Osama bin laden is dead; Nepal became only Hindu State in the entire world; The Beatles are alive; climate change is unreal; earthquake may hit all parts of globe; Jesus Christ son is alive and so on and so forth.
After hearing such amazing updates, I started to think seriously. What is going on? My quest for mysterious search of “holy grail” of an unanswered question was at dismay.
So, I went back again to my facebook page for a heart comforting answers. After few seconds, a friend in my Facebook commented, “You look like Johnny Depp”. Since, I have a tendency to take everything seriously. I wonder if I do or am I being fool to be called, ‘the great, Johnny Depp’.
This is very personal statement and it asks many questions not only on personal level but also about human faces or “look-alikes”.
We are around six billion human living on this planet and it may be obvious that one can look alike another. But do I and Johnny look-like one another? Does it make any difference if I look like Johnny or if Johnny looks like me? I think it will.
It won’t make any difference if I look alike Johnny since he is a great Hollywood actor and everybody him from his famous pirate movies. However, if he looks like me then it might create problem for him because I am an unknown poet, writer and researcher. I wonder if someone like him would like to be like me.
I might be visually similar to Depp but do I really want to call as his “look-alike”. It is quite nice to hear that you look like someone who is famous and great but how about one’s self esteem and value? I get easily angry when somebody compares one individual to another. We all are unique in one ways or another, Aren’t we?
As the Easter is coming, I was walking lonely, slowly and peacefully near my residential Church, I met another friend of mine and he said, “Hey, Buddy, how you doing man, you look so cool in your black jacket, you look like Johnny depp”. Holy Cow! Which day is today, I asked.
He said, “Today is first of April, Man! I am sorry, I was just kidding…making you fool”.
Finally, I realized both of these friends were making fool of me. I was getting angry for nothing. It’s an April fool day!
Saturday, April 3, 2010
The Lunatic by Laxmi Prasad Devkota
The Lunatic
Surely, my friend, insane am I
Such is my plight.
I visualize sound.
I hear the visible.
And fragrance I taste.
And the ethereal is palpable to me.
Those things I touch--
Whose existence the world denies,
Of whose shape the world is unaware.
I see a flower in the stone--
when wavelet-softened pebbles on the water's edge,
In the moonlight,
While the enchantress of heaven is smiling unto me.
They exfoliating, mollifying,
Glistening and palpitating,
Rise before my eyes like tongueless things insane,
Like flowers,
A variety of moonbirds,
I commune with them as they do with me,
In such a language, friend,
As is never written, nor ever printed, nor ever spoken,
Unintelligible, ineffable all.
Their language laps the moonlit Ganges shore,
Ripple by ripple,
Surely, my friend, am I insane,
Such is my plight.
Clever and eloquent you are!
Your formulas are ever running correct.
But in my calculations one minus one is always one.
You work with your senses five,
With the sixth I operate.
Brains you have, my friend,
But the heart is mine.
To you a rose is but a rose,
It embodies Helen and Padmini for me.
You are strong prose,
But I am liquid poetry.
You freeze, I melt,
You decant when I go muddy.
When I am muddled, you are clear.
And just the other way about.
You have a world of solids,
Mine is one of vapour
Yours is thick and mine is thin.
You take a stone for hard reality,
I seek to catch a dream,
Just as you try to grab that cold sweet, minted coin's round reality.
Mine is a badge of thorns,
But yours is one of gold and adamant.
You call the mountains mute,
But orators do I call them.
Surely, my friend, a vein is loose in my brain.
I am insane,
Such is my plight.
In the frigid winter month,
I basked in the first white heat of the astral light.
They called me crazy.
Back from the burning-ghat,
Blank-eyed I sat for seven days,
They cast their eyes on me and called me one possessed.
Shocked by the first streak of frost on a fair lady’s tresses,
For a length of three days my sockets filled and rolled.
For the Buddha, the enlightened one, touched me in the depths,
And they called me one distraught.
When I danced to the bursting notes of the harbinger of the spring,
They called me one gone crazy.
One moonless night, all dead and still,
Annihilation choked my soul,
And up I jumped upon my feet.
And the fools of the world put me in the stocks.
I sang with the tempest one day,
And the wise-acres of the world dispatched me down to Ranchi.
And once when at full stretch I lay upon my bed,
As one but dead,
A friend of mine pinched me so sharp.
And said, "Oh mad man,
Is thy flesh now dead?"
Year by year such things did occur,
And still, my friend, I am insane,
Such is my plight.
I have called the Nawab’s wine all blood.
And the courtesans all corpses.
And the king a pauper.
I have denounced Alexander the Great.
And I have deprecated the so-called high-souled ones.
And the insignificant individual I have raised,
Up an ascending arch of praises,
Into the seventh heaven.
Your highly learned men are my big fools.
Your heaven is my hell.
Your gold, my iron.
Friend, your piety, my sin.
Where you feel yourself clever,
There, there,
I find you a stupid innocent.
Your progression is regression to me.
Such is the upsetting of values, friend,
Your universe to me is but a hair.
Surely, my friend,
I am absolutely moon-struck,
Moon-struck indeed,
Such is my plight.
I find the blind the people’s pioneers.
The cave-penancer do I find a runaway, the deserter of humanity.
And those who climb the platform of lies do I declare to be but dancers dark.
And I declare the defeated ones the splendid laurelled victors.
Advancement is retreat.
May be I am a squint
Or that I am a crack, friend,
Just but a crack.
Look at the strumpet-tongues adancing of shameless leadership!
At the breaking of the backbones of the people’s rights!
When the sparrow-headed bold prints of black lies on the papers,
Challenge the hero in me called Reason,
With conspiracy false,
Then redden hot my cheeks, my friend,
And their colour is up.
when the unsophisticated folk quaff off black poison with their ears
Taking it for ambrosia,
And that before my eyes, my friend,
Then every hair rises on end,
Like the serpent-tresses of the Gorgons,
Every one so irritated!
When I see the tiger pouncing upon the innocent deer,
Or the big fish after the smaller ones,
Then even into my corroded bones, my friend,
The terrible strength of the soul of Dadhichi--the sage,
Enters and seeks utterance.
Like a clouded day crashing down to earth in the thunderbolt,
When man regards a man as no man,
Then gnash my teeth and grind my jaws, set with the two and thirty teeth,
Like Bhimsen's teeth, the terror-striking hero's,
And then,
Rolling round my fury-reddened eyeballs,
With an inscrutable sweep,
I look at this inhuman human world
Like a tongue of fire.
The machine parts of my frame jump out of their places,
Disordered and disturbed!
My breath swells into a storm,
Distorted is my face,
My brain is in a blaze,
Like a wild conflagration.
I am infuriated like a forest fire,
Frenzied, my friend,
As one who would devour the world immense,
Surely, my friend,
I am the moonbird of the beautiful,
The iconoclast of ugliness!
The tenderly cruel!
The bird that steals the celestial fire!
The child of the tempest!
I am the wild eruption of a volcano insane!
Terror personified!
Surely, my friend,
I am a whirl-brain, whirl-brain,
And such is my plight!
Surely, my friend, insane am I
Such is my plight.
I visualize sound.
I hear the visible.
And fragrance I taste.
And the ethereal is palpable to me.
Those things I touch--
Whose existence the world denies,
Of whose shape the world is unaware.
I see a flower in the stone--
when wavelet-softened pebbles on the water's edge,
In the moonlight,
While the enchantress of heaven is smiling unto me.
They exfoliating, mollifying,
Glistening and palpitating,
Rise before my eyes like tongueless things insane,
Like flowers,
A variety of moonbirds,
I commune with them as they do with me,
In such a language, friend,
As is never written, nor ever printed, nor ever spoken,
Unintelligible, ineffable all.
Their language laps the moonlit Ganges shore,
Ripple by ripple,
Surely, my friend, am I insane,
Such is my plight.
Clever and eloquent you are!
Your formulas are ever running correct.
But in my calculations one minus one is always one.
You work with your senses five,
With the sixth I operate.
Brains you have, my friend,
But the heart is mine.
To you a rose is but a rose,
It embodies Helen and Padmini for me.
You are strong prose,
But I am liquid poetry.
You freeze, I melt,
You decant when I go muddy.
When I am muddled, you are clear.
And just the other way about.
You have a world of solids,
Mine is one of vapour
Yours is thick and mine is thin.
You take a stone for hard reality,
I seek to catch a dream,
Just as you try to grab that cold sweet, minted coin's round reality.
Mine is a badge of thorns,
But yours is one of gold and adamant.
You call the mountains mute,
But orators do I call them.
Surely, my friend, a vein is loose in my brain.
I am insane,
Such is my plight.
In the frigid winter month,
I basked in the first white heat of the astral light.
They called me crazy.
Back from the burning-ghat,
Blank-eyed I sat for seven days,
They cast their eyes on me and called me one possessed.
Shocked by the first streak of frost on a fair lady’s tresses,
For a length of three days my sockets filled and rolled.
For the Buddha, the enlightened one, touched me in the depths,
And they called me one distraught.
When I danced to the bursting notes of the harbinger of the spring,
They called me one gone crazy.
One moonless night, all dead and still,
Annihilation choked my soul,
And up I jumped upon my feet.
And the fools of the world put me in the stocks.
I sang with the tempest one day,
And the wise-acres of the world dispatched me down to Ranchi.
And once when at full stretch I lay upon my bed,
As one but dead,
A friend of mine pinched me so sharp.
And said, "Oh mad man,
Is thy flesh now dead?"
Year by year such things did occur,
And still, my friend, I am insane,
Such is my plight.
I have called the Nawab’s wine all blood.
And the courtesans all corpses.
And the king a pauper.
I have denounced Alexander the Great.
And I have deprecated the so-called high-souled ones.
And the insignificant individual I have raised,
Up an ascending arch of praises,
Into the seventh heaven.
Your highly learned men are my big fools.
Your heaven is my hell.
Your gold, my iron.
Friend, your piety, my sin.
Where you feel yourself clever,
There, there,
I find you a stupid innocent.
Your progression is regression to me.
Such is the upsetting of values, friend,
Your universe to me is but a hair.
Surely, my friend,
I am absolutely moon-struck,
Moon-struck indeed,
Such is my plight.
I find the blind the people’s pioneers.
The cave-penancer do I find a runaway, the deserter of humanity.
And those who climb the platform of lies do I declare to be but dancers dark.
And I declare the defeated ones the splendid laurelled victors.
Advancement is retreat.
May be I am a squint
Or that I am a crack, friend,
Just but a crack.
Look at the strumpet-tongues adancing of shameless leadership!
At the breaking of the backbones of the people’s rights!
When the sparrow-headed bold prints of black lies on the papers,
Challenge the hero in me called Reason,
With conspiracy false,
Then redden hot my cheeks, my friend,
And their colour is up.
when the unsophisticated folk quaff off black poison with their ears
Taking it for ambrosia,
And that before my eyes, my friend,
Then every hair rises on end,
Like the serpent-tresses of the Gorgons,
Every one so irritated!
When I see the tiger pouncing upon the innocent deer,
Or the big fish after the smaller ones,
Then even into my corroded bones, my friend,
The terrible strength of the soul of Dadhichi--the sage,
Enters and seeks utterance.
Like a clouded day crashing down to earth in the thunderbolt,
When man regards a man as no man,
Then gnash my teeth and grind my jaws, set with the two and thirty teeth,
Like Bhimsen's teeth, the terror-striking hero's,
And then,
Rolling round my fury-reddened eyeballs,
With an inscrutable sweep,
I look at this inhuman human world
Like a tongue of fire.
The machine parts of my frame jump out of their places,
Disordered and disturbed!
My breath swells into a storm,
Distorted is my face,
My brain is in a blaze,
Like a wild conflagration.
I am infuriated like a forest fire,
Frenzied, my friend,
As one who would devour the world immense,
Surely, my friend,
I am the moonbird of the beautiful,
The iconoclast of ugliness!
The tenderly cruel!
The bird that steals the celestial fire!
The child of the tempest!
I am the wild eruption of a volcano insane!
Terror personified!
Surely, my friend,
I am a whirl-brain, whirl-brain,
And such is my plight!
Friday, April 2, 2010
Ecclesiastes 1
Ecclesiastes 1 (New International Version)
Ecclesiastes 1
Everything Is Meaningless
1 The words of the Teacher, [a] son of David, king in Jerusalem:
2 "Meaningless! Meaningless!"
says the Teacher.
"Utterly meaningless!
Everything is meaningless."
3 What does man gain from all his labor
at which he toils under the sun?
4 Generations come and generations go,
but the earth remains forever.
5 The sun rises and the sun sets,
and hurries back to where it rises.
6 The wind blows to the south
and turns to the north;
round and round it goes,
ever returning on its course.
7 All streams flow into the sea,
yet the sea is never full.
To the place the streams come from,
there they return again.
8 All things are wearisome,
more than one can say.
The eye never has enough of seeing,
nor the ear its fill of hearing.
9 What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.
10 Is there anything of which one can say,
"Look! This is something new"?
It was here already, long ago;
it was here before our time.
11 There is no remembrance of men of old,
and even those who are yet to come
will not be remembered
by those who follow.
Wisdom Is Meaningless
12 I, the Teacher, was king over Israel in Jerusalem. 13 I devoted myself to study and to explore by wisdom all that is done under heaven. What a heavy burden God has laid on men! 14 I have seen all the things that are done under the sun; all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind.
15 What is twisted cannot be straightened;
what is lacking cannot be counted.
16 I thought to myself, "Look, I have grown and increased in wisdom more than anyone who has ruled over Jerusalem before me; I have experienced much of wisdom and knowledge." 17 Then I applied myself to the understanding of wisdom, and also of madness and folly, but I learned that this, too, is a chasing after the wind.
18 For with much wisdom comes much sorrow;
the more knowledge, the more grief.
Footnotes:
Ecclesiastes 1:1 Or leader of the assembly ; also in verses 2 and 12
Ecclesiastes 1
Everything Is Meaningless
1 The words of the Teacher, [a] son of David, king in Jerusalem:
2 "Meaningless! Meaningless!"
says the Teacher.
"Utterly meaningless!
Everything is meaningless."
3 What does man gain from all his labor
at which he toils under the sun?
4 Generations come and generations go,
but the earth remains forever.
5 The sun rises and the sun sets,
and hurries back to where it rises.
6 The wind blows to the south
and turns to the north;
round and round it goes,
ever returning on its course.
7 All streams flow into the sea,
yet the sea is never full.
To the place the streams come from,
there they return again.
8 All things are wearisome,
more than one can say.
The eye never has enough of seeing,
nor the ear its fill of hearing.
9 What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.
10 Is there anything of which one can say,
"Look! This is something new"?
It was here already, long ago;
it was here before our time.
11 There is no remembrance of men of old,
and even those who are yet to come
will not be remembered
by those who follow.
Wisdom Is Meaningless
12 I, the Teacher, was king over Israel in Jerusalem. 13 I devoted myself to study and to explore by wisdom all that is done under heaven. What a heavy burden God has laid on men! 14 I have seen all the things that are done under the sun; all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind.
15 What is twisted cannot be straightened;
what is lacking cannot be counted.
16 I thought to myself, "Look, I have grown and increased in wisdom more than anyone who has ruled over Jerusalem before me; I have experienced much of wisdom and knowledge." 17 Then I applied myself to the understanding of wisdom, and also of madness and folly, but I learned that this, too, is a chasing after the wind.
18 For with much wisdom comes much sorrow;
the more knowledge, the more grief.
Footnotes:
Ecclesiastes 1:1 Or leader of the assembly ; also in verses 2 and 12
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
The Art of Loving
I was reading a book called, “The Art of Loving” by Eric Fromm written during 1956. The book consists of wide range of ideas, not about “how to love” but “what love is”. It makes us think that love can be an art.
It is apparent that definitions of love vary based on people attitudes, experiences and believes. In addition, what love is, to me, may not be the same, for another person. We all are philosophers, at some point in life. In particular, when we talk on “world perspectives” for example, love, life, faith, religion and politics. Therefore, to generalize about love and on love, is to make an understatement about world perspectives.
In the final chapters of the book, Fromm articulates and answers if love is an art or not. He suggests that love is an art just like any other art, music, poetry, painting, carpentry and engineering. In every art, there are key elements. Three key elements which are necessary ingredients for love: Discipline, Concentration and Patience.
Generally, Sex plays a vital role in love. Fromm argues on Freud theory of “sexual pleasure” on love and rather suggests, “Sexual happiness” which is based on penetrating ‘hearts and minds’ of partner and ‘touching’ him/her in much, deeper sense. Maybe he meant ‘some kind of karmic connection’ is necessary to be happy and satisfied in love.
Many a great philosophers, poets and scientist have an opinion on love. My view is no different from Fromm’s perspective on love. He has clearly shown in his book that love is an art. There are several objects of love such as brotherly love, motherly love, erotic love, self –love, and love of God. Each of these love are different in one ways or another and these grow in time and space, as we do.
After reading a book, I have acquired a great deal of knowledge on love. However, love without practice and experience is not love. I have experienced many objects of love but still unsatisfied with the hunger for love. In a world where, we are consumers of food, drinks, a big bottle, a big breast; a big house, awesome car and great job. In more poetic sense, it seems that Love is not something for consumption.
Love is omnipresent and our appetite will always be unfulfilled for love. It is better for us because, without love, earth will not rotate, seasons will not change, birds will not sing and life will not exit.
As Eckhart has said, “If you love yourself, you love everybody else as you do yourself. As long as you love another person less that you love yourself, you will not really succeed in loving yourself, but if you love all alike, including yourself, you will love them as one person & that person is both God and man. Thus he is great & righteous person who, loving himself, loves all others equally.” I love you, all!
It is apparent that definitions of love vary based on people attitudes, experiences and believes. In addition, what love is, to me, may not be the same, for another person. We all are philosophers, at some point in life. In particular, when we talk on “world perspectives” for example, love, life, faith, religion and politics. Therefore, to generalize about love and on love, is to make an understatement about world perspectives.
In the final chapters of the book, Fromm articulates and answers if love is an art or not. He suggests that love is an art just like any other art, music, poetry, painting, carpentry and engineering. In every art, there are key elements. Three key elements which are necessary ingredients for love: Discipline, Concentration and Patience.
Generally, Sex plays a vital role in love. Fromm argues on Freud theory of “sexual pleasure” on love and rather suggests, “Sexual happiness” which is based on penetrating ‘hearts and minds’ of partner and ‘touching’ him/her in much, deeper sense. Maybe he meant ‘some kind of karmic connection’ is necessary to be happy and satisfied in love.
Many a great philosophers, poets and scientist have an opinion on love. My view is no different from Fromm’s perspective on love. He has clearly shown in his book that love is an art. There are several objects of love such as brotherly love, motherly love, erotic love, self –love, and love of God. Each of these love are different in one ways or another and these grow in time and space, as we do.
After reading a book, I have acquired a great deal of knowledge on love. However, love without practice and experience is not love. I have experienced many objects of love but still unsatisfied with the hunger for love. In a world where, we are consumers of food, drinks, a big bottle, a big breast; a big house, awesome car and great job. In more poetic sense, it seems that Love is not something for consumption.
Love is omnipresent and our appetite will always be unfulfilled for love. It is better for us because, without love, earth will not rotate, seasons will not change, birds will not sing and life will not exit.
As Eckhart has said, “If you love yourself, you love everybody else as you do yourself. As long as you love another person less that you love yourself, you will not really succeed in loving yourself, but if you love all alike, including yourself, you will love them as one person & that person is both God and man. Thus he is great & righteous person who, loving himself, loves all others equally.” I love you, all!
Monday, March 22, 2010
Hard Truth
Death of former Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala, popularly known as Girijababu, has shocked the nation. Death is a bitter reality that no power, religion, scientific endeavour or pill can prevent. It is a harsh and fundamental truth that each one of us must face it someday.
I remember a piece of wisdom my grandfather passed on to me before he died. He told me to recite this mantra daily: “I am going to die someday. But I am not sad about it today. If I am sad today of dying someday, then how am I supposed to live and do something today?”
I don’t know if this mantra really works. I suppose only a few of my learned readers may accept this philosophical convention. But it really does inspire and encourage me to live life to the fullest without being worried about death.
One invariable fact about life is that it will come to an end. But, it is not the destination that counts, rather the process by which one reaches the destination. If one fully lives their life on a day-to-day basis, one is bound to live a happier, healthier life. Despite this knowledge, many fear death. Imagine a scenario where somebody is standing in front of you, pointing a revolver towards your face. In such a scenario, one is bound to fear death. But fearing death for no present reason is not wise.
Before going any further on death, one has to understand the magnitude of fear, including the pain and suffering that the fear of death can cause. After reading several religious scriptures, I have come to the conclusion that there are a lot of interesting ideas about death. For example, in the Bible, the ‘coming back’ of Jesus Christ is mentioned. Similarly, some Muslim scholars believe in the ‘coming back’ of the Prophet Mohammad. Hindus also believe in the concept of chaurasi janma. My childish mind doubts this though, without any proper reason to give. I believe that, take it or leave it, everyone has to die one day, and that is the only truth of this so-called, ‘human life’.
Life is not like a game of cricket where in one match if you are clean bold, you can come up fresh in the very next match. To me, life is about living in the present moment and feeling happy and thankful for being alive. It is about cherishing the memories of the past, creating new ideas and innovations in the present, learning from peers, and loving everything that has been placed front of us.
Sadly, our Girijababu is no longer with us, but his legacy and contributions to Nepali politics and the country will always be remembered forever.
Published: The Kathmandu Post
Post Platform
Source: eKantipur
I remember a piece of wisdom my grandfather passed on to me before he died. He told me to recite this mantra daily: “I am going to die someday. But I am not sad about it today. If I am sad today of dying someday, then how am I supposed to live and do something today?”
I don’t know if this mantra really works. I suppose only a few of my learned readers may accept this philosophical convention. But it really does inspire and encourage me to live life to the fullest without being worried about death.
One invariable fact about life is that it will come to an end. But, it is not the destination that counts, rather the process by which one reaches the destination. If one fully lives their life on a day-to-day basis, one is bound to live a happier, healthier life. Despite this knowledge, many fear death. Imagine a scenario where somebody is standing in front of you, pointing a revolver towards your face. In such a scenario, one is bound to fear death. But fearing death for no present reason is not wise.
Before going any further on death, one has to understand the magnitude of fear, including the pain and suffering that the fear of death can cause. After reading several religious scriptures, I have come to the conclusion that there are a lot of interesting ideas about death. For example, in the Bible, the ‘coming back’ of Jesus Christ is mentioned. Similarly, some Muslim scholars believe in the ‘coming back’ of the Prophet Mohammad. Hindus also believe in the concept of chaurasi janma. My childish mind doubts this though, without any proper reason to give. I believe that, take it or leave it, everyone has to die one day, and that is the only truth of this so-called, ‘human life’.
Life is not like a game of cricket where in one match if you are clean bold, you can come up fresh in the very next match. To me, life is about living in the present moment and feeling happy and thankful for being alive. It is about cherishing the memories of the past, creating new ideas and innovations in the present, learning from peers, and loving everything that has been placed front of us.
Sadly, our Girijababu is no longer with us, but his legacy and contributions to Nepali politics and the country will always be remembered forever.
Published: The Kathmandu Post
Post Platform
Source: eKantipur
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